“High School Drag”
Written by Mel Welles / Performed by Phillipa Fallon in “High School Confidential”My old man was a bread-stasher all his life.
He never got fat. He wound up with a used car,
a 17 inch screen and arthritis.Tomorrow is a drag, man.
Tomorrow is a king sized bust. *snap*They cried ‘put down pot,’ ‘don’t think a lot,’ for what?
Time, how much? And what to do with it.Sleep, man, and you might wake up digging the whole
human race giving itself three days to get out.Tomorrow is a drag, pops, the future is a flake. *snap*
I had a canary who couldn’t sing.
I had a cat who let me share my pad with her.
I bought a dog that killed the cat that ate the canary.
What is truth? *snap*I had an uncle with an ivy league card.
He had life with a belt in the back.
He had a button-down brain.
Wind up a belt in the mouth and a button-down lip. *snap*We cough blood on this earth.
Now there’s a race for space.
We can cough blood on the moon soon.Tomorrow is dragsville, cats.
Tomorrow is a king size drag. *snap*Tool a fast shore, swing with a gassy chick.
Turn on to a thousand joys.
Smile on what happened, or check what’s gonna happen,
You’ll miss what’s happening.
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum.Tomorrow, DRRRRAAAAAG. *snap*
I'm Not Really Here
This is not a Tumblr.
Posts tagged poetry
deep and wide as snowfields,
covering everything, drawing the trees, the stars,
the deer and the tall cities around us.
It is too much
for them to bear, and we
who demand such close knowing
we approach the atom
to explain the mountain. Already we see
the gods taking flight like a cloud of swallows,
their homes which are horses, and fish, and fish-
hooks becoming hard and pale as jewels
in our embrace. At the black edge
of the world two or three flowers are tossing
in the approaching blizzard of our words.
We cannot hear them singing
above our exquisite howl.” “At the Black Edge,” Ger Killeen
in the blizzard of my ten thousand lives,
I am again briefly
the Moloch of blind fish, sing again
briefly the pterodactyl’s jubilas
to the sun, am sacrificed
again briefly for the dog’s kingdom…
Dark night of my heart, I scream
in recollection of comfortless origins,
suffer for the arrogance
of my entropy. God protect me
from sins of stasis, keep me
in the movement that fixes me” “Evolution Prayer,” Ger Killeen
#npm: 3/30 What will it take
When we say, “What a coincidence!”
with hardly any awe, I’ve started to think
of what we’re wasting. We’re forgetting
the odds of what it took to make this
happen. It seems we could be
anywhere with anyone but
coincidentally
we are together.…
Poetry from Ms West.
“Let everything happen to you
Beauty and terror
Just keep going
No feeling is final”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
This is probably my favorite of @KatieWest’s work, in a while. And that’s saying a lot, because I love this woman’s work.
“We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
This is fucking wonderful. Also? So much Rilke, lately.
Catastrophe Jones
My copy of Catastrophe Jones’ poetry/story collection, Catastrophe Jones: A Collection of Forgotten Dreams showed up, today.
She was willing and able to sign and personalise it, for me, and I told her to surprise me with the inscription.
She did.
Folks, you need to buy this damn book. Seriously.
Back to reading.
