Wednesday, January 7, 2009

2008 Notebook Poems

That's violence.
I'm a monger.
I want to eat your feelings.
I will eat your feelings.


Dear poem,

I'm still working on you
working on you is like
spitting into a dixie cup
hoping to fill it to the brim
at which point I will

a) drink
b )throw in a face (no)
c) set down
d) give
e) set down and forget about
f) spill
g) look, peer, stare, gaze into

viscous and bubble filled
nice to look at but next to
impossible to consume.


Fuck You Dicksuck

Oh, for crying in the gutter.
Get your face off my face and lick your own
the gash rash you've been trotting around
lacks a certain je ne sais quoi


Chiding whiplash of the ill-advised
step away, step away, step off
having no business being-doing means
cower again though you just newly showed yourself
turn heels and flip a bitch
back to the sandbox with you, scoundrels!
You were never made for this kind of
breast reduction-heart reduction surgery
flash floods

love a wonky eye
can't help but do


I'm the biggest human ever!
I am tiny, tiny small.
I am nothing worth being!
Look! I am nothing at all!
Oh! I've got hands for my eyes
and eyes for my hands!
I'm looking and I'm touching
I'm broken. Yes!
Busted from the start


-I'm mad at you.
-So you know.
-So, what?
-So, okay.


"giving off dye" bleeding out
"the hand of the fabric"
a scream to rattle your bones by
I'm upset (now) that you're upset
I don't like it when you hurt yourself
because I don't like it when people I like
get hurt.


to the castle and rest
rest at the castle and drink
butter lips at the castle
greased fish and squeezed lemon
at the castle come lately
come early, come often
stack tunes on old minstrels
and sway and sway and swoon
in the castle, dance slowly
try hard not to nod out
it's time for the two-step
it's time for a song


screwball comedy at sutro baths
done busted out the sutures
that keep sides from splitting

slid down the slippery slope 
of Victorian propriety
gone splish splash with your fellow
man, woman and child

shared the water
made water in the water
and bellied up till sea came in
to take out the structures

and work us all in suits and caps
against the rocks bleeding us outright



Stan Apps said...

Wow. Lots to like. . . I think I'm most into the "Dear poem," one but also "to the castle and rest" and the biggest human ever one (cause it's such a nice dickinson thing), or maybe they're all just one poem? anyway, it's all very pleasing just like that.

Ridiculous Human Things said...

Thankee, Stan. I just got home from rehearsing your play. It's going to be wicked hecks of bitching, I think.

1 said...

it's really good shit Lindsey.
I love your brand of talk.

But O
life is weird.
take us back to Manor Drive!

Ridiculous Human Things said...

Honestly, Jess, I don't want to go back to Manor Drive. Bah. Unless you're referencing the "welcome to the dojo" conversation, in which case, yeah, let's go. That place is all kinds of cathected.

1 said...

I know it, I regretted it the minute I said it.
But I was indeed referencing the "Welcome to the Dojo" conversation.
I'd like to revisit that.
You were like 9 years old.
Ben Milner was drinking a 40oz.
I was wearing a beret.
It had not a thing to do with San Francisco.
Sounds wonderful from here.

K. Lorraine Graham said...

You've got some amazing crazy energy in these poems! I agree with Stan about "I'm the biggest human ever!" I also especially like "I'm mad at you"--It's very precise.

Maxwell said...

This is classic Lindsey material! Yes, the cup-of-poem part rubs me right good; but maybe that's just because it's so meta and we're only allowed to like things that are meta now. The rest is direct——yet not *sincere* in the pejorative sense. keep spitting.