at the exit
I.
All I want in the sandwich is meat,
layers of meat,
three different types
10 legs
2 wings
6 eyes
In my spare time I design logos for companies that don’t exsist.
I fall asleep and wake up three weeks later
to a thriller on TV,
a gun attached to a detective,
set somewhere but not here.
There is a bridge connecting two places.
ii.
I’d have a cameo in my own life
(if it was ever filmed)
and I’d be ‘talking man in
restaurant’
Or, ‘man in the queue at the bank’
And from the list I remembered
“(24) fear gives way to anger “
iii.
She smiles a bit more genuinely now,
these days she can swim out to the markers.
The closest you ever came to kissing her was when
you shared a joint at that party.
iiii.
I memorised the A to Z
the roads, the names. I underlinedunderlined things
with magic markers,
but realised there’s no magic in pens anymore
and I underlined important places,
you know
like churches, pubic footpaths
bridal ways, hills with low gradients,
and I still take high doses in the right
measures.
MEAT SANDWICH
IS THAT TELEOLOGICAL
OR NON-TELEOLOGICAL
ORIENTAL MYSTICISM
SPECULATIVE
and I think crazy thoughts
WOULD I EAT A MEAT SANDWICH
AND STARE AT GUSTAV JUNG’S BUTTOCKS
WOULD I EAT MEAT THAT HAD VESTIGIAL
GILL-SLITS
POETRY ONLY WORKS
IF YOU
HAVE GROUP PSYCHE-MEMORY
LIKE DRACULA
SLEEPING IN SOFT RICH SOIL
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POETRY ONLY WORKS
IF YOU
HAVE GROUP PSYCHE-MEMORY
LIKE ANGRY GOLDFISH
IN A BOWL TOO SMALL
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STIMULATED BY THE THOUGHT OF REWARD
—————————————————————–
THAT’S WHAT THE READER WANTS
————REWARD—————————————-
DRAIN THE WATER FROM THE OCEANS
GIVE US HAPPINESS
WE CAN TAKE HOME
—————————————————————–
THE CONSCIOUS MIRROR REFLECTS
THE OUTER JOHNNY BOY
THE BEACH IS NO LONGER A BEACH
WITHOUT THE WATER
JUST A PILE OF SAND AND PEBBLES
——————————————————————
UNMOURNED DEATH BY THE TONS
THERE’S A DEAD GIRL OVER THERE
GUESS WHAT COLOR HER EYES ARE
*instantly you think…not without a reward
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CRAZY CONVERSATIONS
ABOUT PAYING SOMEONE
TO BREAK IN
AND STEAL
YOUR VALUABLES
VIRTUALLY UNTOUCHED
BOOKS
FACTORY KEEPSAKES
THINGS BROWN WITH BURN
THEY FOUND YOUR MOST HIDDEN
TRIBULATIONS
GROUP PHOTOGRAPHS
WHERE I WAS SINGLED OUT
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singled out in a group photograph – school image, you at the back
left
circled with black marker – teacher to the right
fat kid in the middle
all those eyes
staring at the lens
in a police line up
your’ll never get fingered
the detectives in disguise and missing the glues
well rubbed lamp
broken spine of both book and man
( the next best line is always on tip of your tongue, out of reach )
–
I paid the man to keep the secrets
secret
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you did not pay the man enough
your secret is no longer secret
internalized I admit
lost childhood like
look, mommy !
mechanistic
flarf—an effort to recapitulate and mimic
unbroken stares at the market
the flarf machine is not dead
it leaks mockery
poetry as a dry cackling
perhaps too dry and cackling
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I GOT TOO OLD TO BE AN ALL-AMERICAN BOY
RAISED TO A PREORGASMIC PLATEAU
AND THEN DISCARDED
A LIFE OF DENIAL
DISPLACEMENTS OF INTEREST
PLENTY OF SHADOW-PLAY
PRAISE-WORTHY THOUGHT ACTIVATION
WILLING TO SWALLOW THE ALTERNATE
INNER EXAMINATION AT ART SCHOOL
A CHARADE OF OBSERVING AND WITNESSING
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YOU NEVER DISCUSS YOUR COLLECTION
OF FACTORY KEEPSAKES
MEMORY FLUTTERS
A STRONG TRANSITIONAL BROWN
——REMEMBER THAT YOU WERE ALL JAZZED
UP ON PROPHECY
THAT SOMETHING WAS GOING TO HAPPEN
DISSOLVING DAYS, MONTHS, YEARS
DECIDUOUS POEMS HAVE LOST THEIR WORDS
SCHEDULES TO OBSCURE ENDS
*you stand outside the Rush Meat Market
——hardships and adventures only a zipper away
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sometimes I think that you got paid
to erase me from the family photographs
——————————————————
always arguing the meaning of the Genesis story
Good Lord Son—it always ends in tragedy
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the pictures were sold to ‘interested parties’, friends of the one armed man – ( I won’t mention the price) –
ends in tragedy like dead men walking
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THE PRICE—GRAPES OF GALL
THE PRICE—BITTER CLUSTER
——————————————–
preoccupation with biology
human beings so rudimentary
that they are almost animal-like
erased from the family album
rudimentary, dear Michael
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PHOTOGRAPHS OF FAMILY LIFE
NEAR-CARTOON
ACTUAL GRATIFICATION
DOES NOT TAKE PLACE
DILEMMAS THAT MOVE IN DEEPER REGIONS
SAVAGE AND TERRIFYING
WHAT CHANCE OF WINNING
IN FRONTAL COMBAT ?
