that scene in Papillon

primitive WiFi slows down connection to a crawl

dropped out midway through conversations about obsolete technology

people in a group all talking about what they’ve seen on the internet

kid falling over

dogs dressed as ninjas

Hitler cats

Beef-burger garnishes

there was nothing of substance there was nowt that was real

that scene in Papillon when the screen turns upside down and he says YOU HAVE BEEN ACCUSED OF A WASTED LIFE scared the shit out of me

in time the spaceman will discover the monolith

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118 comments

  1. multiplemichael

    the janitor at the library
    (the things no one will share with him)
    nothing could fill his emptiness
    and yet, he purchases Nudist magazines
    simple people with a plenitude of skin
    flesh suits trimmed with hair
    (+) why not look at yourself and save the funds ?

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the janitor at the library wanted to be a baby
      naked and suckling on a breast
      – but he just swept floors and emptied bins
      – he looked at people in clothes and imagined them naked the larger the person
      the greater shadow

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        there was a huge discount
        on Nudist magazines
        people from 50 miles away
        were crazed
        and showed up
        with cash in hand
        NO CREATIVE SURPRISES
        it was bathing suit areas
        chestnuts and plumbing
        old people sitting on towels
        youngsters frolicking
        what more could one ask ?

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        thumbing through nudist magazine (23/4/85)
        the young coffee counter girl
        baby naked
        backdrop of familiar scenes
        a beach full retired bankers
        a shark off shore

        (I give this comment 3* out of 5)

        Like

  2. multiplemichael

    poetry about prolonged emptiness
    the smell of an old vacuum cleaner
    with a homemade wand
    themes of sex
    Nudist magazines
    understanding among adolescent friends
    the sounds and sights of cheerleaders
    the silken hair and fancy underpants

    Like

  3. multiplemichael

    today in workshop
    we wrote about smelling the man
    in the boy
    sort of creepy
    I thought about Halloween
    and candy-kernel teeth
    insects exploring us
    as we slept
    my goofy friend
    with his pre-puberty
    tarantula hair

    Liked by 1 person

  4. multiplemichael

    someone knocked on the door
    wanting to tell me
    that light was coming from sources
    that no longer exist
    I pondered how that information
    could become a resource
    that would work for me
    (+) people claim that enjoyment lingers
    (+) my uncle sold daggers for half-price
    and then bought them back for far less

    Liked by 1 person

    • eatmorewords

      they knocked at my door and tried to tell me I could be saved
      -they showed me a comic book
      and asked me to read
      – they had a look in their eye
      they implied they knew the truth
      the dirt on their shoes wasn’t from here
      they must’ve walked miles

      they then showed me a catalogue of daggers that could be bought for 12 monthly instalments

      Like

  5. multiplemichael

    Abraham Lincoln with a pink shiny head
    a Christian with no one to do the clip
    Mary Todd said that it was an abomination
    old fashion birth control—slipping in brown
    a lot of guesswork, where it all goes
    spectator seed saying, “no, no, no”
    (+) Abe busy in the rear while she
    was strangling her clitoris —–the damn thing
    wouldn’t die

    Like

  6. multiplemichael

    I was told to mention her clitoris
    her rambunctious clitoris
    Mary Todd Lincoln
    “had a good grip on the thing”
    in the affairs of love
    even the normal
    can be abnormal
    Abe back there busy

    Like

  7. multiplemichael

    helpless in the library
    no where to hang on
    the Illustrated Clitoris
    ripping away pretensions
    innocent souls on the hormones
    swaying hair, head to toe
    Good Lord, that has nothing
    to do with being a male
    pain and regret and gravity
    all those things said and done
    (+) the baby out the window

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the Christian clitoris looked like raw liver in the butchers window
      lots of people would look
      but no one would touch
      the butcher knew this would change when the rationing came
      and when the curfew came and the lights went out
      the people in the library put the books back on the wrong shelf

      everyone had hormones
      but some were defective

      ( the hair grew inwards)

