"First in Violence, Deepest in Human Dirt, Landless, unlove--rly, Ill-smelling, Irrepressible , Nude; An Overgrown Slack-Jawed Gawk of an Asshat's Wet Dream, The "Tough" Among American Cities of which there is but One, a Spectacle for The Slumbering Nation. Quite Simply: Hell has been described as a Pocket Pussy Edition of
– Boris Izsus
“Under The Skin, it Smells like a Dumpster” – Yahtzee Mitzsugurshi
I.
In this City, Built over a Swamp, You’re
1. Within a City in which to Piss out one’s Identity
2. Within the EL Train looking for someone to say something to someone to anysomeone
3. Within the Notion of getting inside Anyone anyone please get me up in someone’s Skin
4. Within the Heat of these Streets in June, I’m Swollen with the Terror of how This is all too Fucking Much
5. Within the Solidity of one’s Bones us/up against the Wall to draw out Our own Conclusions end in Confusions
6. Within the Presence of the Other was the Construction of Us was our wasing was
7. Within the Thought “I want to Muck about with you” under a Tree in August where our Sweat sludges us to Secretly Touch
8. Within the Inability of this Sense of how we’re Blinded by the Impossibility of not just being Ourselves
9. Within the Trash of the Storm widening it’s Leash, to roll out another Memory, another Failure
10. Within the Blank Page you become my Neighbor, which I wholeheartedly Despise
11. Within the Dream in which we Sensed our Physical Declines or, as if Children, Frozen, in a Smudge
12. Within the Flames of our Tensions from Uptown to we’re going Southbound, Baby
13. Within the Subscription you Hold: Your Boredom is Immeasurable, you Poor Little Thang.
14. Within the Ah Motherfucker when you reach the End of the Line on the EL & well lookie here you’re Shit outta Time
II.
“My Life in this City, seems like Something you’ve never Dreamed About”—“The More I think of you, the More I just want to Grudgefuck you, tenderly”—“& Fuck, what’choo think about that Face up in my Ass?”—“Your Seduction, depends upon the Agitator”—“The More I hear about Terror [in] Town, the more I Shiver in your Hands”—“It’s only natural to have this Fear of finding your own Ending”—“I just want to fall into your Body, on the Wrong side of this City”—“There is no Blueprint for an Asshole”—“When I came into this World in Filth I was Glorious in my Rankity”—“I don’t feel the need for you to Come too, but you probably should”—“On The Face, gathered your Footprints”—“I would like for us to Lay in a Ditch together, Bloody & Laughing”—“Songs are more endearing when I cannot decipher the Words”—“The Bridge between a Song Bird & a fucking Bitch”—“Call me your Bitch & you will be the one who Commands”—“I cannot see this Horror marching towards us with your Fingers in my Eyes”—“I’ve got the Runs”—“I like when you hold my Cock with an Air of Unbridled Aggression”—“But since I’m alone, I wanted to hear my Neighbors fucking up in This”—“It’s Gradual like an Allegro”—“There is a reason I feel so Empty—Handed”—“The Small Pains of the Day”—“Methinks my Love flows South from your Lips”—“Our Intimacy is a Perpetual Abbreviation”—“Which never Alleviates”—“It’s early June & already, in the Mirror yes, you are already Ruined”—“To Tyrannize we Adjust our Expectations of the Outcome”—“This Alone replaces our Past Intimacy”—“I want you to say my Name so that it Hits upon my Ears, as one Fuck of a Lashing”—“I am so tired of being Specific”—“I think you have the most Beautiful Titties, I ever did See”—“I want your Fist across my Voice”—“Our Love is a Hole”—“In which I desire to Suffocate”—“It’s the Emotions I need to Avoid”—“Farming a Form of Forgetting”—“We were making Love rise by it’s Feet”—“I don’t believe a Word I say anymore”—“I want to Open the Door tonight & find myself Adored”
~~~~~~~~~~`
III
This City Sleeps because This City has Shit to do.
This City Tho, never Rests Working we’re always Working to get to Work or finish the Work to Work on Working so we can Work on getting ourselves Home so we can Sleep to Work to Press our Working Bodies subserviently Working to Work at Sleeping Working to Sleep so Working is Working our Bodies in a Pushing Working a Working to the Bed Working to Sleep at Working to Work at Rising Working so to Work again Working to Fucking Working to Work to Work & Working at Working the Work on getting Ourselves to Working on Working Home Working again to Working at Sleep Working ourselves to Work Working then to Working to Sleep Working again at Work Working to Work a Working at Working to Work at a Stop Working the Mind Working through the Work Re-Working of the Working Day Working & Working all that Work Working at Working that keeps us Working us Working & Awake Working at Work Working, Working to Forget Working the Working our Re-Workings Work of the Working Day Working won’t Stop Working so we Work a Working at desperately Working at Working to Forget Working Our Working of Work Working to Forget how we’re always Working at Working in Work to Work & so we Work to Begin to Work at Working a Working Dream Working a Dreaming that’ll Work to stop Working The Working that Works to find us Working to Work at Dreaming of Working a Work is Working a Dream Working in Work which we’re Working that Slip us Working Slyly Working to Work a Working us Beneath our Working Days Working in This Working City Working so much Working that it forgets it’s Working at Work constantly Working at Working a Working of Work, Works at Forgetting Working at Times Working to Work in Working it’s Working Drive to Work a Working City Working in Work never seems to be Working to Work fucking seems Working to never Work this Working a Work properly Working so we’re always Working at Working this City to Work into a Working, Works at Working a Working that’ll actually Fucking Work for once Work fucking Working a Work never Works so we’re Stuck still Working the Workings of Working to make Working fucking Work for once Working just fucking Work so we can stop Working a Working of this Work of Working to Work the Working of Working to just fucking Work so much Work Working that never Working ever Working when Working fucking seems Working to be Working so then we’re Working at our Pride Working to Work so we can Work the Workings of Working to Work so it’s always Work to Working this Working on Working to Work the Workings of Working & Working to actually Working towards a Work-Work & still Working at Working this Working is a Working feeling of I’m not actually fucking Working.
