Arbitrareum: Of Right-Forking Trails

An older man pushes laps
On his cart.
The wheels are rickety
But the sides shine of freshly polished aluminum.
The umbrella reads in red and green: “Apollo’s Pizza.”

A woman’s back is covered in earth and briars.
She crunches forward, gasping,
And smacks into a man’s face.
She coughs and sobs,
Clinging to the fabric, still at half-an-arm’s-length.
She sees the nametag sewn onto the shirt
And sputters, “Thank you, Apollo.”

A plastic bottle is crushed
Among its comrades.
Weight bears down and builds slowly.
In a few days, the pressure will release,
Only to be replaced 1,000-fold.
As of now, its label is split down
The words “Aqua” and “Apollo.”

A man arrives home
From a full day’s walking.
He stands on a mat
And closes the door behind him.
He tosses his coat to the banister.
It drapes evenly in half.
He tosses his hat at the banister.
It lands in the other room.
He grunts as he bends to untie his boots.

Starvng and Useless invades Cambridge, Ma!

Starving and Useless will be hosting a reading at The Outpost in Cambridge, Ma. on Saturday July 25th at 3 P.M. Entry is free but we would appreciated donations in order to help us produce more books and to keep us on our feet. We hope to see all of you there!

Info:
Saturday July 25th.

OUTPOST 186 : 186 1/2 hampshire st. cambridge ma 02139
http://zeitgeist-outpost.org/

3 P.M

Free admission with a suggested donation.

The Tea Notes: When Skies Are Gray (Unformated)

The A.A meeting next door looked especially festive this evening. The church welcomed every abuser in the area for a night of small talk and guidence at the hands of yester-users named Frank and Jack. They park their Kias, sip their iced coffees and lit one more smoke before the service begins. As I watched outside the window I couldn't help but feel like I've never been more welcome in a place of God.I had one beer and smoked a little grass, knowing perfectly well I had to drive. I managed to maintain a certain enlightened level of insobriety and for a while, I actually wore a smile. That all went out the window with a song. I won't bring up the name or the artist, it's meaningless anyway. What does matter is what it did to me. That song, so normally beautiful, provoked a complete numbness of my glee. With eyes wide opened, I dreamt of city streets, hot tubs, clothes lines, seconds before secure slumbers, Her. But that needs to end. I've concluded that chapter in my life, though much later then she. I just can't figure out how to move on. It's like your first cloudy day. How do you react when the sunshine is gone? She was my sunshine; my only sunshine.I left just as the meeting was gettng out and was approached by an older gentlemen. He commented on how he liked my guitar and smiled and seemed generally pleased with how his life was going. I smiled through it too, this time forcing my lips to curl. I couldn't even listen to what he was saying nor did I care. He got to go home to nice weather.

The Rain (Unformated)

The rain before the first day of summer has an aroma unlike any jarred, bottled or jellied fragrence I have ever taken in. It's the smell of smoking pine logs, ghost town concrete, fresh sheets being shared early on in an evening. I took a mere break from the weezing of my out of date air conditioner to step outside and destroy my lungs and there it was; Waltzing gently through the neighborhood on a cape cod breeze. The porch was splattered with the translucent tears of Mother Earth, turning each two by four into a bland Pollock rip off. I trust that I was the only one who found it so beautiful. I leaned against it's rotten railing and closed my eyes as I took a deep breath through my nose. The air rolled down the back of my throat and I could taste the season, so rich and filling. It was then that my loneliness had finally caught up with me.I snubbed out my cigarette and headed in, knowng I would go right back to lying in my bed of bad memories; And I did. Summer nights of long ago replayed in my mind of when she would curl up in my arms under my drug rug, seeking warmth from the industrial strength A.C. One night in particular, she closed her eyes and clumsily spoke "I'm so comfortable in your arms". As my brain brought forth this moment I assumed I had repressed, my eyes swelled and the tears started to fall. I was suddenly paralized, unable to move neither my limbs nor my eyes as I sobbed hystericlly."Jesus Christ" I thought. "Pull it together."But it was useless. Her diamond ring fingers were still wrapped around my heart. My first instinct was to reach for the bottle and push those tears back with a firery slug of Dominican rum but I stopped myself. Tonight, there would be no use of artifical harmony to ease my natural emotion. Instead, I would simply sit, think and cry as my shakey and breathless voice would ask walls, "Why did she leave me?". What a pitiful sight; A grown man, weeping and pleading with an unresponsive memory. This is what my own, foolish heart has done to me. I doubt I will ever be in love again.So here I sit now, with moist cheekbones and terrible sight, still broken hearted, snug under my blankets, wishing some girl was here, drinking my rocks glass of rum.....forever being romantic.

