Grief will fuck you up Monkey

One of the first articles I read this morning was on the mourning habits of the marmoset. This chunk leapt out at me:

…several months after her death, the male disappeared from the marmoset group, never to be seen again.

And gave chase
Looping over and…
getting tangled-up,
in everything.

Like how every pop and shush
of steam from the coffee maker
is nestled in woven loops of
never to be heard of again

Maybe that’s why I never made that second cup.

I mean, fuck—out pops a clown:
if all I get out of it is grief,
why should I even turn you on,
oh ye coffee pot o’ doom!

That was close wasn’t it.
You can always count on a clown,
though, ride in last minute,
keep you alive another day.

Call it love.

The lone survivor of the ambush and subsequent tortures suffered survivor’s guilt and post traumatic stress disorder for his remaining days. Mostly in bed waiting to hear from an ally.

Solace never came. No trust or hope now. Just ruin. Ruin and decay. And one lone broken poet spreading the story, but leaving off the ending—he will have none think ill of his only ally.
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Praise the creator

and other things!

Sven Meyer – Drown
experimental, ambient, drone
a l0BIT release
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White Jumpsuit

This means more time to do things we really enjoy.
~Business Insider

She is dragged from her car and revitalized.
She takes her place on the assembly line.
It’s OK.
She will sleep on the drive home.

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OK, so…like happy thoughts, and beauty in the mundane.

Phew, I need to come up for a bit. It’s getting bleak up in here.

Although the Warning still holds, and I’m still working on The Project, I need to back down a little, gain my bearings, write some happier stuff.

Oh, I’m all for cutting until it bleeds… but I also have to look out for myself. It’s frighteningly easy to get sucked up into poemspace and never come out; not so appealing.

I’ll try to weave a scaffolding of humor and delight to hang from while producing this harsh art.

Monkey in the Middle

Fatman & Dancing Girl | Suzanne Vega | 99.9 F°

Buy it on Amazon

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Exasperated At You!

Oh, Jesus Christ! If you read all these poems
wrongly and concluded I’m Fine and Dandy,
it is the wrong conclusion!

Go the other way with it.
The opposite of Fine!
The opposite of Dandy!

Unfine! Undandy!

Argh!

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I had a hard time titling this one. here are some of the lucky trees that didn’t make it:

  • I'm Exasperated By/At You!
  • I'm Exasperated At Your…
    oh dear radiance wishful thinking!
  • I'm Exasperated at you
    oh dear Radiance and your wishful thinking
  • Exasperated I am!
    at your Radiance's wishful thinking!
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Constant

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The scars we try hard to forget

Cat Stevens hangs on with my favorite album, but Dance by Mutabaruka is my favorite song.

I embedded this one because cool slideshow, here’s one that doesn’t run forty-five seconds over.

cause out of de music comes de tinkin of de mind
an’ de people move on leavin nothin behind
de laughter an’ pain become as one
like de action of our ancestors risin from de lan’