A ZigZag match box covered in candle wax. Made in
Indonesia. For sale only in France.
Close up on one watch a mouth speak.
An old suitcase. Homesick sprites.
"I shall win my kingdom, Rabindranath
BP 160 over 90 Bob should aim for.
Old sweepstakes tickets: "Sweet kisses"
"Sweet hugs" "I love you" "I miss you" on them
Sonia. Sasha. Peter and the Wolf. A macaw steps
right up. Steps right up.
Carnival 1974. Scratched up Ravi Shankar long
playing RCA Victor on the floor.
A house near kokers spits toucans from Main
Street to City Hall.
Eddie Grant & the Equals airy spirits Ba'ap
Mowsie and the rest don't dance to that.
"art," as "poetics"
the audience is them: Ba’ap, Mowise, pa, later Mom, later Bob,
sometimes Fazlah forces Khatoon too
terror when Lady Auntieman get force in Jack n’ Jill
surplus power of the condemned body gives rise to the
to the Gothic
the political field
punishment of the beyond
object of knowledge
not just any faggot
language theatre of
we jerk off I reread Kant
should be admitted
my body on the other side Mephistopheles power/knowledge might at
"Modern Soul" wow!
word last meal
to Walpole queer scream
squeeze as hero
say cheer the battymen
open fly afternoon
what should be abandoned?
did you say that? "the soul the prison the body
of suspended right"
a record of madness
using memory to force the joins
don't want to feel the splitcan't cry there heretearsfork
the fire next time,
according to Sister Brian, so I chase down ands
speak in Bahasa to get away
many more assalamwalaikums
and and and earth like this before “breathe”
grow your hair long the muezzins call
the sun that obvious shine watches head on shoulder we planned
in September to take a cab to the museum, there's no rain
we'd change the Wong Kar Wai we'd miss the monsoon completely meet
at the Door to the Great Mosque in Cizre walk with the Rod of Moses
can see me aching in another mid afternoon Turkish
(you will find him in a bowl of winged lions
Mazda that killing time wrapped up in sweaty Calvins
cruising park Ahabs)
affect a limp before you find me in Composition X make me laugh
we don't want ajumma to hear your yuk yuk Classicists in touch drunk
oh it's ok chingu wears friend in the great escape
button flys quick! quick! behind the Kandinsky you could host
an evening of erotica
(you could see Fuji from Tokyo though I never did
now let's get back to Seoul
I am bored of these jars from Peshawar)
develop an obsession with binoculars cross dress a neighbour watch him
Angie Dickinson standing by the Giacometti he always looks so great in
before DVDS you could find this on cassette in Shindongnegori Push!
in Montreal Gloria showing me how to heat up rice without a microwave
I used to spy on Etienne
(you never walk with me in Yeouido to see the cherry blossoms
hear ajoshi say some boys just wanna spend money on expensive cars
not you I'll tell him)
build a Sir Walter Raleigh effigy in a car park to set fire
why does what makes the red man red hanamannadunga feel so boyish?
and what's wrong with the Rothko you laugh at ablaze
some orange up there some red down here?
no I don't cheat on you when I go to the museum
except that time when I drank from the saucepan
(your uncle was a tea farmer he would send us the best tea
from Shizouka his friend Manu the best from Tanah Rata there's this
where the actress gives the actor a blowjob would you like
to go see the intellegentsia gasp?)
say all art remembers he turns tricks in the turban of Joseph
for example, on warm evenings while walking in the footprints of PBUH
he who will not be named PBUH just in case when I went on Umrah,
there was this prayer for you in your bent way, iron nails, I join you
dragons in central Anatolia I cut my hair between Safa and Marwah
(when we crossed the Han River
the running family without Richard Dawson
Gwoemul in the film in my brain
listen to it the sound of my piss
the river is full of my piss)
break the pink hearts apart waterfalls the coo coo roo coo coo
never shared with you so isn't it funny
all these hearts in front of the beaux arts? once, Bahram IV had this
I walked thousands of years into the past to
love o killing machine who wiped you clean at night? was it the king
in the spirit of all those queens on Homo Hill that made you
(I resisted his necklaces in agate glass gold Carnelian
matched the Portuguese check Dutch check English check
Japan a Staebrok Market in Melaka scarlet
fleets of UFOs above Fukishima look! I was born
approach Pavonis Mons by balloon send more pictures of you
earthquakes great winds fires famine
so think like Chagall the only peacock in all those mountains
make me dusty this passport is an elaborate lie
we only slowly grew west I keep postcards that say East Indian
typical coolie village upper Canada chingu the world
(are you a student of history he asks which never gets asked in Seoul
why is this insertion into the English Gatekeeper so sexy?
no poet of lost states scratches his head not just another eye drop
in the ocean)
by Night big letter here cause it's a character, old black magic Night
you lock out, spits
demons from its palms, Ali Baba Ali Baba, coughs up Mowsie, blood love
blood love, she is
Pa's mum, bloody she'll drag the bodies of the kids away.
she shows up in the Antonioni psych trip Ma is having in the living
room. I can smell
Tea for the Tillerman background.
when the kids take Pa away cry so hard for him Heaven spill over get
chase out by wood ants
so hard they look like Pa
Express Bus Terminal, Stall #3
:"my uncle a tea farmer the best from Shizouka"
:"Glenlivet in jeans disco much?”