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the price the price the price
always about the price – like a naked arse in a smut flick
it goes up and down
up and down
rudimentary economics
supply and demand
I demand
she supplies
biology is always there
the photo album of faces of families, relatives you’ve never met, knee high to a grasshopper
dear John letters leave a bad taste in the swallow tube
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carton speech bubbles of empty rhetoric – gratification or gentrification – the myth of modernity
biting the pillow
Or bite the bullet
either way
we are marked men
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BLACKMAIL THAT KEEPS VICTIMS
FROM EXERCISING THEIR RIGHTS
WATCH STUPID SPORTS ON TELEVISION
OR CAUSE EMOTIONAL DISTRESS
IN A POSITION
TO GRANT OR WITHHOLD
endless reams of litigation
70,000 INNUENDOS
EACH WORD
CAN BE FOUND IN A FAMOUS POEM
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PHOTOGRAPHS OF FAMILY LIFE
NEAR-CARTOON
MEMBERS OF A GROUP
INFLATED DEFINITIONS
————-daddy——
DADDY ZIGZAGGING
TRYING TO SURVIVE
MOCKING LAUGHTER
THE HARDER HE LABORED
THE SMELL OF BRIMSTONE
DEEPER IN THE MUCK
MOCKING LAUGHTER
THE HARDER HE LABORED
HIS WANG
NO LONGER CASTING A SHADOW
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HALLUCINATORY FANTASIES
GHOSTLY VISITATIONS
PHOTOS OF FAMILY HISTORY
TOUGH-STEMMED BROTHER
YOU THOUGHT OF HIM
AS A BOOTLEGGER
YOU TRIED TO PURCHASE
A SIMPLE APOLOGY
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no apology given
boots left at the door
dinner set at the table
roughage and moonshine
recipes passed down from generation to generation, poachers pockets filled with birds and feathers
– bootleg shack run down rocking chair veranda shotgun security – round them parts family trees mingle – the web toes cousin and the six fingered niece
all fodder for the carnival
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BOOTS MAY BE SOCKS
INTRICACIES OF THE RURAL POOR
MANY ASK FOR A SIMPLE APOLOGY
this journey through the world of squalor
what little of oneself remains
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to be on top of a hierarchy
head-counting at the table
the boys get served first
——-unable to interrupt a swallow
hunger translated
*wait and die suffering
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simple daydreams:
watching television with Edgar Allan Poe
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simple daydreams
beaches and lottery roll overs
tour bus blues
when you say my name
whisper with reverence
I’ve told strangers on the bus about the strange lights at the Curie house – I’ve drawn pictures with pencils, poor attempts to capture a crystalline moment before the abduction –
behind a wall of perfect numbers – in the canteen they discussed cold cases and the perfection of maths –
– she unloaded her brain of unwanted tittle tattle
– Johnny Boy flying through space with a ray gun
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ALL I WANTED TO DO
WAS SOMEHOW PEEL OFF THE MEAT
AND STICK IT BACK ON THE ANIMAL
THE MEAT WANTED TO PULL
ME CLOSER
A TAD APPREHENSIVE
EMBEDDED IN THE MEAT
TINY CHRISTIAN MOUTHS
PRAISING THE LORD
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BRIGHT THREADS
FROM A TAPESTRY OF MEAT
UNREQUITED BLOOD
NEVER CONSUMMATED
HEAVILY BRUISED
FROM THE HONEYMOON
GENITALS LIKE ANGRY PUPPETS
THE GRAVEN IDOLS OF THE PAST
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tapestry trousers
meat mask replica –
discarded album title #4 –
recorded underwater
welts on left hand –
snorkel bubble blues
she played the oboe**
– genitals like spatchcock chicken
– like a champion fighters pummelled profile
** carry on poetry
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I TRIED TO GOOGLE SPATCHCOCK CHICKEN
AND HOMELAND SECURITY
CAME ON THE SCREEN
AND TOLD ME
IN RATHER HARSH WORDS
TO MOVE ON
HOLY MOLY LAD
I SLEEP UNDER THE STAIRS NOW
NOT MUCH ROOM TO DROP
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I WAS KINDA PRAISING THE LORD TODAY
WHEN YOUR PLASTIC SURGEON
CALLED WITH THE BASE FIGURE
FOR THE PROPOSED WORK
HE SAID THAT HE COULDN’T
MAKE YOUR MOVABLE PARTS
MOVE BETTER
BUT THEY WOULD BE MORE PLEASING
TO THE EYE
I WAS THINKING MAY BE
WE COULD CHARGE PEOPLE
TO LOOK AT YOU
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——————–I WAS THINKING MAY BE WE COULD
CHARGE PEOPLE TO LOOK AT YOU——————–
—————–all that man could be—————————
STANDING ON A STACK OF VALENTINES
DISOWNING THOUGHTS OF MARRIAGE
GOTTA PUT A FOOT ON THE BRAKE
TO START THE CAR
HER GIANT BUTT
HAD ITS OWN REALITY SHOW
*take up the needle
sew me into your life
I can fit inside the screen
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HOW MUCH WOULD READERS PAY TO SEE BLOSSOMS ON A DEAD TREE ?