Of Hip Hop and Country (For Victoria)

She was beautiful and quiet
as we drove through a tangerine midnight.
"If only the rear view stares
were for me" I thought."instead of those speeding
pick up trucks with out of state plates."
I shut the blinds of my eyes
and I pictured an evening;
Red white with a cheap name,
pink roses with a kind fragrance,
warm sheets to hold us both
while we hold each other.
Watching the tall and short candles
flicker inside the iris as our lips meet.
It would be perfect.
Perfect to fall into dreams
with her
after kisses on the nose
and laughs at absurdity.
It's difficult to explain,
especially when I try to say her name
and my stomach becomes a womb
for butterflies
and my heart works overtime.I
t seems so recent
that her smile could lift me
but I can't lie to myself
or to anyone
when I say I float
when she walks into a room.
And then it got colder in the backseat
knowing the breakfast sun
would come into my bed
and only wake me.
It would be another day
of meaningless work
and fucking up
because she's all you can focus on.
She looked in the mirror again
and for a second,
I think those precious eyes
finally saw me.

Honey Chords

Honey chords
from sticky voices
dripping in my ears.
The words are hand picked;
Very particular and churned.
Sweet and savory
with humorous accents.
Once inside,
each molecule of sound
begins to paint
animationsscenes of beautiful women with egg yoke
or goose feather hair.
They might even sketch tomorrow.
Where will I be?
Oh.
There.
Air?
Please don't stop kissing me
with your incense mask.
It's more about the noise
then the feeling.
Repeat.
Repeat:
"Then the feeling."
It's more about the noise
with your incense mask.
Please don't stop kissing me.
Air?
There.
Oh.
Where will I be?
They might even sketch tomorrow
hair
or goose feather.Scenes of beautiful women with egg yoke
animations
begin to paint
each molecule of sound.
Once inside,
with humorous acents,
sweet and savory,
very particular and churned,
the words are hand picked.
Dripping in my ears,
from sticky voices:
Honey chords.

New Unfinished/Untitled Poem

When I find myself in Jesus' bloodline,my eyes glow
brilliantly.I have become the Sun
that breaks clouds,
warms pools,
burns, burns,burns!
There are sensations
of marshmellow fluff
and strawberry skies.
Jam slides
that breathe
when you go down
through the heavily settled thick
rich with pinecone stink!...

In utero coma begins.
Mother's milk symphonies
muffled by atmosphere casing.
Streams that applause
in blessedness.
Peach galaxies
with fuzz.
Immaculate comfort.

Books!

Starving and Useless Presents: Toxic Inpublication Vol. I is now available. They're 40 pages of poetry from Me and Todd. We're selling them for 5 bucks. If you live a distance from either of us, we can mail them to you, but we have to charge you the s&h, unfortunately.

Naturally, the money is going to future books. So spread the word on these ones, because the more we sell, the more books we can put out, including your work, if you want.

been a while......years actually.

Sweetest Martina, wont you let me pay the tab?
Wild rose of the county Claire, Take my last Jackson for a cab.
and if we never meet again, for an hour you meant everything.
So go see the world but please remember me when you get back.

seemingly endless, anticipation.
will i hear that angelic voice again?
Chalk it up to Irish luck. He will never get that girl, in the end
and mother said, "Those Irish girls will only break your heart."

Oh my darling watering hole, please keep that pint glass full.
For i got nothing but time and patience, waiting for my Martina to show
and even those mother said "Those Irish girls will only break your heart"
Its hard to sleep with out my Martina by my side
So goes another 6 months waiting sleep deprived.

