Litkicks Message Board Archive

spontaneity relief/ sketchy diagram/ loose women

Posted to Action Poetry

im laying down on the couch my map to directionless afternoon lit pondering watching E! television and deciding that the lamp light is a cruel friend im wandering and wondering throughout my mind's laboratory what is the presence that pins me down to this olivia-green couch what spectre beholds the noises of restlessness that creates my uncertain magnetism point me with iron-clad wonder to that redd notebook that dumb little poem voyage that always makes me high juiced buzzed and revved in eternal bedazzlement the orgasm of pages that are less than extravagant point me there so i can blacken the pages with these little spectacles of big thick blasts of these rut words the silent is calm as i fall down stairs in yearning drunkenness to write whatever it is that may happen now shall i die or shiver in anticipation for the next sonnet of some kinda mind that blasts trumpets on this blue and white page my circulation of gutter words now builds up i am less than hi-fi art or magic alchemical and stereophonic poem master, so as i walk each step its a leaden shoe i need new feet the trip to an empty corner of my home so exposed so i sit in a comforting poesy poe position and think of all those literary juxtapositions that make really alotta of nonsense but for sake of time i divide my poems into nine contorting pages each some sort of valid void that makes it very apparent that my 2 hours of mad writing perhaps paid off a lady called on my sonic phone with a strange non-descript accent something about "vladimir" and the "whorehouse" wrong number so i hang it up on the crooked nail on my wall as i think now where to this vessel disappearing this young man rocking to and fro, so i disappear into the complex mazes of the patterns on my wall and drift away as the wax melts away and i am left to let it all out the cerebrum its all a point from here to there or wherever that may be back again my teeth black my jaw displaced in this muted time left to kill