Quote

Schedule

Hurray! Remember steaks and wine, that…
thing we said we’d do with us and you, remember? Well,

I’d say it’s way past time we’d met,
sometime this week, I said. She said,

well, lol, that sounds great. Let’s meet, yeah, definitely,
I’d not forgotten. Lets schedule
to schedule some time
this week. Well,

no rush, I said.

We’ve time for other things to schedule before that.

She had not said, who knows
how many plans the little future will bring? How many humans and plans
this little room can hold, with its little us and its little yous, over there,
right there, where you belong?

Keep in touch. Touch often, you say and I do.

סיני מיני ס

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תחילת המאה ה-21. ילדות מוקדמת.
עיניים בכל מקום.
מאז היה צעיר, יצחק נתיב ראה
בעולם
אוסף של זוגות עיניים.

מה שראה הפה של זוגות אלו
לא יכול
להשתוות
למה שהעיניים דיברו.

“…אנו מדברים תמיד על כליאה. כשתלמה פנו אליי,
ליצור פרסומת לדגני הבוקר ‘סינימיניס’
בדמות ריבועי ‘סינימיניס’ עם עיניים שמלקקים זה את זה,
הדבר הראשון שעשיתי היה
להפוך זאת לחמוד.

הדבר השני שעשיתי היה לנסוך
באותה חמדה את ההרגשה
הבלתי ניתנת לתיאור
כמה אנו כלואים ברצון שלנו
למתוק
שנותנים לנו,
לא משנה מאין הוא מגיע…”

מה שהתאים לתלמה במסרים
האל-מודעים שניסו להעביר.

פסטיבל רוק

אוף…
אתה יודע מי היו שנה שעברה?
מיוז, ת’ה פרוטיג’י… אלט ג’יי!
את אומרת
ועינייך מחפשות
בין העננים שספרת
את הכבשים שהרוח פיזרה

אם היינו רוצים להיות ממש מגניבים,
אתה שומע?
זה 17 יורו ללכת לקמפינג סייט,
אז היינו קונים 3 ימים ב-NOS

פלוס קמפינג
והיינו קונים איזה טנט מגניב
והיינו משתזפים,
יש שם איזה ים ליד.

ואנחנו מתחילים לספור,
רדיוהד, טיים אימפאלה, ליסבון.

City

Amazing, the city huts slowly unfold their veritable lengths
imagined wider than street oceans, broader than Sistine shoulders,
transfused into height, they scrape the sky ground raw red;

And every tree had been as quick as mountains about them,
as ancient as growth; the bushes, they swam up
the buildings’ weird arched backs and died and lived, bringing water where
there had been only old dust; there, the trees flowered

And the clouds sang, for the wind, it passed through them
and was heard;

The buildings’ glasses dissolved, the peopling eyes showed
everywhereon,
where city’s kind
metroed from life to life, without the possibility of
a stop;

And in city’s center, you would come to realize,
for you are a grain of her as she is a dream of you,
that you had stopped moving
only because everything would grow
slow for you

Its thought kiss.

writing about writing

since this

the most dangerous distance, between your tongue and the

sounds it makes, which so resemble a certain nightmare, that you

can almost mix the sounds to hold and release its form out of your mouth

and into this world, creating a monster to show around, defeating it time and again

out of size and into these small, small winds.

 

you chime as you go. it is the privilege that you give love so that
it would, maybe, give you back. love isn’t human, it won’t recognize fair exchange
and perhaps you shall never return.

rage poems

To Morko, Aveled, Aichi, Melda, Darbar, Meishe, Aiel And All Other Accomplices In Pottery

 

things to say after watching a modern slang adaptation of shakespeare’s slang comedy of errors and realizing what culture is or rage poems or stay

 

we aren’t a fucking joke and
if we were, we wouldn’t be funny
to scrutinize places in people or notice the patterned tempo of their gait- that’s fucking with the world – who’d
laugh at that?! noone at noon chuckling slowly like the rhythm
of a cummings poem falling apart into seamen, all a-sink; no, we are
aparts meant to speak mouth to mouth
to look as if we are kissing while blowing air
and beating each on others’ chests for consciousness

 

a hot air balloon’s last thought or the poet speaks

this world spits on me and what i do especially
in winter whistling to sharply scare and seduce me
through
with rock sharp people huddled to a pin

 

how to keep demons in check

run me down while i’m still
breathing your human heavy exhaust. you stand like cars in the middle of the street
to run me up with calls, talk and names, whose job is to make me familiar. make me demon.
still. breathing.

The porn poem sequence

It is as you say

Now that we are writing punctual porn poems in the future
we will always be performing them into flesh will always be full filling
our fantasies with the abdead smell of ourselves shooting
from one mouth to another in the quickstep of the falling star, earth.

More than never, we will be repeating this
movement, gracefully mean, women will be translating,
men transletting our
new need for
nourishment

will stop figuring out vagina with residue sperm and
bow and bow and bow until we have formed full circle
our understanding we’ll be performing this until we are bluntly bereft, bare but
Donne.

Rhythm

now that you have come
to the realization that you like me love me
to give speech to spread legs connected mouths
offer hush water where it is needed
would you care
to smother me while fucking me out of breath
ing too deeply, just
abandon me
and find the move
meant re
die re
breach and ass
amble