---------------

When the death man comes, in the cold dark night.
I'll make sure he knows, We dont like his kind.
If he gets to you, I'll be by your side.
I'll hold your hand to the otherside
and when heaven's gate opens up so wide
and the trumpets blare, we gotta make it inside
and im not a man with concrete beliefs but
i aint done that much wrong
i aint killed nobody

singing so it goes my soul cries freedom
so it goes my soul cries freedom

when the sky falls down we stand our ground, we aint scared
when the horsemen ride, when they're in sight, we just stare
cause their aint no use in fighting
if we aint got the time left
aint no one wrong or right
in heaven

PBR (unfinished)

Bless those who can dance
in the face of tomorrow.
Bless the hearts that yern for arms..
Bless the lightless streets
with loud foot steps.
Bless the empty cans
that yawn.
Bless the TV
and its lulliby static.
Bless the ones
who do not respond.
Bless the bedsheets
that know no flesh.
Bless all of our
boring walls.
Bless the curtains
that hide our secrets.
Bless our voices
that whisper truth.
Bless the hair
that grows on chins.
Bless each child
that never knows love.
Bless the playgrounds
where history repeats.
Bless the class rooms
where games are played.
Bless the blackboard
that speaks to the deaf.
Bless the text books
that lie updated.
Bless a woman
whose lips leave stains.
Bless the changing rooms
full of uncertainty.
Bless the jeweler
that holds together marriages.
Bless the diamond rings
blood was shed for.
Bless myself
for being a fool.
Bless myself for believing in good.
Bless myself for hurting myself.
Bless you for the spring.

Dont forget.

 I remember young love.

late nights

short sentences

passed back and forth like name calling

and double takes from across the room

I remember tough shit

no heat

yes ma'am

bed without dinner

if you were lucky enough 

to have one, or another, or both.

 I remember feeling young

drinking too much 

caring too little

about anything anyone said

and "fuck you" if they looked your way


now what is there?


a quick fuck

with just friends

a full stomach 
 
payed for with plastic

permanent academic mental fucking vacation

a brain massage just to get the juices flowing!?

and i still live

 with new love
 
in tough shit

with no dinner 

and i drink too much 

and i care too little

and i envy no one

It dies at dawn

There is a portrait
breathing inside my mind.

I'm thinking of you.

Your eyes like emeralds.
Your hair like silk.
Your lips like orchids.

You whispered like a saint
"I bring good luck".
and just as softly,
we kissed.

You are utopian
in touch
in beauty
in words
in voice.

Hathor
come to life
twenty two years ago.

Two glasses of wine.
Two people.
Two hearts.
One feeling.

You need no work.
You are you.

I fell for one of God's creations
in a smokey bedroom
at Midnight.

Eyes like Death (unfinished)

I fill up on toxins
and expel waste.
I am an American disease.
I've got holy lungs
and headaches
and my own elixer
to keep doctors away.
I speak in coughs
and hacks
and I shake hands
with palms that should be disinfected.
My throat is paved with tar.
My cavavities are stuffed with nicotine.
My fingers are yellow and weak.I
'm the proud owner of a burning heart,
a wrinkled liver
and back pain.
I run a pharmacy for myself
out of my bed room
and medicine cabinet.
A bartender
of red and green syurps.
Wrong turn relationships
hand me prescriptions
for mile long cigarettes,
one after another.
I'm a failure at sleep
and a champion of being over tired.
I am an American disease
with eyes like Death.

Any feedback on my writing, positive or otherwise would be greatly appreciated.

Family Tree

i squint through the cracks of my awkwardly bent glasses

mangeled from a run in with a man named jack, or was it jim?

maybe jose, johnny. a common name like that.

If you have met this ghost before you know who i mean.

 the dark figure at the end of the bar

that stares you in the eyes and then slowly creeps up behind you to empty your wallet

and rob you blind of your senses.

usually i can avoid him for a few days,

a week maybe

but lately he has been coming around more often.

breathing warm air, this time

down my neck. reeking of broken promises 

and winstons, and breathmints

in one ear and out the other.

and straight to my head.

Buffalo Bill's bargain outlet.

Ed gein should have worked in retail. he was really quite a tailor. 

He could move out of his farmhouse and buy a yacht,

drink out of coconuts , not human skulls.

why make suits out of women when you can make suits for women?

Maybe his mother didnt love him.

