Monday, August 31, 2009

The Moviegoer

The Moviegoer

"There is a clock that never strikes.
There is a cathedral that goes down
and a lake that goes up."
—Arthur Rimbaud, "Childhood,"

Once upon a time—I was a boy
Dead in the rosebushes—all summer
I had black eyes—and a yellow mop
Without parents—or a royal court

I was insolent—running along
Azure and verdure beaches—full of
Shipless waves—Greek, Slav, Celt
Shades in the balcony—of the Bijou

Actresses—gorgeous giantesses
Ida Lupino—up on the silver screen
Pilgrimages to—that other Land
Where princesses—were tyrannical

Sultanas—Hollywood queen bees
Strolling in the aisles—jewels glowing
In the dark—red velvet curtains in
The little theaters—like the Granada

Without boredom—those verdigris hours
Who needed a western sky—for sunsets?
With all the moviegoers—buried upright
In the balconies—overgrown with images

The curtains going up—fabulous elegance
Reels turning—sluice gates opening
The magic beasts—eternity of hot tears
The smell of popcorn—it made me blush

But now I am—the troubled scholar
Sitting in this dark armchair—brooding
Branches and rain—beating themselves
At the windows—of my quiet library

Even with Blue Ray—giant Flatscreens
I am just a pedestrian—dwarfed now in
Melancholy silence—abandoned child
On the jetty—left behind by high seas

The Mad Genius (1935)

The Mad Genius (1935)

Peter Lorre—at his creepiest
Starring as the mad scientist
Dr. Gogol—brilliant surgeon
Who’s favorite pastime is to
Watch criminals writhing in
Death after being guillotined

Francis Drake hates him—
But her pianist husband Colin
Clive—needs surgery after an
Accident—so jealous Lorre
Grafts on the hands of a killer
Knife thrower—recently axed

Remake of earlier film by Conrad
Veidt—The Hands of Orlac (1925)
And another horror flick in a
Series of Homicidal Hands movies
Adding a little spice to the usual
Mad Love erotics—of Miss Lorre

The Mummy’s Ghost (1944)

The Mummy’s Ghost (1944)

George Zucco—loves to play
Egyptian priests—cooking the
Ancient evil tana leaves—and
Stirring up mischief in America
Thanks to the charms of kinky
Egyptian unrequited love

Tom Tyler AKA Captain Marvel—
First Kharis of the Mummy films
All wrapped up in rotten bandages
With the hots for Peggy Moran—
The Mummy’s Hand-Job (1940)
Flashback footage from Karloff

Then The Mummy’s Tomb with
Turhan Bey and Lon Chaney
Zucco by now—an old queen
In the last of his—three Mummy
Movies in a row—“Ghost,” “Hand”
And “Tomb”—sending off his

Various Kharis clones—in search
Of young stuff—to moisten and
Mildew—the dried-up bandages
Of ancient Egyptian centuries—
And to liven-up poor desiccated
Kharis’ dry old cursed cock

Saturday, August 29, 2009

The Letters of Nosferatu

The Letters of Nosferatu

All the blogosphere bogeymen
And creepy online Orloks—

Constantly at the mercy of Murnau’s
Magical syntax and seminal semantics

What language does Orlok write
To his victims—do the rats understand?

Is it telepathic—these ancient symbols?
Like dreams instantaneously decadent?

Does Renfield in the insane asylum?
The maddening ship plague-bound?

Understand these Balkan runes?
Scribbled in the letters & contract?

Between Count Orlok—ratty Renfield?
Translating into—Night of the Living Dead?

Kinski—Phantom Der Nacht

Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)

Kinski—Phantom Der Nacht

“Young man—you’re like
the villagers who cannot
place themselves in the
soul of the hunter”
—Klaus Kinski

Bruno Ganz—very goodlooking
Even tho Keanu Reeves
Portrays a more vulnerable
Jonathan Harker at the mercy
Of Dracula’s daughters in bed
In Francis Coppola’s Bram
Stroker’s Dracula (1992)

What a real estate agent—
Had to put up with these
These days—Balkan skullduggery
Troublesome transgressive
Transylvanian transformations,
Thanks to F.W. Murnau and
Werner Herzog’s vampires

Thursday, August 27, 2009

New Yorker Nosferatu

New Yorker Nosferatu

“And when he had crossed
the bridge, the phantoms
came to meet him”
—F.W. Murnau,
Nosferatu (1922)

My dear fellow—blood-sucking insomniacs
May I share with you—something you know
As immortal beings—suffering day to day
And night to night—knowing what we know

Death of centuries!—Moonstalkers! Blasphemers!
Vampires! Vases of prehistory—finally to Earth
And finally born again—thanks to Murnau and
His cameras and lights—his nouveau film noir

I hadn’t had servants—in over 400 years
And then Murnau comes—to my penthouse
And I must convince him that—I am just a man
A man like any other man—like he is a man

Except I’m eternally dead—New York City hasn’t
Quenched my thirst for blood—for many centuries
Can I even remember—the last time I tasted it?
How to select sailors & hustlers? And the rest of it?

How to act like a prince—how to live like one
I remember my first glory—my armies & retainers
I once drank from golden chalices—sweetest wine
Reduced now to—being New Yorker Nosferatu

Glen or Glenda (1953)

Glen or Glenda (1953)

One man... One woman... One night

Zucco the Voodoo Queen

Zucco the Voodoo Queen

"Ramboona never fails!"
—Bela Lugosi

Bela Lugosi—and Miss Zucco
Such Hollywood Babylon Queens!!!
Zucco worshipping—RAMBOONA
High Priestess—in black magician drag

Wearing the most gorgeously faggy
Headdress of feathers—ever worn
By any LA Priestess—from here to
Eternity—and back again!!!

Monogram quickies—so tiring
Grade-Z productions—Ed Wood
Would love—this Zombie excursion
Corpses vanishing—right & left

Carradine appears—unintentionally campy
As bongo beating retard—in the basement
Taking care of all the—lovely young zombies
Who’ll never leave—the scene of the crime

Bela Lugosi plays—Dr. Marlowe
Who practices voodoo—on pretty zombies
To revive his wife—zombiesque for 20 years
With their youthful—vital female juices!!!

Lugosi, Carradine—and George Zucco
Can’t raise the film—to much excitement
But then who needs—horror & excitement
When there’s so much—camp going on?

