Mutant City Acid

Wikipedia Poem, No. 890

you can own
the concordant sickness
it’s way
into yr heart

i’m here

everything i
thought was funny when i was
the enemy

mutant city acid:
damp hedges a church
the modest hours
that guide
the modest hours that would be lost
if not for a drug
conviction i served seven years for
i served this
country i’ve done my time i’ve done my time and time
time and time again
i’ve made
some mistakes but thank
god the smell of wood smoke

i cast the enemy

mutant city acid:
hedges a church
reduced figure
ground relationship
frustration casts
a rat’s scurry

Artifacts of Reference, No. 34

Oct. 2017

Tomorrow is my birthday. If anyone is in the meatpacking district and wants to eat hella pizza and drink reasonably priced cocktails HMU. Please share this and let everyone know what a terrible poet I am. You can be anything you want.

isn’t it enough to be bloody neon

Contains lines from Heather Christle’s “Beset By A Disk Of Radiating Feathers”

beset beach
feeding on mice and small birds fern owl
northern unreality waterboro of beget doctor
penguin sonnets for stallings only

the owl was a bakers daughter well-known
touched recent comely assassin
about it being easy it’s pretty hard it’s as hard as allen
baltimore house party
by its doleful hoot what does the owl’s egg
children or perhaps you down-
ing goodbye but rather makes the goodbye

horned owl how can i get one a lady
‘s touch suggesting some mal act of consideration
question then you’ve fucked up i take back what i said
from officials and guns — 
the night long-tufted or mottle-tufted
and the bill unleashed a torrent of timely
stuff after that leave directly that’s all
to an individual till transformation by
the owlishness of certain people
so coupled married beach stop smoking
barn own crossing the air over the road

Dear Poets—

Wikipedia Poem, No. 870

saskatchewan, i have—by a mile—the heat of whirlwind
this whirlwind of what i know… after-time

gotta study and get on with all the whirlwind heat
this whirlwind of preparing for the heat of the best poems

published in saskatchewan o well and study video games
i have—by a meteor mile—the heat of this to do list: quit my hand

i briefly felt like a wonderful person
i really should be studying and felt wonderful

now that will hold my hand and
live in reputable american journals

i really fucked my to-do: quit my poet
i am a very secretly a fearful person

i am very more tame
when i stopped drinking i published

you know… no time gotta study it
i really should study for the heavy escape

no time gotta study for the best poet
i am very secretly fucked

my illusion felt wonderful
i really fucked me: quit my poet

i really should study for law school
i’m so scared — salty poet

i don’t want to step out of this
whirlwind of preparing and feel wonderful

now that i know i need to escape myself —
this radical being — in smoke