Riddle (a haiku)

Hoffa had it right

even the dogs cant find him

wish i had his luck

Deja Vu

1 (The Flat)

i woke up at the crack of noon,
and poured some sludge from my chipped coffee pot..
i turned on the frosted 60 watt sun that lit my cell and listened to a cockroach tango
move gracefully along the floor.. It was hotter than a methlab in hells kitchen.
"I wish i had a window to open"
i thought to myself. I put my dreams of airborne escape on the back burner,
and tried to cook up a way to get out of that fucking place.

2 ( The hallway)

After a hearty breakfast of chinese take out leftovers, i pulled on two dirty
mismatched socks ,a pair of shoes i ripped off from the funeral home, and my ratty peacoat,
i stumbled half drunk out my front door. the loyal dog piss stain was there again as if
to say
good morning master. I always wanted a pet...closest i ever got was a box of "chicken"chow
main
from chang's.
as i walked down the hall, the sound of someones screaming misguided abortion wails
for food... i ate everything i had., so i kept walking.


3 ( The Elevator)


Once again the stairs are out of order, neighbors say its a crime scene or somthin'.
none of my buisness,as long as it doesnt leak under my door.
so i forgot my mornining excersise and take the elevator.it reeks of piss and shit and is
littered with taco bell wrappers and half eaten double cheeseburgers.
I pick one up and shove it into my pocket. that should last me through the week,
as long as that damn baby doesnt get it.
fucker.


4 ( The Street )

I walked out the revolving door of the complex on 6th street and thought
" cant get much closer to hell than this" it was 17 blocks to the train station but
the walk to the bar was a short as a schoolgirls skirt, and twice as easy to find,
especially in this part of town.they were mostly drop outs now and
the lesson plan was a bit different. Down the street a dear john throws a jane doe
against a wall.he screames at her with the back of his
hand leaving her payment across her lipstick smudged face.
that was his plan all along. "i hope she learned her lesson" he whispered.

5 (The Pub)

It was quarter past 2 when i arrived at Phil's for my liquid lunch.
The air was stail like the bar mix. pretty busy for a monday afternoon
i remember thinking. So i sat down next to no one, one away from everyone else,
on the far side of the bar,

and counted my quarters. the man next to me talk to a waitres about his missing dog
"what can i get with this?" i asked the bartender.
To that she replied "I have a half eaten double cheeseburger,and you have just
enough for that" I sheepishly took it and slid out of my seat. "keep the change"
i said politely. i left quietly with my other half.


6 (The Lobby)


when i arived back at chateau Alighieri i was awestruck by what i was witnessing.
The lobby was paited like one of Pollock's ,in shades of anger and wrath,and wrapped
tediously in yellow tape like a late birthday present. I took the stairs. the sound of a
screaming child mis-carried through the halls like a church organ. I stopped and said a
prayer
and took a bite of my cheeseburger. i was whole. i slowly stumbled through a field of
blooming
waste towards my doorway. i walk inside and shut the door tight behind me.
i slide the lock. i turn the key.i flip the switch and the florescent light dances
above my head.
a perfect spotlight for a cockroach tango.

The Last Slam (with Todd's permission)

"I will use my pokeball
to try and catch 'em all"
the kid, I guess, seventeen--
I couldn't see too well from the back row--
recited at the podium.
About two minutes into his reading,
I burst out laughing.
"This kid's hysterical,"
I whispered to Todd, sitting next to me.
"It's so ridiculous, so ironic.
I mean, who presents
rhyming couplets about pokemon
as serious poetry?
It's fucking genius."
People looked back at me,
annoyed, even insulted.
I figured they were stuck up, stuffy.
They just didn't realize:
poetry can be funny.
I nudged Todd,
showing him that it's alright to laugh.
But even he tried to ignore me.
He thinks poetry is all cigarette smoking
and serious tones.
I leaned forward,
ready for the next rhyming punch line,
when I noticed that there was something odd
about the kid's face.
He continued reading,
"Articuno, Charizard and Pikachu
are waiting to go on an adventure with you."
Then I realized that it was his eyes that were off:
they were heavy set
and his forehead sagged down over them.
I whispered to Todd,
"Is something wrong with that guy?
His face is all screwy."
Todd snapped back,
"Yeah, that's because he's retarded."