Thursday, 31 December 2009

new year's resolutions 2010

1. smoke only roll-ups

2. taste blood and guts in everything

3. get more sleep at more appropriate times

4. 20,000 words

5. read only one book at a time and start only one book at a time: for example, i shall finish "beyond black" before opening "the death of the heart," no matter how tempting the synopsis seems

6. keep rockin' the quiff

7. save (some) money

8. read up on greek myths, and casually slip intelligent-sounding references to them into conversation/writing

9. keep dancing like a shaman/drunk in public without fear or vomit

10. live strong always

11. regret/accept/continue

12. buy that marilyn monroe boxset i saw in hmv last week if it's still there as it was a really good deal

13. read more biographies

14. work on a new smile because my genuine smile leaves me looking like an unfortunate blind person also blighted by down's syndrome. however do not be afraid to genuinely smile (and thus look like a spastic) if having THAT wild a time

15. self-respect is more fun and more cool than loss of dignity at the expense of vodka/men/enemies

16. write stupid shit like this either more or less often, i'm not sure.

Thursday, 17 December 2009

something written slightly drunk at 2a.m. last nite

And the tree say,
And the wind rushing
      thru them, repeats it.
And the stray cats
      they howl,
      buh-bye, buh-bye, buh-bye,
As they fuck and break my sleep.

You in my ear,
      "Goodbye," your voice
      slick with previous tears,
      slick like oil.

Your hand upon my shoulder,
      brief as fireworks,
      did not linger.
Your fingers trace
      no patterns down my neck.

Your eyes whisper it,
      and the traffic outside
      bellows it:

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

For this is the end,
      the final crack in the mirror.
I look forward to
      seven years of bad luck.
This is our final resting place,
      is it?
This, a sad cafe
      of chattering families
      of red and white linoleum
      in a building I do not

Why did you bring me here?

If you were to have said
      your piece, your bullet,
      before, or an hour later,

I would not
have ordered a starter.

Monday, 14 December 2009

above all else, xmas in salisbury 09

Very brief entry: something I wrote rapidly earlier and really liked the sound of. God knows -

"A lover, a playmate, the pioneer of our dark sciences that I, ever bashful, fell head-first into. I crash like airplanes and RW is all of these things. The pieces of July slot together and I see his face again. I linger, I remain, sweating and sleepless through another night. A different city, a different town, and always the same. He was a prince and a dog, and I a feral child. Oh RW, beatified by the rain on his face and my hallucinations of romance and trembling hands."