      Like

  8. multiplemichael

    no braking mechanism needed:

    places nobody
    would want to go
    where music sucks
    I get a large amount of material from there
    they smile and say “take care of my treasure”
    it is never in code or written during a dream state
    warm-faced and crap
    thoughtful eyes ripped from a vulture
    all I ask, make your words into cloaks for authentic life

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the flarf man fell into his own cut up machine exited a changed man
      voice pitched a little higher
      when he spoke the dogs came running
      in the future there still will be poetry
      but it will coded or binary
      all the ones and zeroes

      Like

  9. eatmorewords

    I recorded the poetry
    and just played it on a loop
    lazy poet
    lazy poet
    with no pens

    some people think why aren’t dinosaurs in the bible?
    why weren’t they on the ark?

    Like

  10. eatmorewords

    the marriage of pills and liquor
    pushed away from food and rest
    – there is not enough space for both
    – you are a vessel
    there is a limit to what can be put inside

    the cannibals wait by the side of the road
    they wait for the babies

    Like

  11. multiplemichael

    smoking medical stems and seeds
    a bad sinus thing
    bath salt rust

    paying the phone company
    to keep a working payphone
    across the street

    one day, you’ll pull over
    to make a call
    and I’ll cross over
    and introduce myself

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the last pay phone in town
      was declared an
      OBJECT OF HISTORICAL IMPORTANCE
      a line of tourist snaked around the block to take photos
      inside the body of the phone
      dead coins and beer caps

      I’d introduce myself with a hardy handshake and a business card

      Like

  12. multiplemichael

    the depth of difficulties
    Nudist magazines under the couch
    next to the shoe box lid full of stems and seeds
    next to the loaded gun ready to go
    ———————you refused to read the eulogy
    scribbled notes, a total lie
    no hints of tranquilizers
    or meth
    would there be mention of the coffee counter girl ?
    the motorcycle gang with baby heads on chains ?
    suitcases of experimental narrative
    bright yellow-orange angel dust
    fragile abuse, fear of taking a shower

    all those prayers
    for a productive environment
    a safe zone
    artistic development
    free of impending
    reality mechanics

    free of a poetry workshop
    where poets set up a situation
    and then color in the blanks
    with a network of associations

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      all the nudist books
      well thumbed and serving many functions
      bought years ago for different purposes
      from different shops
      and hidden inside encyclopaedias

      ( in years to come they would find them in drawers mixed in with instructions manuals for washing machines and fridges)

      the best gun
      is an empty on

      oh, to be in Shangri La

      kidnapped and a ransom of words paid in second hand poems

      Like

    • eatmorewords

      isn’t this a life of fiction?
      leviathan isn’t real
      the coffee counter girls isn’t real (a facsimile of a hundred of our collective memories)
      dark town is a fiction of jazz music and needles
      I left a path
      of pharmaceutical pills and sugar cubes

      Like

  13. multiplemichael

    WE DO THINGS THE WAY
    THAT YOU WANT THEM DONE
    a complex situation easily turned into homicide
    please sniff the end of the barrel
    as I pull the trigger
    ———(the detective)———
    the blood soaked pillow
    was like a tampon on a heavy day
    it wasn’t suicide or an accident
    the mechanical apparatus
    the bang-bang, so-to-speak
    was missing

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      barrel of gun
      cordite taste
      you can’t buy guns online but if you buy a 10 bullets they will give you a gun as a free gift

      there are ways around everything

      the mechanical apparatus inside is beginning to rust

      Like

  14. eatmorewords

    the astronomers discovered a new planet
    initially they though it was a shadow
    they called it 007 RFROST
    – the James Bond appreciation society held a party
    the men pestered the woman while pointing at the sky

