Tiny tits
Square face
Kimono arms
Thick ankles
Large nostrils
Greasy hair
Beauty the likes of which
I will never taste
0150216inred
Odo reading today on Tante Sophie.
Two years of clunking thru Jakarta’s potholed streets (one big one today on Gunawarman otw 2 work).
Thx Tante you’ve been kind 2 me. Sorry I haven’t reciprocated.
Bitch.
L’eau de robinet
(A picture of a dairy cow blown to smithereens, the body parts forming the letter O in mid air. Jagged edge. Cartoon explosion like a spoke wheel.)
A photo of children heads down on water spouts in a park in the 12eme arrondissement.
A Pakistani kid with a water lily razor cut into his buzz cut on the back of his head.
seruni alam nyata
semakin lambat membaca
poèmes choisis of my
oh men
what’s wrong with the literature of developing cunt trees?
terisak dia mendengar berita
jiwanya klimis tanpa pomade
talk less, do me
it’s the dashboard directory of goodies that are the case
whereof you cannot speak
thereof you shan’t speak
who says shan’t nowadays
you wouldn’t my muse
you’re too busy swatting flies
in your berber tent in kandahar
lucky you
fernando pessoa
Mariel
Can u hear the drums Fernando?
They’re buried in the mix and no one can hear em cry
Do u feel at all ashamed Fernando?
The summer’s lost its grass and no one’s complaining
Except u Fernando.
There’s something in the sky at night
And it’s not u Fernando.
Platinum
I think I’ll just have the XOXO I know you love me fried rice
Hasn’t got prawns in it has it
I’m allergic to love
The moon and William
A new ROM for my head
A root every now and then
Thicker skins
For tethering secret lives
your name (every)where
I passed by the beach
At Tago and saw
The snow falling, pure white,
High on the peak of Fuji.
–Yamabe No Akahito (translation by Kenneth Rexroth)
i passed by your Flickr page
at http://www.flickr.com/people/****************/ and saw
your love handles, bulging,
out of your Billabong bikini.
nanophone daze
it’s not like i like writing poetry. it’s not like i can. but what else have i got over you? not even that. you’re more poetic than i’ll ever be. you’ve experienced more of this hell on earth than i. you have visited 110% of the countries in the world! your map is made up of red pins, i can see no signs of oceans or continents. you are funnier than i am. you are lorrie moore incarnate. you stir tom collins in your sleep. you make no pretentious allusion, none that an ak.sa.ra kid can discern. you are the distillation of all my life’s ambitions. you gift-wrap piranha for your dad, you kool thang. i have always wondered from what kind of stable of smart people you come from. you are needless to say, a thoroughbred. i want to breathe alpine air through your arsehole. smell the ganros.
fish & no co.
ill think of you as the one that got away
an umbrella with broken spines
theres plenty of fish n chips in the sea
a new set of braces
a street selling antiques
ill think of you as the one that got away
the comfort of neon
flavoured beer
theres plenty of fish n chips in the sea
snail-like slowness
the necessity of rice cakes
ill think of you as the one that got away
the split on your batik skirt
your cheap mary jane
theres plenty of fish n chips in the sea
the end product of rushing
a newfound need for believing
ill think of you as the one that got away
theres plenty of fish n chips in the sea
Divagyrations 