‘buka g-stringmu aisyah, calon suamimu berhak tahu rupa labiamu,’ etc

Waktu adalah twhirl, cintaku, dan spaz adalah gaung   

Waktu adalah mesin hitung, cintaku, dan kalkulator adalah raung

Waktu adalah mesin hitung, cintaku, dan kalkulator adalah ruang

Saya Cemaskan Sepotong Lumpur, Rodin, aidez-moi!

Variasi untuk Sebuah Lagu pada Kaset Greatest Hits Duran-Duran-ku

Di Kota Itu, Kata Orang, Gerimis Telah Jadi Logam, Masa Sih?

Ia Meminum Kopinya, dan Meletakkan Telapak Tangannya, Goddamn! Thats Hot!  

Barangkali Telah Kuseka Namamu, Tulis Lagi Dong Pake Snowman Permanent Marker

Di Beranda Ini Angin Tak Kedengaran Lagi, Ya Lepas Dong Headphones-mu Oom!

Dari Jendela Bar Saya Lihat Hujan Ikut Hingar, Menari Nari Diiringi Interpol dan GWAR

Misalkan Kita di Sarajevo, Lo Aja Gih Sana

*membutakan babi dengan bantuan twitter, twhirl, lg kg300 (agnes monica je t’aime !), dan tuhan

seorang teman menasihati sebaiknya aku berhenti minum-minum*

mei yao ch’en

waktu aku muda aku suka sekali minum
anggur. tak ada yang mengeluh aku suka
mabuk-mabukan. sekarang aku sudah tua,
gigiku, rambutku tinggal beberapa biji saja.
aku tetap senang minum-minum, tapi
tak mampu lagi sesering dulu. sekarang
setiap kali minum, perutku sakit. terus
apa gunanya. sekarang begitu aku
mabuk, kepalaku langsung jatuh tertunduk.
tembok berkeliling berputar-putar. aku ingin
senang-senang, tapi akhirnya hanya jatuh sakit. bukan
beginilah caranya merawat kesehatan. mungkin
sebaiknya aku berhenti minum sama sekali. aku
takut orang akan tertawa mendengar aku bertekad
begitu. tetap saja kau bilang ya, ayo lakukan, kau
pasti bisa. sama sekali tak ada yang bisa dinikmati
dari lambung yang terasa asam, dan mulut yang bau.
aku tahu aku harus berhenti minum-minum sekarang. kalau
tidak sekarang, entah apa yang akan terjadi pada diriku

*diperkosa oleh mikael johani dari versi ken rexroth (cie, sok akrab), ‘a friend advises me to stop drinking’, di one hundred poems from the chinese, new directions, 1971, hlm. 48.

white heart lane

its nice now i havent got someone to get really angry with

not having to rack my brain thinking obsessing why did she do that why did she say that why did she

cos theres no she

no more

its nice now im not angry all the time

my mind is clear

like the idea of air

i love people

friends, families, humanity almost

sometimes it hurts though

when i go home in the early morning

and on the way i fantasize my friends will open the gate of my house for me

well drink a bit of tea

then we continue talking about the things we had just talked about 30 minutes ago

before i said ‘ive gotta go’

—no i dont know whats so gotta about gotta, i never even want to go—

and when i get there

they werent there

of course

they were just my friends

theyve got no business magic spraying the pain of my loneliness

theyre not in the medical team of my first XI

—in the premier league of my own stupidity—

theyre not my assistant coaches

they dont dress in tracksuits

cos they dont feel cold standing in the touchline of this

LIFE

unlike i

i love them

but theyre not here

theyre never here

never will be

i love them

i should love them less

Blogged with the Flock Browser

War Cry

I have left you for aeons
I have left you for the comfort of love
I have left you for a three-year guarantee of happiness
I have left you

I will try to get you back
by the river bend bursting with melati fronds.
I will get you back
before the boatman calls.

I will get you

There will be no grievance from me
No old socks soaked with dew
No staring at the clear moon
No more crystal curtains

No
Not from me

This time I mean it
Yes, sirree.
I will not let death’s dream kingdom
get me in my sleep.
I will not let it get me
on the prow of my black ship.

Not I

how to get the krispy kreme of the krop in yr life to rise to the top

BOXING & COOLING                FUCKING

                <——-      FLIPPING      <——-      COOKING      <——-      PROOFING

                                                                     

The General Theory of Unemployment, No Interest and No Money

the beginning of laissez-faire, or economic possibilities for our grand llamas
mikael johani

miles away in lima
i cocked the tip of my peruvian hat
to a shadow of you
in the corner of a deserted market


the measure of ego: an inquiry into the index numbers of its self-inflation
mikael johani and nicholas agafonoff
@mikael sounds like… you were remembering someone who no longer is… very lonely it feels

@agaforce i was just trying to get her to hire my llama

@mikael i don’t get that. are you just kidding. what’s a llama

@agaforce it’s those half-donkey half-ostrich animals they use as couriers

@mikael i see, so you are selling llamas. the shadow is a potential customer. maybe a tourist from distant seas

@agaforce maybe

@mikael and there is some despair because the marketplace is poor

@agaforce globalization and things

@mikael and the tourist becomes a strange spiritual creature that the locals loathe but have to prostitute themselves and their culture to in order to subsist

@agaforce most kids wear baseball hats now. thrown away their fedoras

@mikael there’s co-creation in post-modernity

@agaforce yep whoring is a lonely life

@mikael i like that you take the position of the llama seller. it evokes a whole other subjective experience that is remarkably detailed and sympathetic. quite political too in a beautiful and precise way

@agaforce selling llamas is a lonely wife

where is the madness that you promise me, where is the dream for which ive paid dearly ?*

ive spent too much of my time

telling other peoples tales

this country

the cracks on its

concrete-blown surface

ive bitten too hard

into the mouthpiece

of my bards mask

there are splinters

buried deep all over

my tounge

time to spit the world out !

let me tell you some things

about myself:

i long

to get rid of all my friends

sometimes

so i can wander the streets

of this city

alone

see my heart

displayed in a thousand teletrons

around bunderan hi

its chambers of horrors

the girls ive abandoned in my life

slaving away in white night gowns

pumping pus

into my veins

i will watch them work

sipping tonkotsu broth

in the revolving restaurant of my heart

26 floors up

never closer to tian !

paradiso

sorga di bumi

i will smile

thinking of how much

ive relied on the kindness of others

for my happiness

and how ive never replied

in kind.

this will not be a long story

no season 2 for the weak-willed !

my life is short

and theres been no glory

only a million firecrackers

in the puffy hands of little children

running amok in the pure black sky of my soul

thanks dave eggers !

ive learnt a lot from your verbal acrobatics

however much i despise

you and your mcsweeneys cohorts !

i will re-read couples

and fantasize about all the possible affairs

i could have with girlfriends

boyfriends wives

husbands of friends

and friends of friends

i will destroy my life

over and over again !

but it will be okay

because everything will be in my head

and in the teletrons

2100 meters below

i see no evidence

of alive brain stem

or the careful calculation

of which path to take

stopping by woods

on a snowy evening

where is the the ?

i hate you robert frost !

even your name is cold

and 2100 meters above sea level

a pair of bamboo chopsticks

feel as heavy as

a fatty smoker’s lung.

then i will take

the slowest elevator down

into the basement

of my petty

nit-picking

auto-hagiography.

* the magnetic fields, ‘no one will ever love you’, i like singing this song to myself, especially these lines