    Like

  15. multiplemichael

    pull out the innocents and the numb nuts
    and Lordy you have the real poets
    the guys who put the gusto in SHIT OUT OF LUCK
    (+) she told the police that she threw the baby out of the window
    because of self-preservation—her personal self
    the shivering corridors of the jail house
    I found it difficult to be myself

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      on the same night you call love
      from its hiding spot
      ———-the ordinary doll-baby
      loaded with loneliness
      opposing rhythms
      fumbles
      with
      emotional
      issues

      fatigued watching you be you
      me being me

      (+) we come from the newspaper comic strips

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        you wrote letters to unknown people
        commemorative stamps of dead Hollywood stars and murder victims stuck on with spit
        – – comic strip lives lived in little boxes —

        I have no superpowers
        I have no skills

        Like

    • multiplemichael

      the shivering corridors of your personal jail
      a fist with fingers———a sanctuary
      floating around I enjoyed your symphony
      masturbation as baptism

      the afterthoughts
      each time we connect

      Like

  16. multiplemichael

    you were secretly writing prose
    for a vertical audience
    where the hell did you get that shit ?
    vertical audience
    a gripping poop of carbon copies
    the same words
    utterly routine
    —————————she loved to browse in bookstores
    she saw herself masturbating in front of a younger man
    eight minute jabs

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      everybody upset at me:

      I confused
      eight minute jabs
      with eight inch jabs

      big knives make sharp distinctions
      distinctions not circumscribed by the past
      (+) first time, last time, knots left over from puberty

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        the nasty man said your children were his
        – traded them for trinkets and guns
        baubles and gems
        – the cages weren’t gilded
        they washed in the cities aqueducts

        Like

  17. multiplemichael

    I know that it makes you blow snot
    to think of her that way
    insight (a life of inspired revision)
    her nasty finger work was provoked
    by a head covered in thick vibrant hair
    young man hair (ROYAL AND MANLY)

    wet with enunciation
    (+) intellectually displaced
    (+) sexually displaced

    Like

    • multiplemichael

      testing and discarding ideas
      too young to understand
      the dangers of seed exchange
      a venom with no simple antidote
      THE-SPIN-THE-BOTTLE-GOD
      SAID, “NO SPECTATORS, ALL MUST PARTICIPATE”
      no spectators, all must participate

      Michael Mockery———self-mockery
      faithful to suffering

      Like

  18. multiplemichael

    ——APPLES OF SODOM——
    fruit without a colon

    you found it impossible to pronounce
    the names of angels
    they laughed when you asked them
    why they slept in a mortuary
    (+) serious dude, as if angels sleep

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      apples used to stop sodom
      inserted
      entrance / exit blocked
      – you could just see the stalk poking out
      attached to the core
      your knee the angels didn’t have named
      they had numbers

      Like

  19. multiplemichael

    your poor mother
    a hour of Hell
    you were a half hour
    he was a half hour
    your father running around the building
    screaming, “it’s all over now”

    SIGNATURES OF THE ACT

    race ahead and there’s too many sinful letters
    in your name to fit on the tombstone
    ——-what was it that motivated your behavior ?
    all those narrative voices
    scenes of suffering
    hungry Satan sleeping
    in your ears

    the doctor labeled it
    a “naïve reality-hunger”
    your wife and friends
    thought otherwise
    ****home educated pathologists
    more than willing to open you up

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      happy hour in hell
      two for the price of one
      alcoholic father barred for two years
      mother with her side man
      in disguise
      ventriloquists stealing voices

      if you look up your ailments online you’d think your dying

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        what is a birthday without the rickety ladder ?

        climbing to the top
        subduing the tempestuous
        half-strangled by strong hand
        that silly vertical smile, geographical

        lovers may escape Sodom
        but wild horses
        couldn’t drag
        me away

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        setting your alarm
        to the exact time you were born
        so waking up becomes an attempt to recreate the moment of birth
        – splinters at the top of the ladder but the view is beautiful

        ending the obituary with rolling stone lyrics*

        (*jagger paid royalties for the next 100years)

