William Keckler. Poet, Narcissist, Blawger. Sad clairvoyant. Answering machine for the dead. Beep. Formerly, the Valerie Solanas of American poetry blogs. If I owe you an apology, I'm saying it right here. J'accuse la manie. Butthole Whisperer and erstwhile poacher/harvester of ivory. Out of Africa and deepest Harrisburg. Goreyphile from a very early age. Bipolar bear much baited by circus freaks. Let's watch crackheads watch RUGRATS on vintage NICKELODEON.
WHORE PIECE:
Be a whore for a year.
This means a literal whore.
Have sex only for money.
Have sex only with people you despise.
Throw all the money you earn
into the sea late at night.
Come back the next day
and see if any money washed ashore. Complain.
I wish I could say humans move me closer to God, but usually it's the Cocteau Twins. I'm crazy as a Trappist monk talk show.How come nobody ever complains that they're overrated? I have poetry horror stories. I don't hate anyone but human coat hangers get on my nerves. Cliquey sons-'a'-bitches. Son, I am disappoint. The greatest weakness of anything is that it's not something else. Disability niggah. I cannibalized a hipster and I liked it. Pray for me.
2 comments:
Right on! And kefir! And peanut butter right out of the jar at 3 AM! XO TC
HAHAHAHA Todd!
I bought some Odwalla bars yesterday.
I stood in the aisle where the willowy people look like the 22nd century and read the Odwalla bars and noted their goodness.
Then I put them in my half-grocery cart.
But I don't think the god of dietary probity was fooled.
Sartre could have used this as a classic example of "bad faith" in one of his mickey-mouse essays.
I had become a collaborator.
I had used Vichy coins to buy something.
Momus waited outside the liquor store and when I passed I agreed I should be lined up against the wall and shot.
But wait til dawn.
Take a picture of me eating the Odwalla bar before you kill me.
Let posterity know I could always come up with a good lie at the eleventh hour to save somebody's feelings.
I remember you saying "My face is not a toy."
That line titillated me and stuck with me.
And I kept saying "well everybody's face is a toy!" in my head for a few days.
And wondering.
Language is like a bear trap, a strap on, a bear trap, a strap on...no it's not.
Don't blog with only one eye open, I remind myself.
The windshield wiper will diminish the visual returns.
xo b
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