hot surly mash to break the silence

“In itself, homosexuality is as limiting as heterosexuality: the ideal should be to be capable of loving a woman or a man; either, a human being, without feeling fear, restraint, or obligation.”
― Simone de Beauvoir

sexuality on a saturday
the words onscreen are the river
the bodies around the screens are the stones
what to do with insight and being insightful? start painting
jump off
break down
listen to musicians say “cesspool”
realize what you are then shut up then talk
silence and her breakages
personification

unzip the tent and bolt inside

The necessary truth surrounded with pain; swim down to find the revolution latent in your blood — I wanna be around my friends, colleagues, sexy missionaries draped in leather and lace, lacquered lips, hung with gold, the bones God bought us, the skin we sutured;

eating censor smoke
eating centaur jelly
no one knows what happens in the impossible

bawdy double
knee doula
fire camp
MREs (meals ready to eat, aluminum, add hot water, it cooks)

sloshing through the portal of genius terribly slow

Identically forget what night it is down I gently forget what night it is. No, no no no no no delete all that I Dan DAINTILY.

i daintily forget what night it is

screaming, muttering, BECOME THE BILLBOARDS
can literally just stand there, breathe deeply, get crazy ideas and write them down then be the media maven you are
deliberate
kind
smart
cute

geiger counter tests for radioactive decay
gringo counter
Gerson’s Whistle
gerontocracy gelatinous cringe

https://www.austinchronicle.com/authors/valeria-valdez/

not really into journalistic writing, did an internship

someone who remembers is a threat

the anarchy in a desperate link of fire
there being no leader, no savior but
the effort to proceed into the black
hallucination of belonging and
security forces reign upon parades of
innocent bystanders, mediocre
and forgivable

renaissance angels reloaded
discussing our compromised states
drugged
scales weighted
tip of it

collapse in the rocks and you don’t need your body
when i hear this in your voice everything’s fine
the lonesome search for contact we all grew up as

an infinity of good days

Best Take engineered by Google
splays fake happiness over the grid
pinkwashed pedal plate

i hallucinate into Elon Musk telling the head of Disney to fuck off on national television

criminal trespasses in every state in the union

purity pills
purity perils

THEY’Re going to Gracie’s tonight to slug Manhattans and watch Manhattan
crown shyness
abyssal Cro-Magnon
imagination of where we are and can’t and won’t get / further than wanting to touch but being owned by the need to win, file papers with the Senate; I can say what we’re up against, and I listen 3x as much and finally ‘just’ climb

chicken cordon flute

time to wreck some space-time, tear a hole; slow down to others’ schedule and voices; facing the perfect steamed oat milk, fancy; real life sucking up the psychic blood-draw like usual; blacking out and being perfect sure ain’t rewarded like I thought: laboring in slowness, zero recognition; do I secretly prefer it this way? The road’s hardness and length snuffs out young talents easily; one keeps figuring or stops, allows the others to proceed, worships them from afar, focusing on their jobs, and I see them doing it; I have distance without losing touch; the intensity of original visioning is the thing — also, hot young tender girls and access, a conniption of skin, yearning to collapse; we know this and the futility

what to do with fear, anger and narcissism that replenishes daily?

I awake torn between a desire to explain the world and describe the world; this makes it impossible to plan the day

Have you come to gawk at my survival? I am the bird / only the game exists: relationship, acceleration, perfection; I stand a statue aflame by the garnet rose as she lingers hedonistically askance among the threshed-to-vagina-shaped rosebushes; absurd photography and fiction ~ intensity meets absurdity and mediocrity, a node finds a way through the wooden plank, a noble spark; inspiring others grows boring; thrill myself again: see the world, be inspired; in English and with an online presence and community, it’s a drag, the fire underneath the fire, the voice below action; do I dwell and swell and stroke this Poseidon coin, discovering its two sides anew again? Art lives alongside politics is a nobleness competition ~ who’s good, who gets what, says who; do they deserve it? Wonder: if the present conforms to the expectation; tired, sleepwalking expectation enforcers gather beneath the clocks on the boulevards and avenues named for the dead; the brightness of the clarion call of presence cannot be refused; telepresence, faces, voices, motion — even if vanilla, same thing every day, today like all others, no remorse, morose vagabonds from the crib and breast — supple, yearn more, replace the old spectacle with a new one, fresh-squeezed separation; being right about this is lonely, then you go unite with the others and from that search, we define the world, make it real again by looking at it and see it hasn’t changed, peopled with people driving cars by yesterday’s rules, eating media slurry, mainstream, their fingers trace the boxes and click to make mommy’s milk pop out