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        Jagger wore two pairs of trousers
        a physical pair for his body
        a stove-pipe-out-the-window
        for his ego

        at night he could hear antibodies
        snorkeling inside his canals

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the “phantom trouser”
        written about in Freud’s margins – rarely studied but even rarer to be seen
        a film crew was sent to study Jagger
        small men stood on stove pipe hats to get a better view

        someone over heard him say it was cathartic pissing off a bridge into a flowing river

        Like

  20. multiplemichael

    at night, the wife stands outside
    with a flashlight focused
    on a rickety ladder

    you are the circus star (the tightrope walking groom)

    at first she was afraid that you would revert to homosexuality
    that you would stumble and sever her connection with reproduction

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the vasectomy ceased the bloodline THERE WOULD BE NO MORE
      it went limp
      life was drained of colour
      there was still a connection
      but something was missing
      there was no god
      there was no shadow

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        in the backwoods
        the local doctor
        refuses to perform
        a vasectomy
        God has no nose for a vasectomy
        test subjects always come up bald
        or balding with urine stains
        Vasectomy—a snip loud with anger
        the gamut of madness
        trying to jerk out a single seed
        an anonymous being
        no doubt a pessimist

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        in the backwoods the local doctor was also the local priest
        and the librarian
        and the receptionist at the hotel
        – he knew their secrets and had held their meat
        – empty seed fired and danger free

        when I had my vasectomy my children asked did I ejaculate dust

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        not every night
        but often
        the wife standing outside
        pointing the flashlight
        at a rickety ladder
        “I could have had my choice
        of any Crocodile man and I
        chose a poet”
        (+) a life of last-minute deletions

        Like

  21. multiplemichael

    Sunday morning in church
    blank faces
    cringing hindquarters
    ———-sex on page one
    the touch of Death later on

    overpowering loneliness
    the rose of happiness has faded away
    controlling instincts have collapsed
    half-welcoming violence
    exaggerated love-hate

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      Sunday morning at the church
      you will soon sleep
      then dream
      of damnation
      of large crowds jostling in shopping malls at the far reaches of town
      money in the collection tray
      unaccounted for expenses
      walking hand in hand with Satan
      walking till your knee deep in baptism water

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        SUNDAY MORNING AT THE CHURCH
        your girlfriend was quoted,
        “give Polly a cracker”

        Saturday night
        numerous wives standing outside in the dark
        flashlight beams pointed at rickety ladders

        footprints that enter Dark Town
        are not the same as those that exit
        (+) symbolic unbinding was common

        Like

  22. multiplemichael

    it got so BIG that people questioned if it was holy

    did other men embrace him ?
    ———(the question of equal footing)———
    the lobby full of jokes, puns, odd laughter
    he would pray to Father that they would be finalized

    Like

  23. multiplemichael

    people were too busy to consider
    the branching evolution
    of their sex drives
    —————————narrowly focused health issues
    the many-layered posters from the honeymoon
    torn down and made into collages
    smuggled into Mexico
    sold “as is”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      on holiday you forget yourself
      walk around bare chest
      in wet clothes
      in the sea where fish piss
      washed over by waves
      all those woman with tiny waists
      all those woman like whales walking
      strange currency
      burning in the sun and all you can think is DID I LEAVE THE GAS ON?

      no poetic thoughts
      just worry

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        on holiday
        pre-hippy males in spontaneous wrestling matches
        greased up in an anguished form of wormlike motion

        it really wasn’t fornication
        just episodes of semen flow
        forgotten without signature

        Like

  24. multiplemichael

    the bottom line:
    to employ me at the lowest price possible

    new people arrive with baggage
    what will they leave behind
    when they slip-away ?

