on linoleum

the radio was on the fritz
jumping and jittering from one station to another
winter winds will be around for a while longer
the tyre sales is still on
a voice, insurance ad

a hit record from when you were younger and smaller
and couldn’t reach the dial on the radio
and you danced on linoleum floors next to the fridge

(you saw crumbs underneath)

the song reminds you of the smell of burnt toast
and the feeling that the world was immeasurably large
and was more than the Atlas view of green and blues

on days like this
you remember days like that

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15 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    SOUNDS LIKE OLD JOHNNY WALKER HAS SWALLOWED THE EUCHARIST AGAIN
    ‘REMEMBER DAYS’ WERE BACK WHEN THERE WERE RESTRAINTS
    A PERFECT GENTLEMAN IN A POLITE SOCIETY
    FIXED FEASTS ON PARTICULAR YEARS
    THE MASS OF THE CIRCUMCISION
    LUNCH MEAT FRIED ON BOTH SIDES
    HOLD THE MAYO BUT HIT THE SPIRITUAL SALVE HARD

    Like

  2. multiplemichael

    linoleum was outside the realm of Emily Dickinson
    however, she did have a small section of vulcanized kamptulicon
    that she placed under her writing chair
    which helped with the cold floor
    it started out an odd gray
    and soon stained to orange brown
    it was removed and destroyed without comment
    one by one her loved ones faded away and were laid to rest
    the complex system of the world became the closed system of her bedroom
    she would resist the kisses of male shadows knowing full well their carnal implications
    as she became bed-ridden, romantic scenes would float about the room like fog
    she often caught herself somewhere between attraction and repulsion

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  3. multiplemichael

    linoleum in a certain space with specific people in that space
    lesser poets list the details
    to elucidate meanings which are hidden
    (strange symbols on paper money)
    life absorbed and rewritten
    common conceptions of the common man
    a sort of humanist theatre
    with real predicaments
    sensed and experienced directly
    drama before it discovers its own language

    Like

  4. multiplemichael

    a man named Vladimir installed the linoleum
    he asked that I not trace his outline
    he said that everyone in his family was blind
    recognition of the past was a terrible thing
    one should try to not get caught up in the lure

    Like

  5. multiplemichael

    voracious manipulation of all available linoleum
    horizontal shifts between vertical movements
    Italian linoleum with all its inalienability
    beatniks go for novel juxtaposition
    upstairs communication
    unprecedented
    foot to mouth

    Like

  6. multiplemichael

    in Kentucky, linoleum only comes in two patterns:
    nonsense proper and improper
    the eye is attracted to places where shadows
    have obscured the original pattern
    just think about what you passively receive….
    you see codes in the clouds
    law and order and the heartbeat clock
    mathematical regularity
    things repugnant to French tastes
    a thousand poems you have somehow internalized
    complaints about past youth
    vast footnotes—your whole life a massive footnote
    overrun with weeds….the children of Eve
    the theory of sexuality
    tight shoes and nomadic sexuality
    you used yourself….honest and loyal
    never a defiant personality
    indescribable joy reading
    every good read makes for sanity
    one cannot laugh at the value of sanity
    sanity is free space to reinvent yourself

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  7. multiplemichael

    language games…will the young child talk ?
    noncentered family life in Kentucky
    cable television broadcasts that nonbeing
    and meaninglessness are universal
    Uncle Vladimir was proud of his linoleum job
    his floor covering was not a path but rather a destination
    purely functional, the pattern was a collage of his life
    by divination he could point out the happy and the sad
    love was there weighed down by tombstones

    Like

  8. multiplemichael

    while most people have hair on the top of their head
    I have the complete Torah
    not everyone can see it
    I am a sinner who asks others to return to the covenant
    I am not blind, I can see the weeds
    at night I hear the gnashing of teeth
    endless dreams of moving to purity
    from isolation back into a populated life
    Vladimir often gives me a ride in his vehicle
    the smell of the linoleum glue is haunting

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Gnashing of teeth the teeth of the blue bulls – the tapping of gnarled fingers – the nocturnal drum –
      the sound of sinners rustling in shadows – you know where you’ve come from – there is a thread that leads back there – I keep tripping through the weeds – the myth of the catcher in the rye – I ha the complete Torah to, but I sold it on eBay and spend the money frivolously –

      two many snake bites remove the teeth and make purses from the skin – I will present her with a gift at the stroke of midnight

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      HER BODY WAS A PLANK
      WHERE FOOLISH MEN WOULD DIVE OFF
      ————————————————————
      YOU WRITE POEMS ABOUT CHRONOLOGICAL TIME
      ALSO
      ABOUT FINDING YOURSELF AT WORK
      NOT ONLY ARE YOU NOT YOU
      BUT THE NEW YOU IS BETTER SUITED FOR THE JOB
      PEOPLE LIKE THE NEW YOU
      THEY FIND A WHOLE NEW SPECTRUM
      BEAUTIFUL SHINY CUTLERY
      POSSIBLY RHETORICAL GENITALS

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      MODERN POETRY —HARDLY PENANCE FOR THE SINS
      LABOR PAINS AND TURDING IN PUBLIC
      CATHOLICS REMAIN SILENT WHILE THE DEVILS SCREAM
      ONE PRIEST HAS A BACK-UP FLAG IN HIS SHORTS
      TRAFFIC CONES POINTING NORTH
      NUNS SQUAT AIMING FOR THE RIBBONS
      NAVIGATING THROUGH ADULT SEX
      PENDULOUS HITCHHIKERS
      THE SMELL FROM FUNERALS
      STRUGGLES NOT TO TOUCH
      MALE FRIENDSHIP
      WITH WARM HANDS

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        I was at work and the three witches stood in the cold – the points of a triangle
        smoking cancer and the monitor just stared at me – the dormant keyboard contains all the letters we’ll ever need –

        the vicar and priest collected all the silver cutlery from town and melted it all down – at the foundry it’s all assembled

        mention of demons and werewolves – bath salt monsters on the streets –

        a false flag

        in the detectives bunker a bell rings a light flashes
        movement on a map
        pins inserted into locations on INTEREST

        the farmer who has been struck by lightening 14 times has a permanent erection

        painful ejaculation
        singed hair &
        burnt curtains

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        ———–THE SMELL OF FUNERALS—–
        DEAD BODIES IN ALMOST EVERY ROOM
        UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS, EVEN THE LOADING DOCKS
        THE DRAIN PIPE IS BUSY WITH FLUIDS
        AT THE APPOINTED TIME, THERE YOU GO
        A SUITABLE ARENA FOR YOUR SOUL
        AS AN ACTUAL PERSON YOU WERE RATHER PINCHED
        NOW YOU ARE FREE TO EXPAND AND REFLECT

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        BIZARRE CHARACTERS AUDITIONING
        FOR THE ROLE OF JOHNNY BOY
        THE FUTURE IS CAST IN THE PAST
        JOHNNY BOY WITH COLOSSEUM RASH
        UNCLOUDED EYES ON HIS ASS
        —–DIALECTS AND WHISKERS
        AND A MANLY PIPE
        STERILE EYEGLASSES
        PSYCHOANALYTICALLY
        ————————————STERILE EYEGLASSES
        ————————————PSYCHOANALYTICALLY

        Like

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