IMAGES OF ASCENSION
IMAGES OF REACENSION
VAGUELY INCESTUOUS THOUGHTS
CONVERSATIONAL POETRY
“outdoors is full of unbearable reality
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hey baby bird
your plastic surgeon called again
all new figures
the staring eye of money
——————————–
the vagina turned inside out
please Lord sanitize
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STANDING ON A STACK OF VALENTINES
DISOWNING THOUGHTS OF MARRIAGE
———————————————————
———————————————————
A LIFE BUILT FROM PAIN
THE WINDOWS MISSING
THE SMELL OF THE BULLS
BLUE-BLACK
CHALK AND CINDERS
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readers would pay a sack of magic beans to see blossoms fall from a dead tree
scented raindrops
gnarled knuckles dragged across the ground – simian gait – throwback to early evolution
ape man with gun
constitutional rights and blind alleyways
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scalpel surgeon does it for the kicks
potato models of before and after
the male doctor ridiculed at school for wanting to study penises
– everything is inside out
– the world is upside down
A thousand nose bleeds a day during the menstrual cycle
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stacks of valentines
self published like the flarf man
desire to be the best next door neighbour a vat of salt waiting to be lent
black bulls behinds barbed wire
feed at a distance
no windows and just the frames to access a view
at angles
of mountains and factories if dead machines
our marriage is based on shifting plates
slow moving icebergs
jazz town melodies where the Otis men cut a rug
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OTIS MEN OFTEN PARALYZED BY SHYNESS
EMBARRASSING SHOWERS
AT THE SHOP
WITH BIG FINGERS LOUIE
AND THE CAVEMAN CLAN
WATCHING THE SUDS
AND BUBBLES
PUBIC COLOR WAS A MINOR COMEDY
SIZE WAS A DIFFERENT HORSE ALTOGETHER
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jazz town melodies—no mention of the dark city
Otis men with their highs and lows
constant challenges
stairwells promoting free exercise
perhaps a stolen kiss or caress
a single toke pipe
traumatic graffiti from Oedipus
anything to stir memories
a hard stick for mother
the taboo of bodily limits
daddy with a gun
to the back
of your head
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gun daddy in cities far flung
from family ties – seed spread like the spray of rampage bullets
stolen kids from stolen lips he keeps in a box
velvet lined like a million dollar coffin
measured miles with magic sticks
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WHAT WOULD STEAL A BABY ?
CHURCH MEMBERS
AUDIENCE MEMBERS
AUTOMATA FASHIONED IN A CUTLERY DEPOT
UNCANNY PEOPLE LIKE ANCIENT GRAVEN IDOLS
SOMETIMES I BECOME MOSES
MAINSTREAM MOSES
AVANT-GARDE MOSES
A SON OF THE LIVING FIRE
READILY IDENTIFIABLE MICHAEL
————————————————
————————————————
SMOKING SMACK
AND METH
FROM PULSBO, WASHINGTON
GOT NO TIME FOR JUVENILIZED
HALLOWEEN LEGAL BUD
BABY SKELETONS PULL UP YOUR DIAPERS
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RESORT TO DRUGS
DISRUPTIVE BEHAVIOR
ADEQUATE MOTEL FACILITIES
ZILLION RULES
PILLS STOLEN OR MISPLACED
SORRY—NEXT MONTH
SECLUSION IS A GOOD THING
HALLUCINATIONS
AND ODD BEHAVIOR INDOORS
WITH FAMILY AND LOVED ONES
NO SCHIZOPHRENIC STUNTS ON TV
NO TOUCHING POLICEMEN
OR POLICE DOGS
OR POLICE CARS
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SECLUSION IS SUGGESTED
————-REQUESTED
———————-EXPECTED
PEOPLE FEAR “FOLLOW-UPS”
PAINFUL CONVERSATIONS
PERPLEXING THEMES
PARTICIPANTS—when did I stop being a
PERSON ?
PSYCHIATRIC POETRY
POCKETBOOK POETRY
PONY AT THE NURSING STATION
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