Posts tagged ‘mpls’

September 28, 2014

Dream Goals

If you treat

your goals

as dreams

they’ll disappear

when you

wake.

September 28, 2014

Modern Now

Post-Modern;
This is Art.
What History?
What Start?

September 20, 2014

Situation ( how I talk ): drinks after class

Situations ( how I talk ): drinks after class

So,
I’m at a convenient store on West Bank
Dust blowing in the wind
on a partially torn up sidewalk,
At a convenient store on West Bank

Right?
That’s where-
Okay,

So,
I’m in line to get cigarettes,
With a friend,
And my contact falls to the floor
Blurry and shit,

-This pain.

I can’t see…
It’s on the ground,
Patting my shirt, do you see?

I gleam the phosphorescence of it in the dim florescent light,
On the dirty floor,
What those had tracked in,
Just before.

You know,
I pick it up.

Ali’s behind the counter selling cigarettes
Big bright smile
Looks at me

Hey, do you have any…

He doesn’t have solution;
But he can help,
Standing there, palming the lens

I tell him to give me some Visine

I unbox it
Reluctantly-
I pop the top
With the ease of expertise

Sit at a table
Some people are eating,
Watching,
They get up and leave

I’m putting my eyeballs in.

Wetted the crumby table,
then I could see.

I wiped up what I had spilt.
And put the bottle in my bag to leave.

Thank you sir rang aloud as bells on the door-

Happily no longer in discomfort,
Then I walked across the street to Palmer’s.

September 14, 2014

Money Does Not Matter (Lavish Habit)

A weekend’s worth of cigarette smoke.

In lungs as it was,

Now

An empty yellow pack
on a cluttered coffee table;
an Indigenous effigy affixed on the front,
laying creased and crushed.

Then:

Dirty caked pealing fingers
Hangnail cuts a cloth uneven
Expensive wines stained flesh
Blood let late this summer that went

I spent two weeks in one night…

On:

Raw Oysters,
sitting next
to
translucent green Seaweed
whole and Uncooked Quail Eggs
there they lay
bei
pinked cuts
of Expensive Fish.

Let’s not forget the numerous rounds of cloudy white sake.

Champagne flow pained frontal lobe.
Nights let grow, as days let wane.
Through campus- through school,
on legs that bend- shooting pain.

Feeling as crumpled paper; trashed.
Sprawled across the lawn in the grass,
People playing games as I move past,
A backpack fully packed, on back.

When: all of sudden preparation for another week began.

And I have to leave it at that.
Money does not matter.

September 13, 2014

Ruled by Cats

Dust management,

scoop,

Lid removed;

Stench to prove-

Ammonia and hardened poop.

This moment,

What it is.

No king cleans out cat shit.

In the air hangs

remnants of digested remains.

Eyes pained

Hands to rearrange

Next to the toilet stool

What a silly fool

To be a cat;

To actually rule.

September 9, 2014

Fall 2014

Fall comes just as our sneakers have worn in
Our bike seats touch familiar under buttocks
Dying grass and flowers thin; bend in the wind,
Tree’s leaves affect intensely displayed colors.
Pools close and drain, with new frost to blame.
Mothers count their wandering curious young.
A yellowing sun grows faint, shadowing its loss.
Fathers light expensive brown cigars for fun.
Dogs and cats play-excited, loud and rowdy,
Leaves and debris blow thru them in the yard.
Cold holidays come nearer, passing yet again,
Each year grows tired, cold, aloof, and hard.
On destiny we wait; fleeting speed of time,
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter yet again align.

September 4, 2014

Oh, what a night

This lonely night,
as I scrub clean the soiled dishes.

Wet hands, same the front of my day-old shirt;
dinged pale, blotched, and loose.

Nothing in its place;
bottles falling,
corners catching everything,
dirt sticking to the floor,
as the cat meows an indecipherable slight.

All of this would be impossible if it were tried.

Still, stifling hot,
inside;
humid as the night goes on,
out there
sits a lonely parking lot.

There is no relief, save for another extreme; Midwest seasons.

-We know, we know.

Small things noticed under skin,
this sliver- this time, sharp and razor thin.

Walking into this empty living room
the radio addresses the score loudly.