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Bela Lugosi—Dope Addict

Bela Lugosi—Dope Addict


“They die—DEAD!!!”
“I die—LIVE!!!”
—Bela Lugosi
Son of Frankenstein (1939)

Once an addict—always an addict
How long was—Bela Lugosi addicted?
He looks pretty loaded—in Dracula
All that Transylvanian—melodrama
Disguising how—stoned he was

And then toward the—cheap End
Willing to star in—Ed Wood’s flops
Plan 9 From Outer Space—a loser
Glen or Glenda—what a performance
Bride of the Monster—just terrible

Martin Landau—playing Bela
In Tim Burton’s Ed Wood (1994)
Johnny Depp—saves Bela’s life
Can’t help but—noticing all the
Track marks—up Bela’s arm


“Back in the old days, yes...
Now, no one gives two fucks for Bela.”
—Bela Lugosi, Ed Wood (1994)

Bela was—very goodlooking
Back in the good old days—
“The women—they preferred
The traditional monsters, then”

Suave, cool, sophisticated—
Bela had a way with women
“You must be double-jointed—
And speak Hungarian,” he said.

But time moved on—for Bela
Hollywood chewed him up and
Spit him out—pretty soon he
Became just an ex-boogeyman


“Why would Lugosi wanna
do a sex-change flick?”
—Georgie Weiss, Ed Wood (1994)

It all begins with—Christine Jorgensen
Variety printing—her shocking story
Then Ed Wood—doing his own version
Ending up with putrid—Glen or Glenda

Presold in Tulsa—you know all those
Repressed Okies—going for all that sick
Twisted perverted stuff—the poster
Leering lewdly—“I CHANGED MY SEX!!!”

The louche story grabs people—shocks them
It's about this guy—he’s crazy about his girlfriend
But he likes to wear her dresses & angora sweaters
Should he not tell her? Such tacky melodrama!!!


“This is the most uncomfortable
coffin I've ever been in. You are
wasting my time.”
—Bella Lugosi, Ed Wood (1994)

Cardboard headstones—tipped over
Spooky graveyards—obviously phony
Lobo bumps into—the scenery walls
But the crappy movies—keep coming on

And there’s Bela—old decrepit wreck
Bent over in pain—full of old memories
Needing some dough—for his next fix
The ingenious duo—Eddie and Bela!!!

Eddie asking Vampira—for a date
Star of his opus—Plan 9 From Outer Space
“But I thought you—were a fag,” she says.
“Of course not,” Eddie says. “Just transvestite”


“Dracula requires presence.
It's all in the eyes, and the
voice, and the hands...”
—Bella Lugosi, Ed Wood (1994)

Bela gets riled up—all pissed-off
“Karloff does not deserve—to smell
My shit!!!—Limy cocksucker!!!”
Ready to roll the camera—Roll it!!!

Scarier in real life—than in movies
Can your heart stand—the shocking truth?
The Awful Facts—of the True Story?
Bela Lugosi—as Vampire Transvestite?

Meanwhile Dr. Vornoff—falls into the Pit
And all the Daughters of Dracula—moan
And groan for blood—their octopus arms
Squeezing it out of him—his Euro-evil!!!


“They were mythic.
They had a poetry
to them.”
—Bella Lugosi,
Ed Wood (1994)

The pure horror—it both repels
And attracts women—because in their
Collective unconsciousness—they’ve got
This agony—about childbirth & blood

The blood is horror—to men as well
It reminds them of—something awful
The mother-lode—like runny snot
How disgusting—only fags want it

Bela’s been—feeling blue lately
What are you drinking, Bela?
Formaldehyde—I want to die
Straight up—or on the rocks?


“Pull the string!
Pull the string!”
—Bella Lugosi,
Ed Wood (1994)

Johnny Depp—sees the track marks
Along Bela's skinny bruised arm—asks
“Bela, what's in the needle?” Bela says:
”Morphine. With a demerol chaser.”

And so the usual cast—of misfits and
Dope addicts show up—quack surgeons
Criswell the Psychic—Bride of the Monster
Plus a Mariachi band—from Mexico City

Meanwhile Eddie—gets some suckers
From the local wealthy Baptist Church
In Beverly Hills—to put up the cash
Even tho Bela—has kicked the bucket


“Oh, what does that
old queen know?”
—Bunny Breckinridge
Ed Wood (1994)

Home???—I have no home!!!
I’m haunted & despised—living like an animal
The jungle is my home!!! But I will show—
The world that—I can be its Master!!!

I shall perfect my own race of people—
A race of Atomic Supermen—that will conquer
The world!!!—especially Hollywood USA
I’ll make Universal—Ruler of the Planet!!!

There’ll be lots of—awful Graverobbing!!!
Bodies stolen—from all the Morgues!!!
Vampira—the beautiful Bride of the Atom
Will rise from the dead—See my Plan 9…
Bunny Breckinridge—gets serious
It’s time for her—first hormone shots
When her breasts—go Mamie Van Doren
They’ll operate—then Goodbye Penis!!!

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Night of the Wal-Mart Dead

Night of the Wal-Mart Dead

“They’re coming to
get you, Barbara!!!”
—George Romero,
Night of the Living Dead (1968)

The movie opens up—like Night of the Living Dead
There’s shot of a—long lonely blacktop road
Leading out of a—dead-beat ghost town somewhere
Out to a Wal-Mart store—the only store in town

Johnny, a greasy duck-tail hood vainly looking at
Himself in the mirror—a perfect Elvis Presley hood
Driving his teenage sister—Barbara (Judith O’Day)
To visit the grave of their—shop till you drop mother

She’d dropped dead in the bargain aisle—eyeing crap
And they buried her—in the parking lot cemetery
A Special Deal for all Special Shoppers like her
Right by the flagpole—next to the gas station

Johnny is chewing gum—sipping a can of beer
Bitching about traveling—all the way to crummy
Deadville to show respect—to their Mommy Dearest
Bickering with Barbara—like a scene out of some

Herschell Gordon Lewis flick—Two Thousand Maniacs
“They ought to make Special Day—Mother’ Day.”
Bellyaching about the long drive—from Pittsburgh
Just to visit the gave of their—shopper Mother

“Hey, c’mon Barb—Wal-Mart’s for shopping right?”
Teasing her with the old “coming to get you” routine
But Barbara’s adamant—once a year showing respect
“They ought to make everyday—Mother’s Day!!!”

Only to find Mommy Dearest’s grave—rudely dug up
Along with others in the—scattered blacktop cemetery
Underneath some stark burned-out streetlights
Only to be quickly surrounded by—Living Dead!!!

