Your family not travelling with you? No, they just didn’t feel like it this time. Are you staying at the usual place? Yep, the usual. Pretty tacky. Maybe that’s why I like it. I still haven’t been to your place. No. I wrote about it already in one of my poems though. I said youContinue reading “Wongso Lemu”
Category Archives: English
mulk
I want a kind of plain-ness Your faint, pale moustache A cotton shirt Turbaned around your head I want partying And the careful gesticulation of mad-ness
essai du monde
getting up in the freezing cold morning frost on the grass in the backyard at tante ana’s trying to understand macbeth i liked how lady macbeth was fucking hot in the polanski version
nicarahua
reenacting familiar scenes (from a home video) we traced the map of nicaragua to help us trace our possible futures the dead ends taking in all the cold and humiliation we’re on a different plane i’m tracing lines in the sand you’re rebuilding imagination out of vectors
i wasn’t the one who shot down saint-ex, rappelle-moi!
i know what i want now. i want to walk the empty streets of a busy city. early evening, orange light. a greenish river moving upstream. i want to go into a comic books store near closing time. the store will be unattended. piles of acme novelty library vols. 45-75 as high as the sky.Continue reading “i wasn’t the one who shot down saint-ex, rappelle-moi!”
(Your) Cheatin’ Heart
There’s a hole in my Stetson hat My pocket’s got a hole in it Thru which I travel to a cult comics store on Rue Mouffetard In the 6eme arrondisement of my grief Yodel away Hank I won’t recall your jumbo jet From the morning skies of another man’s grief Your silk-screened shoes are toContinue reading “(Your) Cheatin’ Heart”
ou, li po
project oulipo @lolipopsuper: mencoba buat puisi dari kata-kata yang tersedia dalam games scramble (a.k.a boggle), tanpa mengulang kata-kata di tiap puisi. hurufnya yaitu: F I H A W S T M I N E A N Y U R my attempts: NYU near, why mist, rain arrest this winter MUTE YARN hisContinue reading “ou, li po”
the bull ring
insanity no time limit transgressions in the midst of space knockoff champs vintage henleys your miss-conceptions i wonder if in Cape Town nothing is as small as the rain. a KFC bucket Ramadhan insurgence lying on your back the boot of a Holden Kingswood a comet explodes shattering colours your corona
rapport
moms creating an avalanche of expectations childgoodhood in extremis a pond, a lake even, a river flowing upwards no shitbox a whole nation catering to whims roll call multivitamins no energy drinks i want to get us to a savannah a burning star the tip of your shoulder tops.
les arts interrogatifs
giggling from too little non-EU christiania hasish i missed my mark you as i javelined leftover smørrebrød into a green rubbish bin leaned a perfect something degree for the greater comfort of cyclists wrapped in aurora contentment. stockholm was cold but you were colder the picture of health (first world) i heard you accidentally tookContinue reading “les arts interrogatifs”
Divagyrations 