Fans cheer,
announcers describe.
Sitting on the couch I put my feet up,
and sink in.

Oh, what a night.

September 3, 2014

Day One: Campus Type

Cigarette ashes hang like eyelashes

of campus distractions,

from broken hand sinewy seams

this be the death of me-

 

…  and some;

carless,

embarrassed,

 

No Feelings: numb.

 

American Literature and computer generated poetry; as art- good start to the semester, the sun is out in all its glory.

 

Covered in leather and bruises, she moves, tattooed, wounds fester, pimple-faced and searching for pleasure and adventure, no more mommy and daddy leisure.

 

It’s true.

 

Beautiful green lost confused, children adults on the move; me too,

How about you?

 

Choose.

 

Brilliant fulfillment,

United States we live in, lucid livid.

 

Self –surgery

type urgency.

 

Bearing my frown like a leaky raincoat in the center of this rainstorm,

maintaining a productive stance on consuming all there is to absorb.

 

Advice: Mornings are easier when you don’t drink every night,

but for what I’ve just seen I just might.

 

Educate me on this system.

Please, teach me now. 

August 29, 2014

Minneapolis, The Production.

Filched every best part of art,
of everything.
Singing in the rain
as if a poignant destiny.

Blessings of death
and the mounting of enemies,
over the stone arch bridge
on two rims,
bubbles and scum,
Mississippi muddy brown waters below.

Then we eat, sleep, drink, and move on.

Tattoos and body piercings
Ostentatious Restaurants.
Underground Hip-Hop
and Poetry- the life, so long…

A million extras with a million extra lines; you see the conundrum.
Oh, the Cheeky Bastard.

A problem with me,
probably-
Attitude,
something rude.

Perhaps.

Transcendentalists and progressives, pass aggressive.
Just listen to those intellectuals. (How Special)

Bowel movements
have caused more pain
with more tact and significance,
more movement,
and,
yet, who knows the difference?

Faces are wearing half-hearted pleas of forgiveness, wholly realistic.
– Yellow toothed Grimace.

- Some greyed with fluoride.

- Dentists to witness.

On a real morning
in the real rain
with real useless thoughts,
another really real day.

Overcast above skinny jeans,
mind over matter,
beer filled bladder.

-What we’ve gained.
Promising to keep promises
Walking home just to kick dirt
Flat-tire again- spare me your words.

Unable to afford trivial debate; I stand at a deficit.

Nicollet downtown slicked squares
cut from somwheres- elsewheres.

Reading books to stay relevant;
vintage classics, or course,
Conversations alone,
clean-cut brilliance, absurd.

Excuse me Mr. Artist, can you paint a picture?
Anytime.
Can you write a song?
Any tune, with any rhyme.
Can you sell millions upon millions?
Hopes and dreams, divine.
Can you deal with the adoring throngs- fanfare, that is…

Kids beat drums on the streets,
attempt at viral video,
as the beggar creates a compelling story (wife, child, car, broken, needs, hospital)
Let me give a little-

I spend time at the liquor store too.

Questions: Do I invest in this practice?
Or do I keep ignoring?
Investigate the occasion,
I mean, I guess, I live in poverty too…

No snow on the sidewalk,
just shoes.
Heat index and sweat,
rugged, as it proves.

No ice- or melting with salt under foot,
hanging cigarette ash on stiff upper lip.

Pedestrians that give real looks
External cost magazine crooks.

Signs in downtown read: affluence, success, money.
Neon lights of red, yellow, green, blue and orange,
They sparkle and shimmer in cold and warm,
even in the daylight morn, bikers, buses, taxis, sparkle adorn.

Then the director yells: CUT!!!
And the lights go dim on the set of Minneapolis.

August 25, 2014

Bad Sunburn

Salt
Sweat
Sunburn
These seasons…

Huffing and puffing
Ride to work

Glowing ball
in the sky
beating down,
Breaking
the dew point record;

Yesterday,
High-rise
thick clouds,
Lightening show
and shadows

Values darkened and stiff,
These puffy entities-

Radio in earbuds, bag stuck to back, stinging, burning, sloughed off skin, in movements, in moments.
Now the day begins.

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