Bodies of the Wal-Mart Living Dead—all hungry
Barbara screaming—one of the decaying zombies
Bashing in Johnny’s head—with a shovel on sale
His oozing red brains—immediately sucked up

It’s just awful—how greedy the bloodsuckers are
Their sunken-eyed depravity—chilling to the bone
Barbara barely escaping—the clutches of the dead
Horrible denizens of Deadville—brought back to life

It’s Special Day at Wal-Marts—Apocalypse Now!!!
She barely makes it to—an abandoned Winnebago
Locking the door behind her—feeling safe kinda
Only to discover her dead brother—in the bedroom

Shock of shocks—incestuous carnivore desires!!!
The look on Johnny’s dead face—what a Boner!!!
He’s the Special of the Day—Zombie El Supremo!!!
Bad Boy Brother—Wal-Mart muy grande!!!

Soon starved fanatic zombies—pounding at the door
Smashing windows to get some—Barbara’s flesh!!!
Johnny’s leering face—getting closer and closer…
Pretty soon Barbara—getting strangely excited?!?

How exquisitely stylish—pseudo-cinéma-véritée!!!
So full of vivisective—vivacious verisimilitude!!!
Turning middleclass USA—into drooling satire
Night of the Wal-Mart Dead—a great gore movie

Double-billed with Slaves of Sodom and Gomorrah
Critics raving about Night—“A horror genre gem!”
"Wal-Mart parking lot—perfect gothic landscape!"
“It’s flat murky ambience—tres Hitchcock-esque!!!”

“Brilliant open-ended metaphor—for topical anxiety!”
“Just like The Thing—Invaders from Mars along with
The Body Snatchers—Cold War dystopian critiques!"
Night of the Wal-Mart Dead—Viet Nam War satire!!!

Followed by Dawn of the Wal-Mart Dead—in color
Continuing the parody of—consumerist fantasy
Stalking the malls—zombies in Abercrombie Fitch
Living dead up escalators—cheerful Muzak shoppers

Monday, August 24, 2009

“Ack!!! Ack!!! Ack!!!”

Mars Attacks (1996)

“Ack!!! Ack!!! Ack!!!”

Speaking of “Ack!!! Ack!!! Ack!!!”

I was slumming around in the Wal-Mart store the other night, when I turned the corner and was rudely confronted with an ugly woman pushing an even uglier child in her grocery cart. The ugly brat looked just like a miniature version of the Martian ambassador in Mars Attacks!!! I tried desperately to ignore the poor ugly thing, but it grabbed me by the balls in the crowded aisle by the motor oil and shouted at me “Ack!!! Ack!!! Ack!!!” Naturally it hurt, so I started screaming “Ack!!! Ack!!! Ack!!!” too!!! Pretty soon I was surrounded by a nest of attacking Martians—all of them going “Ack!!! Ack!!! Ack!!!” in that irritating nasally demeaning way that Martians have a habit of doing when around human beings. That’s the last time I’ll ever go into Wal-Mart I said to myself, hustling and limping my way back to my dumpy Winnebago. Oh shit!!! I finally found it in the dark alien parking lot—and opened the door only to find guess what was inside!!! An Ack!!! Ack!!! Martian Family had commandeered my Winnebago!!! I fled the Wal-Mart parking lot—with jeering Martians Ack-Ack-Acking in my ears!!!

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Snarke Negative Capability

Snarke Negative Capability

“I mean Negative Capability,
that is when man is capable
of being in uncertainties,
Mysteries, doubts without
any irritable reaching after
fact & reason.”
—John Keats, Sunday
21 Dec. 1817, Hampstead

And so—I let go
By a fine isolated verisimilitude
Caught from the Penetralium of Mystery

From being incapable—of remaining
Content with half-knowledge—I cleave
Thru texts that would—otherwise bore me

The further I get into this—the more the
Sense of Snarke—overcomes every other
Moment—obliterating the Now!!!

Negative Capability

Negative Capability

“Papa was a rodeo—
Papa was a rock ‘n’ roll band
I could play a guitar and
Ride a steer before I could stand”
—Stephin Merritt
“Papa Was a Rodeo,”
The Magnetic Fields

Haiku for Barton

Haiku for Barton

Au contraire my dear—
I love Wichita pussy
Kansas boyz are tight!!!

Interview with Silva Vacarro

Ryan Phillippe Baby Doll (2009)

Interview with Silva Vacarro

I found Baby Doll—different that evening
She had this Mona Lisa—innocent smile

We planned a new wedding—her and me
“Where is the magic—Archie promised me?”

She grew up suddenly—after the lemonade.
She had many refinements—like her smile

Baby Doll and me—we got married
I put a crib—in every room…

Saturday, August 22, 2009

The Trees of Lost Time

Vincent van Gogh The Poplars at Saint-Rémy

The Trees of Lost Time

“Learn from the
winter trees…”
—Carol Ann Duffy
“Unloving,” Rapture

I’ve learned—from winter trees
To kiss the leaves—a long goodbye
Seeing how they—hold their faces
Stricken by Fall—autumnal fingers
Turning to ice—beneath the skylight

Deciduous trees—so much like
Ghost ships shedding sails—
Tall poplars, leafy elms, great
Chestnut boulevards—weeping
Willows, cherry, orange, lime…

It used to depress me—making
Me dumbstruck as summer fell
Away—but then that’s when the
Cedars & firs bend in the moonlight
Welcoming the Pineapple Express

Scudding clouds—perpetual rain
My breastbone—throbbing like some
Turkey wishbone—deep inside me
Just above my Frankenstein heart
Stitched together—monsoon again!!!

Seagulls—high over the lake
Crows from—Dead Horse Canyon
Cormorants gannets—swallows
Down by the dock—swooping thru
The barn door—of my gone mind

Our Filmography

Our Filmography

“and the Oscar-winning
movie in your heart”
—Carol Ann Duffy
“Art,” Rapture

Only films now—our filmography
Filmscripts, Netflix—images
Captured in—chilling celluloid
But even now—that’s outdated too
Fizzled VHS—like Miss Havisham’s
Wedding cake—rotting on the table

Old film palaces—bright marquees
Dark mysterious balconies—curtains
And staircases—graced with fine
Red velvet—brass railings, ushers
In smart uniforms—guiding us with
Flashlights—to an empty seat

More like the passion—of grande
Opera—those huge theaters we left
Applause, utter darkness, classy
Excitement—echoes that we left
Replaced by TV—teenage drive-ins
And now—home entertainment

Hollywood Oscar-winning movies—
Ancient projection booths—smooching
In the Bijou balcony—sometimes the
Only choice left for life’s unrequited
Loves and rejections—sitting alone
Letting Bette Davis—console us

Baby Doll (2009)

Baby Doll (2009)

Matt Damon as Archie Lee Meighan
Todd Black as Baby Doll Meighan
Ryan Phillippe as Silva Vacarro

Baby Doll: “Sometimes, big shot, you don't seem to give me credit for very much intelligence at all. I've been to school in my life—and I'm a magazine reader!”
Not such a baby!!! Not such a doll!!!
But man enough—to know the difference!!!