IV
Transfer—[ily] ing—[ily] Me—[ily] to—[ily] Streets—[ily]
in—[ily] Mid—[ily]-Day—[ily] I’m—[ily]
Or—[ily], too—[ily] Simple—[ily] Arrive—[ily] in—[ily] this—[ily] Crowd—[ily] Here—[ily]
to—[ily] Hear—[ily], I—[ily] want—[ily] tobe—[ily]own—[ily] am—[ily] Voice—[ily] so—[ily],
on—[ily], all—[ily] Fours—[ily] Fell—[ily] on—[ily] Mine—[ily] Face—[ily]
&—[ily] I—[ily] look—[ily] ed—[ily] Up—[ily] to—[ily]
crowd—[ily]gang—[ily] on—[ily]
me—[ily]
which—[ily] surely—[ily] spoke—[ily]
of—[ily] city—[ily]crisis—[ily]
I—[ily] am—[ily]
So—[ily]
soso—[ily]
soso—[ily]
soso—[ily]:
So, [I interrupted] the
cityvoice, as
it were, outside itself th’limits
amounts to—
a monument—[ing] this Form,
err—
[un]th’[non]th’…
“I was known for my
lowclass
accent,” Ascends an
instan[t]ce of Narrative [derived]—just
a series of endless
Bodies I see in place of
I place, a real fucking th’Structure
[ing] a love—rly Face this [dis]—attached
to City[em]Body a Personal or,
anti—I say shit [about] The
Private Life pronounces
so—so foolishly Framing this
produce—
is ising this toughsteak of
our Bodily
[de]—Feats----------->this:
How—our—EL
beating
meets
thus:
Inner antagonistic coils of—while Heating the Heart Hunted deployed, to
commuter daily often [the offerings] wrecking the while
head can’t sublimate The Horror— overtones,
the unknown raceor, loss, Crotch of innuendo, [self]caricature
maybedly—[?] an opposition to Representation, while
march—[ed] onya weightedly resumed an internal
deployment to decimate that motherfucker’s Subject[ed] Societal Half—”
V
& then you said to me:
Aye ai ai My Little Asshat
VI
1. There are Entirely too many fucking Options in
2. I’m not, am too Handsome not to let just Anyone
3. A Flash in the Eye highlights the Fleshy part of the Underarm.
4. Under the Skin
5. “Smells like a Dumpster”
6. You are Durational, a Tone of Weight, Seemingly or, Restless, a Pigeon.
7. You are a Pigeon.
8. You are not a Pigeon no, you are a Dog.
9. You are a Fucking Dog.
10. Imagining, every moment is Your Supper.
11. You are a Filthy Fucking Dog.
12. There is still so much meaning I refuse to disclose & just then, you Rose.
13. to towerself
14. The Border of Touch & your Heart pounding Hard up & Over, it’s own Edge.
15. dogchops--------------lockjaw
16. The Word, is Shit.
17. All this Excess [of words] is all an attempt to Outrun my own Voice
18. These Wings, surely are meant for Threatening a Shredding of Things & you & you always for You.
VII
The City’s Streets Sing of Glories I’ve yet to Sling. I want that Bitch all over me. In this Location, I’m surely, I’m Fucked. I adore that my Privacy has a Curfew, which makes me Sucker. The City’s Space, is beginning to invade that Other City’s Face up North. We Parasitic the Land & Captivate in good ol Fashioned Melodrama. Politics? Just keep your Mouth shut when you Eye me. You show your True Grit in this City. The Voice? Fuck it right on Down to the Low to the Music in which Unearths the Terror of your Life that you Endlessly attempt to Face to only end in Facewash. I’m Bloated. Bloated with my Desire to Absorb each & every one of my Fellow Inhabitants. & this Hurts me, when I am alone, going blank without a Proper Representation. There are so many Disarticulate People here, boning about like a Dog in my Lap. Against the Burst of Architecture, here in the
VIII
I was told this Morning, that the Pigeonman of Lincoln Square was recently Run over by a Van, in the Street, while covered in Pigeons & he was Dead
I thought:
washeDeadwasheDeadwasheDead?
“YesYeshe is Dead”
The Pigeonman surely was surely he was Dead & O’ How I laughed I Laughed & O’ How I did fucking Laugh for The Pigeonman was finally Dead The Pigeonman was fucking Dead
VIX
When I Rest you see, I’ll be Done’it’ll be, The End you see The End ya see?
X.
Now Open your Eyes & find yourself here, in this City we Built on a Swamp & now
Close yr Eyes
& feels how it how
& feels how it how
howithowhowithow
howithowhowithow
howithowhowithow
howithowhowithow
How The Shit it
gits’in’ya
aaaaaaaaall’up’inya’till’ya’marinate, baby
