Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Lung Milk Lament

In my youth
i experimented
like cool
not like weird
i experimented
with the effects
of bumble bee venom
and semen
to increase
potency
and in my lament
i realized
i was
a late bloomer.

a picture of my dick, inside my pants, september 30, 2009

wednesday afternoon.
my dick acts as if it wants to nap.
it dreams about playing the cello.
it tries to put its loneliness into words.
it pours itself another glass of water.

A Picture of Caucasion Culture, United States of Caucasia, September 30, 2009

Wednesday afternoon.
I daydreamed about being MF Doom.
I imagined cubicle walls as dominoes.
I wished my resume was inked on some African flag.
Last night, I had nightmares.

A Picture of the Computer Lab Industry, United States of Whatever, September 30, 2009

Wednesday afternoon.
I watched a girl render herself deaf.
I turned a printer off.
I watched myself fall asleep.
I turned a printer on.

A Picture of The Food Service Industry, September 28th 2009

Monday night
I swept a tile floor
I took part in the creation of one hundred sandwiches.
I turned off three neon signs.
I was paid minimum wage.

a picture of unemployment, union of soviet socialist republics, september 29, 1949

thursday night.
i watched a fly commit suicide in my toilet.
i drank vodka.
i watched my wife pray beneath the window.
i drank water from the sink.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

A Picture of Unemployment, United States of America, September 29, 2009

Tuesday night.
I watched Capote.
I drank wine.
I watched YouTube videos of kittens.
I drank wine.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

kissing morgan freeman

here's the beginning of something i'm doing


I don't believe in 9/11
and I don't trust the Midas touch.
I've got no problems shaking babies and kissing hands.
I'm the straggling goose in a flying V.
I'm a 1,000,000th century man.



where the fuck am i going with this. I think it's going to be part of a poem placed inside I AM SHAUN GANNON because I want to incorporate as many types of writing as possible in it, and splashing it with some longer pieces will break up the encroaching irritation that comes with all my nameyelling.

'Nother Kewl Charles Simic

WHAT THE GYPSIES TOLD MY GRANDMOTHER WHILE SHE WAS STILL A YOUNG GIRL

War, illness and famine will make you their favorite grandchild.
You'll be like a blind person watching a silent movie.
You'll chop onions and pieces of your heart into the same hot skillet.
Your children will sleep in a suitcase tied with a rope.
Your husband will kiss your breasts every night as if they were two gravestones.

Already the crows are grooming themselves for you and your people.
Your oldest son will lie with flies on his lips without smiling or lifting his hand.
You'll envy every ant you meet in your life and every roadside weed.
Your body and soul will sit on separate stoops chewing the same piece of gum.

Little cutie, are you for sale? the devil will say.
The undertaker will buy a toy for your grandson.
Your mind will be a hornet's nest even on your deathbed.
You will pray to God but God will hang a sign that He's not to be disturbed.
Question no further, that's all I know.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

2 Kewl Charles Simic Pomes

Charles Simic writes pomes. I've been reading them lately, specifically the book The Voice at 3:00 A.M. He has been writing them longer than we have. We're pretty damn good, I think, but this book is awesome. These two pomes were memorable:


A LETTER

Dear philosophers, I get sad when I think.
Is it the same with you?
Just as I'm about to sink my teeth into the noumenon,
Some old girlfriend comes to distract me.
"She's not even alive!" I yell to the skies.

The wintry light made me go that way.
I saw beds covered with identical gray blankets.
I saw grim-looking men holding a naked woman
While they hosed her with cold water.
Was that to calm her nerves, or was it punishment?

I went to visit my friend Bob, who said to me:
"We reach the real by overcoming the seduction of images."
I was overjoyed, until I realized
Such abstinence will never be possible for me.
I caught myself looking out the window.

Bob's father was taking their dog for a walk.
He moved with pain; the dog waited for him.
There was no one else in the park,
Only bare trees with an infinity of tragic shapes
To make thinking difficult.


CABBAGE

She was about to chop the head
In half,
But I made her reconsider
By telling her:
"Cabbage symbolizes mysterious love."

Or so said one Charles Fourier,
Who said many other strange and wonderful things,
So that people called him mad behind his back,

Whereupon I kissed the back of her neck
Ever so gently,

Whereupon she cut the cabbage in two
With a single stroke of her knife.

What Was the Name of It?

I was listening to a song that is over ten minutes long.
I was kinda sad while listening to it
then I was kinda sad when it was done.
The song was called I Love You.
No it wasn't.
It was called I Loathe You.
No it wasn't.
It was called I Loath Your Love.
Nope.
These were the names of my sad songs
that I sang while listening to the song
that is over ten minutes long.

On Being Boneman

I haven't contributed as much to this society as others have.
I'll tell you why: I am scared.
Ever since the puberty spurts hit, I grew
more cautious than I did hair.
The balls dropped just fine
but I have always prudently used them.
They lay among the dick like meek mice
huddled in a hole in the wall.
Also, lots of dudes acquired girth and I didn't.
It is obvious that I own a skeleton.

Whatever. At least I'm flexible like a collection of door hinges.
I can run pretty damn fast and am good at yelling.
Everything will probably be alright.

