the song of the devil screams and echoes all through the country and zombies in masks of newborn babies dance and party under a moon the colour of fire. the smell of burning fresh human flesh rotten gas blood and tears like a shroud of thick poisonous clouds hot air burning your lungs and treesContinue reading “the devil’s karaoke*”
Tag Archives: poetry
Sinta*
: Oka Segara and then in these woods is there anything greener than a woman’s cambium radiance a single leaf drifted to the ground a bloodless wound in the tree dew on the surface of the leaf as salty as river sand the language of life eternal and immovable : how deep do roots goContinue reading “Sinta*”
anti-matter
not that it matters, but i want to know who did the bad bad georgia brown tattoo on the back of your neck and the sickly montmarte whore in a top hat on the small of your back not that it matters, but the bajaj was painted aubergine purple yesterday and your skirt got stuckContinue reading “anti-matter”
Bondi*
The muck of the sea, liquid rust on the crest of the waves. Coke bottles, lighters, Havaianas, a set of house keys on a BMW key ring. *a rewrite of ‘Bondi’, from my first book We Are Nowhere And It’s Wow
paring
it’s a matter of paring. paring down yr thoughts to the most relevant at hand. paring down yr feelings to the least hype-y. paring down yr life to the most essential tasks. gusti allah paringono sabar.
bacin
i miss those days when i thought i sucked at everything i had no friend. there seemed to be no way out of that kind of depression. then i’d go for a walk. or a ride on my specialized bike (RIP :(). and nothing would change. i’ll read a book. the ordeal of gilbert pinfold.Continue reading “bacin”
modus ponens
<!–[if gte m so9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE Micro softInternet Explorer4 <![endif]–><!— [if gte m so9]> <![endif]–> <!–[if gte m so10]> <! /* Style Definitions */ table.M soNormal Table {mso-style-name:“Table Normal”; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style- noshow:yes; mso-style-priority: 99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:“”; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;Continue reading “modus ponens”
sun (((o)))
i miss riding my vespa into the sun pretty pillions riding shotgun i miss the silky heat of the sun the bicycle track around the artificial lake i miss drag-racing the sun the diesel clouds on the horizon i miss inventing the sun in dark, cloudless days
Eternal siesta*
A blank sojourn in June amongst the trotters. My soul lit, prostrate within my rapture (Close the riddle of the banks, over the rain, pure), I rail against the denouncement of ecstasy and verse. One relents enervated, expiring on the boudoir Prominent on my leave to the absurd Come with a piano voicing rave unmeasured,Continue reading “Eternal siesta*”
After Lunch
After Po Chü-i After eating lunch, I feel so 3.0. Waking later, I sip two Ventis of green tea frappuccino, then notice the Sarinah building aslant, the sun already low behind Tenabang again. Joyful people resent Twitterless days. Sad ones can’t bear the slow connection at their offices. It’s those with no joy and noContinue reading “After Lunch”
Divagyrations 