Todd Black’s role is raw electricity! His portrayal is a sensation!

From the author of "A Streetcar Named Desire"!

19 years old and married...but not really!

He’s nineteen. He makes his sugar daddy keep away—but he won't let the stranger go.

He's nineteen. He's married two years—quite a boy— and not quite a Man...

Baby Doll Meighan (Todd Black) is a pretty, vacuous Southern “white trash” stud who at 19 still sleeps in a crib and sucks his thumb. He’s has been kept for two years by ineffectual, bigoted Archie Lee (Matt Damon). The couple have not yet consummated their marriage because Archie Lee promised Baby Doll's dying mother that he would not touch her son until he said he was "ready for marriage." Archie is frustrated by this strain and obliged to peek at his squirmy half-dressed boy-bride through a hole in her bedroom wall. Archie Lee is further humiliated and incensed by a flashy Sicilian business rival (Ryan Phillippe) who has recently managed to force Archie Lee's decrepit cotton gin out of business. One night in a fit of desperation and frustration, Archie Lee burns down his rival's cotton gin. The rest of the story describes the Sicilian's revenge as he blatantly pursues and seduces a distraught but sensually aroused Baby Doll, and attempts to terrorize him into revealing Archie Lee's crime.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Mukluk Boyfriend

Mukluk Boyfriend

Mukluk kid—Call of the Wild!!!
Dancing nude—in your cabin
It sure ain’t—a fancy condo!!!

With nothing on—but your
Coyote mukluks—showing off
The way the boyz—do it right!!!

Up North—in rainy Fairbanks
All the way—to the Bering Sea
All I can say—is take me!!!
When dayz—grow short and
Nightz grow long—Northern Lights
In your long black Indian hair

What else—can a guy do except
Enjoy Eternal night—stay loaded
Feel it all the way—to Yellow Knife!!!

Interview with the Martian Ambassador

Mars Attacks Again

“Ack! Ack! Ack!”
—Martian Ambassador
Hey nonny ding dong, alang alang alang!!!Boom ba-doh, ba-doo ba-doodle-ay!!! Oh, life could be a dream (sh-boom)!!! If you could take me up to Mars above (sh-boom) If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love Life could be a dream, Devil Boy (Hello hello again, sh-boom and hopin' we'll meet again) Oh, life could be a dream (sh-boom) If only all my Martian dreams would come true (sh-boom) If you would let me spend my whole life lovin' you Life could be a dream, Mars Boy Now every time I look at you Something is on my mind (dat-dat-dat-dat-dat-duh) If you do what I want you to baby, we'd be so fine Oh, life could be a dream (sh-boom) If you could take me to Martian bliss up above (sh-boom) If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love Mars could be a wetdream sweetheart!!! Sh-boom sh-boom Ya-da-da Da-da-da Da-da-da Da Sh-boom sh-boom Ya-da-da Da-da-da Da-da-da Da Sh-boom sh-boom Ya-da-da Da-da-da Da-da-da Da, Sh-boom!!! Sh-boom sh-boom Ya-da-da Da-da-da Da-da-da Da Sh-boom sh-boom Ya-da-da Da-da-da Da-da-da Da Sh-boom sh-boom Ya-da-da Da-da-da Da-da-da Da, Sh-boom!!!

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)

“Con-artists, barefaced
liars, clocks shuffle
the hours slowly”
—Carol Ann Duffy, “Losers,”
The Other Country

I kept his photo—on the fridgeso so that every time—i got hungrythere he was—on the front doorstaring at me—mendaciouslyhe didn’t have—an honest bonein his body—and everybody inzilla knew—he was no goodbad seed—to the bonebut i didn’t care—i loved himand that made up—for all hisduplicity—doing me in andhustling me—for moneythen one day—i was browsingthe internet—and came acrosshis photo—in the sexual predatorlist of zillah—murderous felonshe still had—that evil malemendacity—on his smirking lipshow i wanted—to wipe it offhis haughty dishonest face!!!they caught him—driving aroundlike a scene out of—pulp fictionwith a knife—porno in the frontseat—and no pants on!!!a distraught girl—turned him inso now he was on—the sexualoffender’s list—pouty pic onall the computer screens…male mendacity—full of liesi was still—a sucker for himtho supposedly he was reformedand a born-again zillah christian?first godzilla baptist church—it even had a big statue on thefront lawn—of the infamousjapanese sat matinee monster!!!the congregation—was full ofreformed sexual predators andmendacious felons—and he wasnaturally a devoted deacon…even they could testify—how used and abused—howunashamedly unforgivablyhe conducted sunday school!!!when i reminded him—of hisstatus as a felon—he gave methe finger—and charged mehis usual mendacious fee…$100 was cheap—back thenso i hocked my mother’s jewelsand he made me pray for it inthe godzilla baptist basement…now who was more mendacious?him or me? his letting himselfbe done for filthy money—orme down on my filthy knees?my morals—what morals?the morals of a cat on a hottin roof—gooper’s wife goingfor another no-neck rug-rat?gauche gonadal grotesquery—groaning like jimmy swaggartin that cheap new orleans motelpraising a forgiving jaysus christ?ungodly gifted greaser—oily duck-tailed sulky sullenelvis the pelvis hips withoutsockets or shameless sini was like maggie the cat—desperate to prove to theworld and big daddy thatbrick was the real thing!!!but what did big daddy care—slowly dying of rectal cancer shooting up with morphine toease his own sad mendacity?like father like son—it ranin the family tree—big daddywas all roots and branchesof the twisted american treemendacity makes all of us—monsters for the male id at least that’s the way it wasin the baptist basement…bad boyz—and bad seed!!!sex wasn’t safe—in the ‘50ssteve mcqueen’s—the blog!!!convict love—in cold blood!!!zillah—down in the vineyardscolumbia river—slithering closeeven when he got older—hisvaricose veins—turned me on

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Schwarzenegger in Mukluk Drag

Schwarzenegger in Mukluk Drag

No Ugg!!! Mukluk Best For Political Season!!!

No, this isn't an exercise in bad imitations of Native American or Eskimo Fashion Design and Haute Couture. But it may be a nod to their Style.


Touting the Mukluk boots as the newest Alaskan Campaign fashion, the uber-trendy Arnold Schwarzenegger seems all but ready to charm the entire Ugg Population of Alaska to become the first President of the new Offshore Republic—Pacifica.

