red light night city film and poems

Hey guys, here's a video I took stumbling home drinky drinky from my brothers' place on South 1st. Paired with the video are some poems I wrote about the NIGHT (or in the NIGHT!)! Cha cha!



impressions of night: wasteland


he removes some teeth
and yes,
to melancholy,
oh mighty.

sat awake at two am
with work
in the morning

saw in half the moon

I read adventures of twin
poets

one:
I have the jawbone of god;
and
two:

I have odyssey-like knees.

begin again to swim
the
summer,
begin
again

to Chopin
and
depart from
older siblings

beer
drank

late and obtrusive
and bussed.

speak of community
colleges
and
their faceless time,
of iron
bashed
posts on balcony nights

because everything takes
forever;
I
sip
a sleeping
girlfriend’s
discarded

beer.

believe, yes, believe,

all the world an unsealed
envelope
and
for me then
to gracefully
transform into
tongue and slather across
the wasteland
creating endings for
the opened hearted
beats and
the slack slick slums.


impressions of night: funny ha ha


one rutabaga down the aisle
of the grocery mart
sees
Estelle grab full
a cart of beans

and heaven knows someone
loves her.

I imagine the state
of
written warfare,

people with large egos brandishing
cocktail weenies in
throws
of grand entryway nothings,
uttering

uttering

the spittle spattle
of
saints and messiahs.

Steve is funny,
oh yes,

and a bridge somewhere in Texas
is broken and
receding;

two things barbarous and
toothy,
left lying on the earth
like children’s toys,

I unhappy to create them
again,

they unnecessary to
come apart and
salivate.


impressions of night: dreams


ask me of the dream
wherein
I collide into a coffee table
full of girls
I have
loved
but not loved

gabbing with my girlfriend
about
my face

and unabashedly all braying
with
contempt the moment I enter the room

oh
let’s make
soap

one asks

let’s watch
Bergman and silence

let’s not speak
and effect circles of lipstick
on windows.

again, a dream
that is meaningless is lavender,
it is cotton;
tonight I swam in a spring
and felt
the slime of the bottom surface
tease my toes.

every woman is riding her bike right now,
dodging traffic,
engaged in red lights,
committing
no crime,
singing harmony towards the background
hiss
of beaten trucks and dodgy rat
cars.


impressions of night – a criminal


in the night ether
I
as criminal
will
spool neon
thread
about
hobos’ fingers until
the whole city is
laced tight;
I will then descend into
the sewers and begin
to pilfer whatever
loose
metal piping I might find.

finally,
an adventure into
swollen back
alleys,

we will steal into the liquor store and smash
the bottles.
everyone will hate us;
we will be
revenged by leaving quickly,
silently, and easily.