Friday, September 25, 2009

what i thought life meant when i was sixteen and too ugly to fuck

A carefully planned, sensible business;
low investment with high yield opportunity.
Free to submission, open to suggestions
from partner and stockholder alike.
Locally owned, nationally known
Buy two get one half off everything
must go now SUNDAY ONLY

It works because it has to!
Coupon-matching drug-testing required
equal opportunity employer.
No downsizing, no outsourcing
except to fantastic getaways
to sell your timeshare for cash.
Why pay more for less?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

csu reading series

csu hosted a reading by the poets g.c. waldrep and john gallaher. it was a great reading. search out some poems by these guys.

john gallaher started a poem with one of my favorite lines i've heard in a while. it went something like, "at times, i feel like a ghost walking through night, believing in people."

i did one of those slight exhales/tiny laughs in disbelief at the line, in how good a line of poetry can be. i heard fellow mfa poet sunshine dempsey have the same reaction.

i want to know, what recent lines or sections from poems have caused you to physically react in disbelief?

these are the original DEATHMARCH word wordies

1st
2nd

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

eating mick ronson

Here's a thing I wrote last spring. It was before DEATHMARCH but it applies to DEATHMARCH more than anything else IN THE WORLD. I had been awake for 30 hours when I wrote it, which was during a time when I had replaced food and sleep with unhealthy things, which was unhealthy, so I quit.

DEATHLIFE STARES AT THE SUN

DEATHLIFE is the double-murder of diet and sleep. DEATHLIFE is brought to you by Mtn Dew and Camel cigarettes. DEATHLIFE is a dinosaur giving thumbs up as it sinks into the tar. DEATHLIFE does not have friends. DEATHLIFE has stickers. I voted for DEATHLIFE before I voted against it. Do not submerge DEATHLIFE in liquids. Do not tell DEATHLIFE your secrets. DEATHLIFE comes with a swingset, though it isn't very trustworthy. DEATHLIFE is a deal with the devil for the twenty-first century. According to DEATHLIFE, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his sternum. DEATHLIFE is a fast track to word salad. DEATHLIFE does not support alcohol or masturbation; these make you tired. I would not recommend combining these. I would not recommend DEATHLIFE.

MANIFESTO

DEATHMARCH NEEDS NO MANIFESTO.
DEATHMARCH IS A MANIFESTO.
WE ARE DEATH. WE ARE MARCH.
GO FUCK YOURSELF GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Srsly

I drank my willpower in five beers.
I vomited my willpower in five minutes.
I cleaned up my willpower with five towels.
I've got five minutes to get some more willpower.
I won't stop drinking anytime soon.
I've been high for three months.
I can't bench press my body weight.
I can't bench press your body weight.
I have limitations. I am first person.
I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Man, Dese Leopard print Shoes are printin' leopards all over sidewalks

I guess my body is horny
and it's uncomfortable.
If I could fuck a cloud, I would do it.
If I could fuck while I'm dead, I'd do it.
I could make an umbilical chord
kinky.
Sometimes I wonder if ants ever get jealous sharing the same girl
like trains in the 1800's. They run a train constantly
like it's the 1800's.
I wonder if Kool-Aid and sugar are cool with having water sex
to make fruit drink.
Some people are into deep water like that.
I don't think I like the motion of oceans.
Is it all about babies?
Babie$?
I hope not.
Sometimes people talk about coke and I don't know what they're talking about.
Sometimes I know what people are talking about.

Usually at night I curl up in a nice matchbox
and there is no fire
but if fire was all the time
I'm sure that would bore me too.

high-fiving ray wise

Hi person looking at this, you should follow the links on the side to our individual blogs and read those. you should also look into our books and buy and read those. i am promoting us and it is shameless because there is no shame in being as awesome as we are, look it up, its on wikipedia with a bunch of other bullshit

More promotion, there's a reading coming up in october at motinis that has 4/5ths of the DEATHMARCH bros. that's all of us minus dan bailey because he's in colorado, which is apache for "state of colours." yes when translating apache into english, you use UK english, not american. i don't know the details of that

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE, we recorded some stuff for BSU's media conglomerate website, god knows when that will be up, but when it is, you'll see the link here. it will probably be really cool. we made a poster of dan bailey and turned it into a picket sign. no he's not really dead, sorry to all those people to whom we said that, okay i'm not really sorry, i lied, sorry

Friday, September 18, 2009

I FEEL SHINY OUT THE MOUTH

HERE IS A POEM THAT MAKES MY HEART WEEP TINY MOTHS

I REALLY WANT ZACHARY SCHOMBURG'S NEW BOOK. HIS FIRST BOOK, THE MAN SUIT, IS INCREDIBLE

OTHER BOOKS THAT I WANT BUT DON'T HAVE MONEY FOR RIGHT NOW:

SCORCH ATLAS BY BLAKE BUTLER

THE DIFFICULT FARM BY HEATHER CHRISTLE

OTHERS THAT I CAN'T THINK OF RIGHT NOW

DRUNK AT NOON

THREE BEERS IN THE VILLAGE
PLUNDER, DEATH, AND PILLAGE

Thursday, September 17, 2009

sledding george stephanopoulos

this is the first post
it's pretty short
hopefully that changes soon