    new people in the break room
    counting rosaries
    mental images of Jesus
    in swaddling clothes

    the true value of a can opener

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      all that baggage
      all those bags
      leave it at the door
      the porter will be down to collect it
      the doctor will be along shortly to record it
      the psychologist will be around later to analysis it
      while all the time
      your worth fluctuates
      like the Dow Jones

      a tin opener is priceless if you want to open a tin

      function and form
      image or substance?

      clown trousers visible from the moon

      Like

  25. multiplemichael

    it is difficult to find intelligent people
    who will discuss the lack of nudity
    in nudist magazines
    genitalia fuzzed out

    the female breasts
    seem to be of upmost interest
    almost as if they were additional eyes

    “look at me and then we will love”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      it’s difficult to find intelligent people
      a back pedalling president
      speaking like your favourite flarf poet
      with a vocabulary of less than 50 words
      all cut up and misplaced
      double speak
      but he will discuss nudity
      grabbing ‘em by the pussy while making pee-pee in Russian beds

      Like

  26. multiplemichael

    what does one read on holiday ?

    words that shatter comfortable illusions
    words that behave like spotted leopards
    traces of past events
    insincere jabs
    in an affectionate way

    prayers to protect one
    from diseased confetti

    Like

      • multiplemichael

        it wasn’t words being smuggled
        it was pork
        pork not subject to gravity
        the meat that finds expression
        on wing
        toenails like Satan
        an inner monologue
        of hunger

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        I wish there was better ending to this joke
        to this sentence and the next line that fades
        and falls
        like the sound that vanished as the ambulance rushes by

        EVERYTHINGS FINE

        the faint laughter carried across the bay
        to the prison recreation yard
        this current will drown you or bring you home

        Like

      • multiplemichael

        (+) for the benefit of a passively-observing reader

        relatives who can no longer fly
        feathers plucked
        dancers and acrobats
        taken to the ovens
        cutlery in liquid form
        thugs and murders
        for plates

        Like

  27. multiplemichael

    on holiday, you shared strong opinions
    about what is lost in contemporary poetry

    you called yourself “The Last Saxophonist”
    the spherical poet who refused to cast a round shadow

    everything sounded like it was from a foreign movie
    simple words in dungarees purchased in Paris

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      on holiday I was a different person
      the passport picture was taken years ago
      I was smaller then
      the locals wanted me to tell them about things from back home
      I lied and made my life sound like a movie
      I hummed a theme tune
      it was my gift to them

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        the crumbling contemporary hotel lobby
        hard-won escape from romance
        (+) she was upstairs pulling hairs from her chin

        Russian wives filling out postcards
        “our room is very barn-like”
        the straw bales, the woodchips

        the lobby poet asking us not to judge
        but to witness the interplay
        of pain and joy

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        the hotel lobby is where the ghosts of old guests congregate
        certain rooms hold memories of sex and death
        in one room ice cubes don’t melt

        they swept up all the hairs from all the floors and made a rug

        Like

    • eatmorewords

      the round poet rolled outta town
      rotund man with an irregular heart beat
      losing hair daily
      words fading a disappearing cloud
      dinosaur bones found in peculiar places (the side of the road
      room 231 at the local hotel)

      Like

      • multiplemichael

        dinosaur bones with irritation under the foreskin

        a sexual athlete with a mighty trumpet
        head fur so thick and healthy
        that God once counted
        each individual hair

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        dinosaur foreskin pro active roofs for inventive cavemen
        protection from the elements
        fur beds
        disease rife in infected areas
        deviated by the inability to talk

        Like

  28. multiplemichael

    they started
    smoking the linoleum
    from the filthy kitchen floor
    it produced a mild scatological high
    the business of living reduced to the simplicities
    (+) the need for a drug peddler went out the window

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      under the fridge the linoleum was pristine
      untouched
      no dark marks
      no outlines like murder scene tape
      inside the washing machine
      all the secret mingled with a thousand odd socks