How exhausting it is to keep up with the trends!!! But the Governator of California—former champion weightlifter and Hollywood movie star—knows how important it is to win the Alaska voters. Governor Schwarzenegger wants to be Pacifica POTUS really bad—the Ugg voters have a friend with the charming goodlooking Schwarzenegger who isn’t bashful about showing a little leg to be El Presidente.

Ugg voters are usually unfashionable in their various mukluk footwear—but recently a pair of coyote mukluks worn by Schwarzenegger at the Fairbanks YMCA drew rave reviews from the usual stoic Indian and Fisherman community. Ears pricked up—when the CA Governator pushed the idea of—the powerful Pacific Wedge of California, Oregon, Washington and Alaska joining together to form a new West Coast Republic.

What better way to stir up publicity and add a little flair to the new concept—than to wear Mukluk boots in the nude and boogie in the igloos with the new generation of Eskimos, Fishermen, Slackers, Hippies and other Pacifica proletariat bent on secession from the Beltway DC Queens back east.

What a dilemma!!! How can lobbyists buy-off a new generation of Mukluk-booted white trash rowdies—when they have everything they already want? Naturally earthquakes, erupting volcanoes and perfect waves lapping the edge of the Gulf of Alaska are demonstrating their approval for the Election of—President Arnold Schwarzenegger as the new Mukluk Major Duomo of the Known Universe!!!

The Governator

The Governator

Joanna Silvestri

Joanna Silvestri

“The clinic wasn’t
luxurious” —Roberto
Bolaño Distant Star

The last time I saw her—
Before we said goodbye
She turned on the TV
And switched to something
On the Italian channel.

We shook hands—
And I left—as I was going
Out the door—I couldn’t
Help glancing back at her

She already had the
Headphones on—and
There was an odd
Expression on her face

A military sort of—
Expression—I don’t know
How to describe it—
As if her sick room…

The cockpit of a spaceship—
And she were the pilot
Firmly in control. And what
Happened in the end?

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Cleaving the American Wave

Jeremy Bennett “The Perfect Wave” (2008)

Cleaving the American Wave

“Space assumes the form
of a bubble—whose limits
are entirely plastic”
—Kit Robinson
In the American Tree

“The cleavage—
goes through all the
phases of experience.
It is the jump from
prose to the process
of the imagination”
—William Carlos Williams
Spring and All

The cleave—is incomplete
It’s not just—left brain/right brain
It’s West Coast/East Coast WAVE

The Western Imagination—
Versus the worn-out decadent
Sold-out old-money East Coast

The cleave—is right down the
Mississippi Middle of America—
The East Coast—is fryed

Stale as toast—desolate
Bad boyz—of the Beltway

West coast cleavage—goes
Just the opposite way thru
Olson’s projective verse

East coast Maximus—dead
Dead as Massachusetts Gloucester
Time to map Maximus—Westcoast now

Cleavage—jumps from one
Coast to another—Movement
Is the American imagination

Only trailer trash Imagination
In all its vulgar immediateness
Can dynamize it—Transpacifica!!!

Transatlantic—poetry is dead
The Euro-imagination—stinks
Except for Cézanne & Picasso

The pure products—of America
Go crazy—Jars in Tennessee crack
Old red Wheelbarrows—rot

Time for some—West Coast
Devil-may-care Indian blood
The sheer lust for adventure

Numbed terror—Perfect Wave
Brains—the truth about being
Wild and Free—once again!!!

The Cleavage—is complete
The Blogosphere—is the Net
Vast Pacifica—the new WAVE!!!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Major Earthquake Zone

Major Earthquake Zone

LOS ANGELES—seismic shock
From Baja to San Francisco
Greeted the West Coast today

California, Oregon, Washington—
As well as tremoring Alaska slid
Into the sea—like a new Ship

Long expected but still a surprise—
Arnold broke the bottle of champagne
Against the bow of California state

Launching could no longer be secret—
Oregon, Wobbly Washington and
Palin POTUS Alaska—followed next

The Great West Coast Wedge—
Offshore Republic of the New Century
Will Wonders never cease, my dears?

Bayliner Boy

Bayliner Boy

“If you think
till it hurts”
—Carol Ann Duffy
Mean Time

If you don’t think—
About it, then it’s easy
Floating out there in the
Middle of Andrews Bay
In the heart of what
Doesn’t happen

Each day—the kid
In the cabana wakes up
And takes me for a ride
Past the rich real estate
Mansions of Mercer Island—
But I’m wealthier…

Past the putrid odors—
Streaming down from the
Fish Hatchery into the lake
The smell of Mother Nature—
Young Captain Nemo of my
Little Nautilus—he smells too

The Bayliner boy drives—
Nude past the Gates bunker
In Medina—the sun shining
Down on his back as I lounge
In the backseat—gone waves
Jetsam & flotsam behind us


—for Track Palin
“When I awoke
a brand new planet
had been given a name”
—Carol Ann Duffy
“Pluto,” Mean Time

When I woke up—
A brand new country
Had been given a name
Alaska USA

This Home I’m in—
It didn’t wash my mouth
With soap—I was profane!!!
I thought Palin, Palin, Palin
Palin Planet, Northern World!!!

It was the Day, my dears—
When the Earth stood still and
I noticed things— Klaatu barada
Nikto was a weeping hourglass
Turning time back for me…

I was a Fisherman’s son again—
Swallowed by the Giant Whale
And when the whale regurgitated
Me onto the beach of Fairbanks
It was my father’s laugh I heard!!!

To think of the vast world—
Of Pacifica—another world in
The dark unreachable what
Of what it was like to be
Way down there deep
Alone in the belly of Time…

The Palin Dynasty (2008-2012)

The Palin Dynasty (2008-2012)

“A perfect plagiarism—
everything is old & new
only the imagination—
is undeceived”
—William Carlos Williams
Spring and All

Once upon a time—Alaska
Was a different country not just
Another State—above the 48
Known as—USA Inc

Long before—California said
Bye-bye—seceding from the
Union—Arnold Schwarzenegger
At the helm—Governator

Alaska—noble Land of the
Midnight Sun—and Black Oil
Poised like a—perfect Iceberg
Nine-tenths—below the waves

Down deep—frigid waters
Gulf of Alaska—undulating
From Anchorage—to Nome
Yellow Knife—to Tokyo!!!

