Saturday, February 28, 2009

That Can-Do Spirit

Miguel de Unamuno was wrong --> it’s not our reflections we fall in love with when we look in another’s eyes --> it’s the scent of our own breath bounced back at us by the breath of the other breather. To my question, Lisa answers “the universe IS time travel.” And so the lover is always taking away my own out-breath upon leaving. And I can control my muscles and make my heart go 185 beats per minute --> but I cannot make a text turn into life --> magic IS the imagination, we know it, we face it --> and I dream about you every night --> And if you think about the muscles and the bones in your face as you smile, you will be too anatomically aware to be really smiling, and your smile will be an act of musculature, the ghost tracing of your emotion. --> So examination of emotion is always an examination of its after-effects. O, thought itself is an apocalypse, which is just okay, as a broken, though adequate, way to navigate anyone’s life --> So every poem for the next 1000 years will be about that dream, and in every life after this life when we meet I will already be writing about you, but neither of us will know it, and as we fall in love and fuck and leave each other over and over I will dream both this dream somewhere deep and far away from remembrance and another dream above it, and reinforce the pattern, again and again. At the end of 1000 years I will be finished, no matter what we have become to each other --> and I will take a deep breath and open my metaphysical wings and dissolve into air and be done with dreams --> and if my air car has a cracked header by then, I will become All air car, or an economist. And, of course, Miguel de Unamuno wasn't always wrong.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Coughing Winter

You know, I don't drink,
So instead I have to feel.
I brought the poem a ball,
Coughed the winter out,
Balled the poem, effectively,
Ate sausage and pepper,
And remembered your shoes.
All of them were just so-so,
But I didn't think.
Watching the lauded poet
Listen to the grand famous poet
I'm glad I ride a bicycle,
Glad I know how to fight
With my hands and legs,
And how to use a machete.
Today's a dad's birthday:
My dad, mine twice as yours.
Keeping my head shaved
Keeps me closer to the word.
I'm faint everywhere but the bed.
I'm a DaVinci of it, you remember.
And DaVinci wrote upside-down and backwards
Because he Tried.
He tried a lot of tangled Light.
I took you on my subway.
You moved away from my _______.
I chose to be a frogman going into you,
And still you are the you of my poems,
Even as I try,
Backwards and upside-down.
I don't want any of the world's money
If it has to be that way--
Wait, which way do I mean?

You can watch me recite this poem here.

Friday, February 20, 2009

When You Need A Little Jimi

What Hanif Likes

Hanif likes to create articles about this industry.
Hanif likes to create articles about this area.
Hanif likes to write articles about this subject.
Hanif likes to scribble articles about this topic.
Hanif likes to pen down articles about this area.
Hanif likes to compose articles about this field.
Hanif likes to write articles about this topic.
Hanif likes to play his mouth water.
Hanif likes to win...good job.
Hanif likes to shoot.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009


I need a better definition for "idea" than "anything you can't kick or throw."

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Date: Thu, 5 Feb 2009 01:14:55 +0000 [Wednesday February 04, 2009 06:14:55 PM MST]
From: Ben Cramer
To: Matt Rotando
Reply-To: b*********.net
Subject: [No Subject]
Headers: Show All Headers
I'm sitting on the subway platform, 28th St N/R train and there's a guy, suit and serious glasses, next to me. He sat down in a flurry right next to me, kinda cramping my elbow room, and whipped out his old-school center-ring calendar. I could easily read all of it. I thought you'd appreciate knowing that the entirety of THIS FRIDAY is blocked off -- unlike the other days which have many different chapters -- as follows: