Joseph M. Gerace
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lenny bruce tattoo [draft]
there’s something to be written about self-awareness _____ i was smiling there on the coffee shop couch convincing _____ arm slung — casually, so casually, completely casually _____ — casually over the back of the second hand couch and sun gliding _____ across your skin — pepper bright i can’t blame anyone but myself _____ this is a good idea,…
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"L’angelo del povero" [by Giuseppe Ungaretti]
L’angelo del povero Ora che invade le oscurate mentiPiú aspra pietá del sangue e della terra,Ora che ci misura ad ogni palpitoIl silenzio di tante ingiuste morti, Ora si svegli l’angelo del povero,Gentilezza superstite della’anima… Col gesto inestinguibile dei secoliDiscenda a capo del suo vecchio popolo,In mezzo alle ombre… _______________ The poor man’s angel Now…
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sense memory no. 1
suddenly the sweetness of some fruit i can’t recall. memory’s mouth models peanut butter, avocado spread thin onto toasted brown bread and the saccharine spear implacable causes me to heave, breathe heavily in hopes of dislodging a pneumonic of seeds split and juice spit — an unmistakeable missing [for Matthew Rohrer, 062120121546]
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a companion to ’44. palmate antlers’
their horns clash and felted dung flung off in a chunk a forgotten sacrament spills into soil. [for 44. palmate antlers by adam clemente]
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"Change the habit & you change the man." [draft]
they’re back onthe lightsand i want to speak to youabout the bathroom doorwithout mentioning the bathroombut between usyou & mei’m thinking about buying a new TVmaybe twoStone Johnson fadesStop thinking about it; you’ve paid your billsI’ve had my fillwaking upEverything are you hungry?Ballers & Poets sweat in different waysso… make your own connectionsI won’t do…
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death & a sweet
balancing youthagainst youth as the thing heatsgrinding his flintsinew tall & incisor lean lapping now, she’s a burnerdeath & a sweetoxidizing dreamcream ballistic, stop and frisk a billystick he bandies with a fecund brickpassing from hand to handdarkening venus’s thong — drinking whatever slipsfrom her lips.
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the wire; s1e1 — test
Check the filesperfect round & redto pink to neon-blueirrelevant but realyou can’t bring back the deadnone can force you to court. Friday night in the alleytoo much information, photographedand cataloged in America. Blackfingerprints pressedsignificantly into bulletproof glass.
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untitled 05092012
the appearance of constant movement (merely)that spotted spider crawling in the cleavage between the floorboardstires peel along wet road — an imperfect chill — fleshing dimensionsthe body, young and unaffected by liquor, fucks betterin tight-roped moments before the roof is ripped into orbit.
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Breathless and Sweaty Here on the Sidelines
Adam, is this a printing error? Had McSweeney’s beard-wild intern left notes in the galley? A literary rabbit? A muzzle flash? A clue; smoky fingerprints — whose? — left marginal? An entropy? Oh, I see!This affect-italicized ho-hum — pop, pop, pop Playing volleyball with her quote.
wikipoem.org 