      Like

  29. multiplemichael

    she was an older lady
    oak paneling and silver epergnes perhaps
    yellow striped beach wear for undergarments
    she said that she was queer and no one argued
    musty, dusty, tasseled, and fringed with horse hair

    Like

  30. multiplemichael

    the elevator floor
    covered with
    empty meat wraps
    from the souvenir shop
    QUICK, a towel under the butt
    Russian pistons ready to explore
    (+) the sound of engines behind closed doors
    1. tantalize 2. stimulate

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the elevator had two buttons
      UP
      DOWN
      nothing in between
      no confidence when limply presses the UP button
      you knew gravity and mechanics wouldn’t let you down
      the Cyrillic words looked alien to you

      Like

  31. multiplemichael

    the elevator floor
    covered with empty condom wrappers
    countless corduroy trousers
    and small black dresses
    a Saturday night was good for a dozen shoes
    it was a dirty little elevator
    a bulls-eye for transgresses
    norms of behavior behind numbered doors
    irritation and discomfort
    existence outlined
    with heavy strokes

    (+) when I knocked on the door, you said, “I’m tidying up”

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      the original corduroy condoms casted discomfort
      a slight burn
      like the embarrassing discomfort you feel when the detectives questions you
      – micro expressions give the game away
      – better to be frozen in ice

      Like

    • multiplemichael

      norms of behavior behind numbered doors
      the HIM door, the YOU door
      the topside world daily dropping hair
      constant instructions that you ignore

      you will be called upon to account
      cry-baby amnesia is no excuse

      Like

      • eatmorewords

        it was a TV show
        WHATS BEHIND THE DOOR?
        all your old memories and a bag of hair
        audience drugged and clapping
        mementos of forgotten hours
        they will deploy a thousand detectives to trace the trajectory

        Like

  32. multiplemichael

    soiled underwear from cycles of crime
    all the sins of the world bearing down
    nicknames floating in the bowel

    words beneath perfumes or powders
    words beneath silk and velvet

    fluctuating identities
    the mirror angry with its reflections
    the damn thing was a real creaking mattress

    honeymoon mistletoe
    acquaintances
    and readers wanting sex
    to recreate the exchange of feelings

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      some many nicknames
      the true identity was lost
      and ground zero shifted
      it’s geographical location
      – when you answered the phone you didn’t know who you were
      – “Is Micheal there?”
      – “Maybe”, you said

      you looked through he your list of acquaintances and realised you couldn’t put faces to name

      the springs in the bed would’t budge

      Like

  33. multiplemichael

    a sign above the pool hall:
    SOME THINGS ARE GOD’S BUSINESS

    some things must be accepted as being out of reach
    hopefully, it wasn’t you running around at night
    with a fiery skull on a stick
    as a poet, you have learned to differentiate
    to separate thought from feelings

    next time around—-stay clear of the female pelvis

    Like

  34. multiplemichael

    conversational poetry
    diary entries or drafts
    day-to-day intensified
    the ability to record difficult material
    the ability to tolerate the lesser
    the constant suicide attempts
    hiding and reading Robert Frost
    daydreams of being validated
    of being released from the Poetry Hospital
    hospitalizations
    sodomy as therapy
    awakening from drugs
    people proud of their education
    college after college
    and it was dung on the dong
    it was a part of growing up
    a bruise on the ego

    unsigned conversational poetry
    diary entries under hypnosis
    very little protection
    from the staff

    sodium pentothal
    and sodomy

    Like

    • eatmorewords

      conversational poetry between yourself and you
      an echo chamber
      reassures you your thoughts are correct
      the knife of doubt is now blunt
      the man didn’t have a car so he threw the baby from the hotel window
      the bruise looked like a new continent
      the drug haze wore off the world looked shiny like a new coin
      that was devalued

      Like

    • eatmorewords

      they knocked and you looked through the fisheye
      their heads looked large
      fleshy balloons
      your name had appeared on a list
      you couldn’t hide behind the sofa
      you didn’t have a sofa

      Like

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