While the—Second Great Depression
Raging down below—in the USA
Götterdämmerung Wall Street greasers
Doomed—once again by greed

Up North—in Eskimo Country
The Palin Dynasty—ruled the
Northern Lights—Midnight Sun
Palin and Power = Black Gold

Schadenfreude —Fig Leaves
Film noir—Beltway gangsters
Tricky Dickie—Watergate
Pushy Ponzi—Weltanschauungs

Alaska as—The Big Enchilada
Encompassing—the Last Wilds
Of the Human Imagination
What’s it mean—to be Free?

The Palin Dynasty—Trailer Trash
Century—making it truly happen
Bridging East—and West!!!

Bristol’s son—Trig becoming the
New Emperor—White Trash King
Guiding the Imperial—Stryker legions
Vladivostok (Владивосток)—Victory!!!

Monday, August 17, 2009

Track Palin

Track Palin
Us Eskimo boyz—we Vote for Track!!!
Track be our—Mukluk Lover Boy!!!
Track be our—Snowmobile Sun & Moon!!!
We vote Track—for Northern Lights Love!!!
Track be Wild—just like Us!!!
Track be Wolf—Track be Bear!!!
Track be Eternal Night—Track be Star!!!
Fuck the crummy—Lower Forty-Eight!!!
If CA gets Arnold—we want Track!!!
We want Track—Son of the North!!!
We want Alaska USA—You Betcha!!!
Track Palin—Call of the Wild!!!

The Song is You

The Song is You

“I ask you—is there
anybody here—as happy
as I am?”

I hear music when I look at you,
A beautiful theme of every dream I ever knew.
Down deep in my heart, I hear it play,
I feel it start when Alaska melts away.

I hear music when I touch your hand,
A beautiful melody from some enchanted land,
Down deep in my heart, I hear it say
Is this just another stupid lay?

I alone have heard this lovely strain,
I alone have heard this glad refrain,
It must be POTUS inside of you
Why can't you just let it go?

Why can't you let me know?
Why don't you know the song my heart would sing?
That beautiful rhapsody of whale blubber and fat,
That music so sweet, the words so moosey...
The song is you!!!

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Sarah Palin—Wasilla Swan Song

Just say no to hockey moms!!!
That’s all I can say—about Palin.
If I hear—one more idiot saying
She has that—naughty librarian look
I’m going to puke—on the TV

We’re seriously—fucked in 2012
We might as well—just hold the
Next election—coming up soon
In the Wal Mart—parking lot!!!
Or is it that way—already???

After the election—I’m afraid that
We’ll all be sent off—to the secret
Reeducation camps—in Nome
Oh Lordy—am I ready to be saved?
Quick—the morphine-adavan drip!!!

Track’s a good-looking kid—so what
If his hockey mom—is Alaska governor?
He’s a ripe candidate—in years to come
To be President himself—out of a sense
Of entitlement—if nothing else!!!

Entrenching the Right Wing—isn’t that
The name of the game—giving moral
Waivers to guyz—like Track Palin
Forgiving them of—their pre-Service
Behaviors—as long as it wasn’t queer?

Why is it the—“family values” people
Are the ones—with the most fucked-up
Kids on the planet—you dumb-ass
Evangelical snots—why? Because all
Kids are the same—worthless pieces
Of shit—who want to fuck & get high!

C’mon get real—the right wing gives
A fuck about pro-life religious values
Their greedy GOP outlook is hardly
Shocking anymore—their hypocrisy
Just another crummy Ponzi scam!!!

Rich country club—hockey moms—
Not your typical—Wal Mart sluts
They still drive—Cadillac Esplanades
No matter what the—price of gas
Cell phones—growing out their ear!!!

All the girls—loved Track Palin
But the Alaskan—Eskimo boyz liked
Him even better—handsome nude
Dude—dancing around in the igloos
Nothing on but—fuzzy mukluks!!!

According to the—National Enquirer
And who believes them—after lying
About Edwards—cheating on his wife
The Palin family—is a trailer trash
Disaster on wheels—but surely not!?!

C’mon Gintaras—I can see it now
One of the sad acts—of Saddest
Music of the World—welcome to
Winnipeg—please enjoy the beer
Gimme white trash caricatures!!!

Claudius—said that only Rome could
Heal itself—after indulging in the worst
Of the worst corruption—and evil
The bottom-fish—gotta rise & rot!!!

Maybe we haven’t—bottomed out yet
There’s still more—Republican evangelical
Insanity to endure—before we can be
Americans again—all I can say is that
Where the fuck—is the adavan-drip???

Rome didn’t rot in a day—they say
So I’m not pulling my—fucking hair out
Because totalitarian, fascist, war-
Mongering Rome—levitated rather
Nicely over here—to the Beltway…

Get ready for a—Jerry Springer Show
It’s right around the—fucking corner
How to counter this? You can’t—
It’s like Watergate—they learn from
Their mistakes—You Betcha!!!

The First Lady—and her Family
Todd, Trick, Bitch, Fuck, Penis and
Pooper—I can’t wait for them to begin!!!
What fun we’ll have—a true-blue
Religious right—Sit-com from Hell!!!

I love—cultural Fundamentalism
Using your kids—and the Church
To get Power—and create Perception
Faith, Hope and Love—the only way!!!
The American Way—You Betcha!!!

When I say something—upstanding
And Proud—why do I feel like gagging
Down in some Berlin bunker—while
The Mongolian mobs—maraud the
Outskirts, suburbs—then City Hall!?!

According to—The National Enquirer
Wasilla Alaska—is Dante’s Inferno
It’s got a huge meth problem—and
And the sainted Republicans—are up
To their necks—in polar bear kaka!!!

Do condoms—create pregnancy?
Hardly my dears—hello planet earth?
Does birth control—create babies?
Well, do they waltz in Vienna?
What’s next? Todd wants sex change?

No wonder Todd—fishes all the time
No wonder he stays away—I would too
Snowmobiles sound—fun to me
How to get away—from Whale Blubber?
How to hide from—the Moose Queen?

Sarah Palin: Saddest Music the World

Sarah Palin: Saddest Music the World

In 2009, in Alaska during the American Great Depression, the brainless baroness of Alaska industry, Lady Helen Port-Huntley (Governess Sarah Palin), promotes a contest to choose the saddest political issue in the world and find where the real thinkers are. People come from all parts of the world, including her lovely husband Todd Palin who simply can't believe that Miss Whale Blubber Miss Moose Hunter has became Mayor and then Governor!!!

Naturally like any modest Alaskan fisherman, Todd Palin feels funny about his wife’s ambitions. That she ran for Vice President of the USA was bad enough—along with that sad old frog McSame!!!

What Sad Music to my ears!!!

But it gets worse!!!

Bristol Palin Pregnant!!!

GOP Shocked!!!

Sarah Palin Steps Down!?!