They hate you when you’re good, when you read their work in 12 seconds and call it spam and tell them if we’re going to say something about this topic, I’m going to have to write the script; a superior seeing mind hungry for penetration to all secrets, throw light on all secret societies, insist on integrity, destroy the separation of the worlds, make this place good and reign, a stern father happy to show men just how hard the world is, prepare them, thicken the skin, make them sweat and wring out ounces over the drain, to learn what they’re capable of; train warriors

the Golden Knights at Oilers game 11/29/23
milk the seconds
after the win
a man for before and after the win or loss
a system to catch everything
consuming all intensity remaining

pleasant disagreements of preferable weaknesses
predilections.

i am staring down others’ throats in these Notes; all it means is i’m open and here

become the state that tortures mothers and change yourself — submit to the changes

resolve your sovereignty alone

drawn to what’s like me but worse

there will be no feminine consolation

dyke bar word of mouth invite only

a pulverizing totality
fit me for a pedal

pedal to the floor-touch your toes fit
cute enough blondes addicted right to the computer and the shined hierarchy of mediocrities and selfish players it hides
penetration always terrifying costing (coating) everything

can someone fit me for a veil?

anyone else got the pulverizing clarities?
god turned the love up like we asked
now we shield ourselves with poems
don’t spill salsa on your laptop
too much excitement and aliveness;
thank god for not being there yet
so i seek another distance to cross
understanding yourself burns quietly
later, after the end of the movie
to know all movies are in the shape of this one
all stories are the same; now the only problem is this world; desire and pacing, ready to collapse the timeline — two bodies [is] where you come from

put the pedal to the floor-touch your toes fit

so whose aloneness and yearning is louder (louderhamilton’s)
hamilton’s (haim) (hair) dream scenario

apple device as cactus crown
speaks inside a clown
you become

salvation sanctions
https://twitter.com/caitoz/status/1500821119531913216

solar sanctions
fulfilling client wants

text twice a day
enough to know you’re thinking about each other
manifesting it
i wanna act normal

the flight into the sun
stop running away
speaking of little minutes
all gates are open and i see

news on who took the crown rules everything between the people’s ears / and there is no other world; get in there; land

really enjoyed and appreciated the conversation with Terry and seeing the Apple campus, thanks
one of his sons is a trained jazz saxophonist who now teaches music

Keith Lewis:
I’m having lunch with Ron Williams today.

Geoffrey Lewis:
Our house was Tim’s first call when his mother was asleep at the bottom of the pool, that figured prominently in my book for a while, still a good story

I bet my mother was beautiful in just a bra swimming down trying to save her, as good as any Greek sculpture

alienated majesty books, 29th and Guad
all day tuesday
https://www.instagram.com/17_yrbrood/

saturday night / sunday morning
4–8 / 11–4
C.

swore
whore swine
entangled futures
smiling devils
drowned

i tore my muscle, it’s a permanent scar
entrenched listener, so indentured
loves the game and the country and the endurance, Jimmy Johnson reaching 80 and inducted into the Hall of Fame

The girls are active now; Sword Health is a brand the men gather around to march out from and return to, slouching toward Olympus where the mirrors are clear and the stats are accurate

Hallucinating mimicries, men becoming gods onscreen, changing the worms inside them, self-administered cognitive behavioral therapy via algorithm and taste, God behind the controls of what we see, spinning our stories of need and want, animating our footsteps upon the photographed and monitored grid — sacred, holy, not for sale yet we sell because money is the masculine plug for lack, frigidity, lucidity, iciness, frivolity, mediocrity, these nouns and verbs we are and do; saying will be wild today in the marketplace of recognition and memory, commitment and promise, signing contracts and handing over money for services rendered

literally (virally) living his best life on a farm
riding around on the gator
men enlist machines on earth for thrills
and a story about themselves and their progress

wanna get wrecked, safely?
flexing and breathing; Maddie is so hot and she exists only in this neighborhood; goth, dark, funny, cool — maybe not as elitist ; a woman for whom New York is not foreign, trampled territory; elitist in the way I am

he’s extremely comfortable as a brain in a jar
as devious as an asshole but kind and unassuming, impeccable upstairs; aware that he’s doing his trauma, aware of what the world is

matching rat pack truckers (hats)

we haz hats would be a fun brand
wiped
Apple sucks in the soul, purifying, a religious movement; the grid of competition is the father we needed: be beautiful and smart enough, aware enough of money and definition, of “older execs”
ageism is the war

rat pack asterisk

who are you performing for?
who puts up the guardrails?

the epoch is swarming with characters each of whom I have complicit emotional turbulent affairs with, under the hood in my imagination

interwoven desire and behavior matrices
under a flag guarded by obedience out there
unseen from the quiet center
heartbeats cost murder as it’s arranged today

ownership is the game to win; owning eyeballs on your own stage — a brand, a fanbase, customer base

watching consanguinities try to make a match
the blockchain of illuminated losers
retch and vomit to clear the space
to connect

Lucy please be still and hide your madness in a jar / it will follow you