: "B movie brain eaters at the Mun Hwa Sauna”
:"on a clear day we could see Fuji from Tokyo"
:"young people nowadays spend their money on expensive cars"
:"yabazabbah77 a stoic cummer before the 6am
: "mazurkas in the morning fucking around”
:"glory hole mouth”
: "sci-fi soju tongue slow down”
: "cufflinks straddle elephants la dadi la dada”
: "wild combos”
: "fought in Phuket before salat again”
: "sipping cocks and playing games”
:"such big hands Richard Carlson potato queens”
:"like Choi jin-sil if they catch Leslie Cheung in my mouth”
:"curious Osan tonight”
: "sweaty Calvins call cruising a good time”
“les quartre cent coups”/i thought i heard you say
it’s always some boy Genet will want to fuck
in ten years of so
shelved at Boite Noire
as the French New Wave
“goodbye fucking children”/even Louis Malle shows up
that’s some shit
I cried for hours
lights out lights up
Let’s go to Infidels
feed truffles to Truffaut
six pack eight pack
e trip avec avec avec up
to so long Marianne
Bob Fosse moves
we had friends in faded brown cords
nut huggers on the 55 St. Laurent
“I wanna see all my friends at once/ I wanna go
couldn’t wait to wake Fernando up
wouldn’t you like to be Guyana you?
be Guyana be be Guyana
are me “gonna take you higher”?
in the wrong place above Fernando’s
because I saw this film once [jeez why didn’t I ever fuck a side of beef?
why was it always the carrot up the bum?] or
I heard “I Just Wanna Know” slow jams radio to
stop those nights in Montréal
here, Bob brought Mom for le super-sexe Olympic
Aida St. Denis sup
here, Mark brought me for the
In those days, Pirate Jenny smoke some dance some
“that’ll learn ya!” Manhattans in the dyke bar
away from the mens let’s just kiss and say goodbye
[jeez I never got to say goodbye Auntieman Lady found a letter you
on the radio, after Reagan though, and Lou was right there were no
on Halloween for years] or
humid goodbye writes was i ever equatorial? i
ain’t got no believe you. some Caetano also.
Iqbal was a ball motorcycle Pride Punjabi comb,
right tight? [jeez
I saw this play once where Billy kept saying gay
without pets. Goldbloem Bogo racing through the apartment
Henri-Julien, why here? Why not a little farther up where they speak
drunk yes drunk we’d walk up Duluth screaming
push! Leolo! push! before hitting The Main the
hippies come out the hippies come
out in springtime [jeez there I’d go, open mad unlock the ancestors, hear them:
we’ve found you! we’ve found you!] or
I once read this book everyone became hypertelic
hard words I looked them up watched them exceed
passage watched them get to die
on dry land water what water? Crusoe used up
Caliban not again paradime [jeez and me
here trying this tongue like Cesaire like with all that sand? in the
wee wee, we
could scream the archipelago push bhai push squeeze your way out dash
the yourope equals Aziz collar back stud to Fielding] or
there was Billy beside ourselves, again belly
don’t wake Fernando oats snoring down
Edgar Mittelhozer’s Mount
The night you woke up again
leaving Hebrew Academy in Cote St. Luc someone assassinates you again
Art’s mother never got Dachau scratch out she head again
killed herself before he turned twelve like my brothers and I
these dreams of getting round up murdered do you remember the dirty
how Lauzon shows them? that we kept far away from the French again.
That night I read Edgar’s bone flute he could hear French & German
English & Italian but it is the tongues he could not identify “too
deaf ear to
describe” that made you a swastika & a frozen end & a song
& a dance
dead cabaret Sally Bowles faraway how push Leolo push echoes through
an empty bus station as Christopher Isherwood backs back into Britain
can you see that? & the cloak and dagger coating his cock
those boys still swimming bad hard bags along the Rhine Moselle Mosul
in California he’d resurrect wilkommen bring the music play back to
the fag ends.
Edgar spent a year here before the cold drove him back to Guyana
he was writing Kaywana “a degree of negro parentage”
in a cafe he told me “I am an offshoot” he told
“I am an offshoot of a Swiss-German plantation manager of the 18th
of a Frenchman from Martinique of an Englishman from Lancashire”
but that little black in me used to live somewhere near here maybe
to Bains Coloniale? Next door to the Family Robinsons?
We’d swim bad talk about the dream pull our trunks down at La Cite
low culture stoned, can you hear the drums
Fernando is listening even to Portuguese love songs next door bem
vinda in drag
where the orchestra leaves your troubles at the door
Pirate Jenny’s shoot em ups piled higher and higher in the “that’ll
learn ya!” countdown
escape routes the Indians like the Jews
Steve McQueen root root escape Uncle Faz he even got his mistress out
tell me again about Baumgartner through Bombay into Venice.
Edgar Mittelholzer’s Mount
Guyanese Interior, 1999
“He proceeds to infect an element of impending disaster and gloom into
the story by investing the natural surroundings with little touches of despair.
For example, the fireflies in their deadly, silent
dance heighten the vigilant aspect of the dark.”
A.J. Seymour on Edgar Mittelholzer’s My Bones and My Flute
all we one family argument]
Mittelholzer looking at the large mad words ad-
mixture in the palms of his hands
by the Corentyne
line up outside the slaughterhouse
black pudding blood
feeds Cuffy 23 Feb
fixings some Roger Moore.
They did a good job when they mixed you from