Nope!!! She run runs for POTUS!!!

Yes, now Miss Whale Blubber wants to be POTUS!!! My Gawd!!! Says Todd Palin to his daughter and her seminal boyfriend. Miss Moose Hunter is quitting being Governor of Alaska—now she wants to be POTUS!!!

And look at the dynamite political issue she’s chosen as her Don Quixote Windmill to charge into the next Presidential Campaign!!! Healthcare and sad music Euthanasia!!! For the poor sad music Wrinklies!!!

Oh what Sad Music!!! Saddest Music in the World!!!

Steve Reeves: Saddest Music the World

Steve Reeves: Saddest Music the World

And now—for the Saddest Music!!!
The Saddest Music—in the World!!!
The whole wide world—my dear!!!
Vintage bodybuilders—of France!!!
Straight (?) to you—from Winnipeg!!!

Poor Palin—ex-POTUS Princess!!!
Beer Baroness—from Alaska!!!
During our—New Great Depression!!!
Dumped by hubby—kids no good…
The Saddest—Saddest Music of All!!!

Oh dear me—let the tears flow!!!
Starring Steve Reeves—My Man!!!
Monsieur Amérique so fine!!!

omfg so sexy!!!

his butt!!!!!

tres excelente!!!

sans steroids!!!

sans hype!!!

Saturday, August 15, 2009

The Pool of Forgetfulness

The Mummy (1932)
The Pool of Forgetfulness

Assistant: “Maybe he got too gay
with the vestal virgins in the temple.”

Doctor Muller: “Possibly.”

Lo and behold—Horror Movie Fairy Tale!!!
A Fractured Fairy Tale—out of the Blue!!!
Fractured—and full of fractal fissures!!!
Full of Mandelbrot detours—just for me!!!

Deeper than deep—endless Black Hole
See how it slides deeper—down into the Pool?
How exquisitely labyrinthine—the Pool of Love
The Pool of—ancient Sphinx Forgetfulness

Mirror of beauty—Pool of Egyptian Death
Im-ho-tep still in love—centuries later
Princess Anck-es-en-Amon—reincarnated
From the tomb—his ancient lover again

Both back again—mysteriously reborn
Boris Karloff as—mesmerizing Ardath Bey
Zita Johann—as lost love Helen Grosvenor
Both fated by the gods—to do it again

Im-ho-tep the Egyptian—alias Ardath Bey
“You will not remember—what I show you now
And yet I shall awaken—memories of love...
And crime—and death...”

Yes, I too swooned—like Zita Johann
Staying up late—on ‘50s Saturday nights
Long before cable—and satellite TV
Long before Netflix—I was a horror queen

Rodney and the Host—jittery airwaves
Wichita Kansas TV—on KAKE-TV
From 1958 to 1959—fuzzy screens
And horror movies—up late at night

Seduced by Boris Karloff—The Mummy
Ardath Bey—lovesick Egyptian priest
Sacrilege—and ancient betrayals of death
Mummies wrapped up—alive in pyramids

How TV—the Pool of Forgetfulness
Projected images—on the fuzzy screen
Fading in & fading out—black & white
Late ‘50s TV horror shows—so exquisite

Back then—images were different
My brain wasn’t glutted yet—by overkill
By media—by advertising & politics
My bildungsroman—still books & movies

Late ‘50s—the Eisenhower years
The Kansas architecture—calm & stoic
We even visited—the Eisenhower Museum
In Abilene—young handsome football player

Handsome like Ronald Reagan—movie star
Hard to imagine him—a young lifeguard
But there he was—goodlooking young man
How many swooning queens—did he save?

That was the context—for cinema then
Black & white horror movies—plus sci-fi
The Thing and Them—Earth versus The
Flying Saucers—The World Stood Still

Staying up late—on Saturday nights
Totally engrossed by—Son of Dracula
House of Frankenstein—Wolf Man and
Mummy—Wichita-beamed zeitgeist

Friday, August 14, 2009

Zontar—The Thing From Venus (1966)

Zontar—The Thing From Venus (1966)

I’ve got the hots—for male femmes fatales
I know I’m doomed—but I can’t help it
Especially skanky male—dominatrix types

Lee Van Cleef—in It Conquered the World
Zachary Scott—in Mildred Pierce and
Jack Palance—in Panic in the Streets

I’ve got this weakness—for long lanky ones
The kind that cheat—and treat you cheap
They’re the worst kind—Tall Evil Meat

Worse than Jane Greer—Out of the Past
Barbara Stanwyck—in Double Indemnity
Tacky Ann Savage—in awful Detour

Sneaky as Joan Bennett—Scarlett Street
Sultry as Ava Gardner—in The Killers
Crazy as Peggy Cummins—Gun Crazy

Moody as Marilyn Monroe—in Niagara
Seductive as—Kim Novak in Vertigo
Fey as Faye Dunaway—in Chinatown

The List—goes on and on forever
As long as there’s—men who are suckers
Suckers to be had—like you and me

We’re all a bunch—of sick losers
Falling for Bad Seed—those awful
Young male femmes fatales!!!

I feel sorry for—Zontar Thing from Venus
Falling head over heels—for Lee Van Cleef
Earthmen aren’t easy—they come awfully hard

The same with psychopaths—like Jack Palance
I feel sorry for poor Tommy Cook—enamored
With tall lean white trash—Big Easy hoodlums

Guys like Zachary Scott—betraying women
Like Joan Crawford—going after Ann Blythe
The cute daughter—simply despicable!!!

What is it about—male femmes fatales?
Bringing out the worst—in the best of us?
Is it really worth it—to be whorishly in love?

Only to be dumped—like poor Zontar
The Thing from Venus—enslaved & cruelly
Exsanguinated—in Cold Blood!!!

