novel entry one

what do you mean what's new?


chp 1

In the event of my father's suicide, I'm obligated to do many things: funeral arrangements, tidying up, loving mom more than usual, taking over the business and finding a home for Oscar my dad's bulldog (my mother hates dogs). It was all over the papers: Newspaper Tychoon Swan Dives from the 28th floor. However, it is my belief that he did not dive off of the 28th story like a swan as they said.
He couldn't have. He was not a good swimmer and he made belly flops when he dove into the water. He didn't write those words on paper: what do you mean what's new? enough is enough. He couldn't have. In all my life, I have never known my father to use a pen and paper. As a child, he would send me commands via text message. Juan dinner's ready. Juan have a good day in school. Juan its 1 am where are you? etc.

It is my belief that my father was conveniently murdered on my fifteenth birthday.

little love, big love

You make me smile now
now blank canvas
filled with light
fill me like the sun

...

little love, big love

big love listens
as little love speaks
"I thought of your smile today"
"Oh,really" Big love speaks
echoing like a large voice in small cave
"when?"
"Oh when I was stuck in traffic
when the billboard reminded me of you. when the woman
selling cigarettes on the street reminded me of the time you
said
"you really like your vices don't you?"
or when that song came on
about paying for love
how does that line go?
oh yes... 'I'll pay for you anytime'
That guy's voice is catchy."

Big love grows tired of listening
little love stops talking
"Can I kiss you now?"
They are really talking now

notes for kerry 2008

When you are present the world is truly alive
something that I found that I love:

this moment there is funk music
It's here in the present like I am... I would listen but I would rather hear. hearing seems to be a little more honest and real.

what's real anyway?

I asked this question in philosophy class and got the history in non-linear format from Hegel to Spinoza
Aristotle
Woody Allen

....
I am no longer interested in past truths just present
drink
diet coke

allen ginsberg

if i could write like him
i would
i'd sail
and swallow
and burn up

i'd lose and suffer loss
and bloom and grow
and evaporate into a nothing
box
with nothing in it
but words
words.
words.
words.

The Cycle of My Breathing

You see
I breathe for you.

in order to
synthesize the outgoing
stimuli
that are overly social in their pursuit of happiness
that salute and promenade around and into my solitude
that proliferate and probe
that produce a wasteland of unused worldly wonder like a vat of unprocessed meat or wasted buffet lines.
or the unused corn fields, or the abundant wheat fields of the middle American country side.

I am part of the corn fields
that feed the demand of Middle America
the cure to the starvation of the third world

in order to
cope with the stimulants

that ignite neurons and make electrons ocsillate wildly
that clog arteries and evaporate bodily fluids
that salute and promenade around and into my solitude
that proliferate and probe the world's oceans
to create the clouds and the rain
that produce a wasteland of stormy weather and an angry sun, a depressed moon

I am part of the water cycle
the boundary layer
that allows evaporation and transportation to occur wildly
that makes the earth breathe

You see
she breathes for you.

I will

Lolita is my lover
Not my friend
Resting, resisting
She’s somewhere inside

A spacious room with deep auburn and bluish hues,
Waiting for me, in snow colored sheets
She will
Die.

I am her lover
Not her friend
Exploding, committing
She’s coming inside.

An Echo of murmurs and murderous notions
Escaping from our red painted mouths
“I will love you”
“I will ruin you”

She is my extinction

With me encased in her breath.

I will
Breathe

january poems

see me

I am a volcanic sky

erupting with wild fury

gusty winds, singing through

ferocious teeth

“death comes in unity”

January 02, 2010 History: Manila captured by Japan

see me

I am your captor

leveling your city with air raids

and gutsy tanks, singing through

metallic mouths

“You are my colony”

January 3,2010 History: B. Marley was shot.

I hear your music:

tropical heat, bodies dispersing heat–a contagious radiation

IMAGE– bodies coming together

one is the assasin the other the glad sucker.

you shoot her with your power.

the bullet goes wacko when it comes

through the skin feeling her universe, exploring her solar

system.

She sings through smiling teeth,

“I’m your sucker, baby.”

January 4,2010 History: first crusade

I read your plans of convertion:

seduction of the mind, scare tactics, illertarcy and advocacy

of the one true religion– the musings of a young and awkward

lover.

IMAGE– souls coming togther

one is the priest and the other the savage

you push the savage off a cliff.

she scatters in a thousand little pieces when she comes.

stars scatter forming new relationships– constellations.

The stars sing through glittering mouths,

“We are glittering because of you– a leap of faith”

January 5,2010 History: Led Zepplin Disbands

See me

I am a zepplin

navigating through your oceans and plateaus.

a courageous exploration, a tempest, a whirlwind

an aviator sings through daring teeth,

“I’ve made a map of your oceans, plateaus. will you navigate

them with me?”

January 6, 2010 History: Liquid on Mars

You see my scars, little eye sores

tiny messages written in braille.

Your fingers unlock my hidden alphabet.

the messages written on my body long ago

one by a clumsy knife and the other a disobedient horse.

a body cartographer sings through ink drenched teeth,

” May I travel the seas from the tip of your scalp to the tips of

your toes?”