The Cleaving Tree

The Cleaving Tree

“The cleave form—
is a contranym”

last night—the tree dreamed me
the world tree—deep inside me
cleaved me again—down the middle
no longer out there—the hoh river valley
the singing cicadas—fleets of seagulls
they were all gone—it was just me
I was yggdrasil—cleaved world tree
split down—the middle of me
like a cracked lobster—opening up
from sternum to—bellybutton
invisible hole—in my broken heart
murmuring down there—to itself
I thought it was—singing cicadas
seagulls eagles—kingfishers crows
feasting in the forest—flying overhead
but it was really—just me
being cleaved—by the world tree
the roots and branches—inside me
the language—that was a tree
the tree—that was me
the cleavage—had begun

The Dying Tree

“I am a doctor
yet I see death

the cleaving tree—inside me
was murmuring—a secret message
just for me—but I couldn’t hear it
it was my doppelganger—of death
and when my cardiologist—told me
I didn’t believe him—at first until
he put the stethoscope—to my chest
and said listen—listen to the
murmuring tree—deep inside me
and what I heard—was the whooshing
of death itself—the backwash of blood
that was killing me—making me weak
the heart of the tree—that was me
veins and ventricles—dying dead done
you can hear it—a block away he said
and so they anesthetized—the tree in me
cut me open—from clavicle to bellybutton
replacing the throbbing me—that hurt
that made me weak—so i couldn’t breathe
the calcified valve—fluttering in blood
the stormy kansas sky—my tornado me
showing me—on the endoscopy screen
the thing that was killing—the tree in me

The Healing Tree

“The concept was already
within me, it was inevitable”

they cleaved the tree—inside me
the murmuring of death—that was me
and I dreamed—of another world
it was my doppelganger—double trouble
and when I woke up—I wasn’t me
I was lost in—the house of pain
a mansion with—many dark rooms
many dark rooms—waiting for the other
teaching me—what I surely didn’t know
nor did I want to know—the hell inside
cut bones, split muscles—bloody nerves
it was all a big mistake—I said to myself
wishing I’d never—made the choice
it sounded so simple—just a valve job
a mere tune-up—and you’ll be brand new
but it wasn’t that easy—pain-killers don’t
kill the pain—pain had its own plans for me
and for a week—pain pinned me down
like an Indian swami—to a bed of nails
I screamed silently—beneath a moon
a thousand nights—Maria Ouspenskya werewolves
no longer a man—more a wounded animal
and they saved my life—for another day

The New Tree

“I was planning a novel
in which two different
species on another world
needed to communicate,
one by light and image,
the other by sound & word”

they cleaved me—back again
I don’t know how—but they did it
one into two—then two into one
the two that was—too much for me
the two that was one—troubling me
a unique collaboration—doubling me
the denouement of one world—dying
this exsanguination—of another world
all that was not me—my own doing undone
this strange doubling—this unique
collaboration of light & image—joining
sound and words—heads & tails
pairs of I Ching coins—yin yang
tossed in the air—thrown on a rug
split down the middle—joined as one
a pair of trigrams—magic hexagram
t’ai / peace—my laughing bellybutton
rubbing buddha’s belly—making a wish
for me it was—the new me
goodbye to all that—that wasn’t me
there in bed—new jonah and lazarus

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Ryan Phillippe as Bride of Frankenstein

Ryan Phillippe as Bride of Frankenstein

31-year-old actor Ryan Phillippe drops his pants (rather, someone does it for him) in political thriller Five Fingers, which takes place in Morocco. Dutch philanthropist Martijn is in town to assist with the creation of a food charity. But gets captured and chained up by Laurence Fishburne. See Ryan Phillippe sponge-bath below:

Go High on Top, Low Below

Go High on Top, Low Below

This is one of the most versatile styles here: dressy enough for an event, loose enough for jeans. Apply volumizer to damp hair (try Garnier Fructis Style Body Boost Volumizing Gel, $4.50, at drugstores) and air-dry. Brush hair into a low side ponytail, but don’t completely pull the end of it through the elastic—you'll make a messy chignon like Alice's. Now be a tease: Run a comb up and down the front and spray. Dress, Giambattista Valli.

Get High on Top, Low on Bottom

Ryan Phillippe, Five Fingers (2006)
Get High on Top, Low on Bottom

This is one of the most versatile styles in Hollywood: dressy enough for any romance—especially without jeans. Apply $1000 and blow-dry. Brush hair into an Elvis Presley ducktail—don’t be bashful about the Vitalis. Tease it a little bit—but don’t completely get it all excited. It’s a messy chignon all over you face. Run your tongue up and down the front and enjoy. Don’t get any on—your Giambattista Valli.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Brokeback haiku

Brokeback haiku

The problem—with love
The problem—with ex-lovers
Is they’re—never ”ex”

Les liaisons dangereuses

Les liaisons dangereuses

His sexy droopy—bedroom eyes
Puffy pouty lips—head full of curls
Ryan Phillippe looks—like he’s just
Been peeled off—a Botticelli canvas

Surely he’s—the cruelest most
Exquisitely sullen—celluloid god
That decadent—Hollywood Babylon
Ever concocted—since Valentino

Based on— Pierre-Ambroise-Francois
Choderlos de Laclos’—tale of urbane
Detachment—Les liaisons dangereuses
The pool scene is—worth dying for

It would be very hard—for me to play
Hard to get—Phillippe nude in the pool
How could any girl—stay calm with such
A circling handsome—young shark?

Ryan Phillippe

Ryan Phillippe

I saw him—one night
At Gold’s Gym—pouty
As usual—working out
Moody—movie star
Lots of—bad attitude
Which turned—me on

I first—saw him as
Shad—in Gregg Araki’s
Nowhere (1997)—
When he was 23
Alyssa’s self-destructive
Twin brother

Then as Shane O’Shea
In 54—Cruel Intentions
As Sebastian Velmont
Henry Denton in Gosford
Park—Oliver in Igby Goes
Down & the cop in Crash

Last night—I dreamed he
Said—“I want to live and
Die—like a mythological
Man”—whatever that means
I said to myself—waking
Up today—Sunday morning

I thought of—Carol Duffy
Revising myths—and fairy
Tales along—POMO lines
With pastiche—parody
And surrealism—the way
Movies—dreams work?

A day—in LA life
Dementedly funny—
Clueless—with nipple rings?

Some haiku

midnight moon

“At midnight under
the bright moon a
secret worm digs
into a chestnut”

galloping gobsmacks—
there’s a secret worm inside
my little pea-brain

oozing slobgollions

“a sweet and unctuous duty!
squeeze! squeeze! squeeze!
all the morning long!!!”
—Herman Melville,
“A Squeeze Of The Hand,”
Moby Dick

my fingers like eels—
serpentine spiralized ooze
cumly cosmetic

miss havisham

“my hand is lady mori’s hand”
—Ikkyū Sōjun, translated by
Sam Hamill, The Poetry of Zen

i sent estella—
out to fetch little pip
for a game of cards

hart crane haiku

“O Stamboul Rose—
O coral Queen!”
—Hart Crane,
“Cutty Sark,” The Bridge

stamboul rose tattoo—
handsome brooklyn bridge night
such arching biceps

frankenstein haiku

“We belong dead”
—Boris Karloff, Bride
of Frankenstein

we taught—the monster
to forget—the land of death
yet he—was haunted

death déjà vu lives—
comes & goes—for us humans
but the monster—wept