VOID AS A VERB

Bassically - Tei Shi

i c u betaz

crouchin down like
freckles
girl

reckless measured bur
roughs


ten thir
ty

droppin

like join us
gotta lotta fun
cookin--

bushwick online

hehe

meteors

meteors

ladybugs swarm the ceilings

german shepherds

torn pancreas

the herbs from her garden

severed arm & foot,

flowers blooming in November, funnel a hose out the window to water them.

wind

remodeled bathroom

poetry as a source of comfort

human death as animal death

choreography of the wrist of the mouth of the face

humming bird

ashes

Telomeres: TTAGGG

Seven meteors fell across my face in the last five days I saw you.

You were not your curled chemo body, you were radiating your self deeper into us

& changing our DNA, the unexpected reaction once cortisol dread,

Telomeres shortened, we waited malnourished, separate, chromosomes frayed sticky.

Exiting, you sublimated unready, collected

in     the thick fog that would have been outright cinematic

to anyone not in shock.      Mirrors in German Shepherd eyes,

I am positive I told you how much I love fog. 

How you’d love us walking in it.

not held but by atomic force, to one another.

This is me watching Charles Bukowski on YouTube & doing something more traditional.
Here I am totally just reading a poem & letting the words speak for themselves.
This is in direct response to the phrase 'ill educated'

with typos.

Run Joe - Louis Jordan

2wo 4eads

Get to the Midwest mid-collapse, disconnect, all head-down in silos, proximity intros, intos, what you into? Tissue-pocketed seed. 

  

Don’t wait until bloated with pop culture bits of Google detritus confined to Rascals, pallid faces downcast, scoliosis-hunched screenwise, horn at the base of the skull, scroll, personal highways through fingerprinted windshields, shrink into expanding blue-glo,  

  

dildos from fleshlights, strap-ons from asses—unseen trash bag bottoms rupture, bloom, accumulate flotsam islands that press deeply into ocean, dissipate insidious, chemical, surge, seventy percent push inland.  

  

Market bodies as processors, absorb terabytes, synthesize static to form as coasts flood, traffic slows, supply chained high heels thru litter tornados; not get-to-know but friended monosyllabia. Ice breaks up grey soap-foam sea, learns naught but personalized fictions broadcast by satellites. Turn your eyes toward a heatmap of sky—  

  

moons reflecting screen prompts of suspect dictation. Clustered people hives, inverted narrative in Neptune’s bloodfilth eye, rendered in digitized cliffs of silver trees that weep pixels of garbage.  

  

We watch a new island encroach this bay over bites of mercurial fish.  

<<LOOK THERE, A NEBULA OF STYROFOAM COOLER. IS THAT A DECONTAMINATION SUIT? THESE BEACHES’ COLLECTIONS, PILED PLASTIC CHILDREN’S TOYS. SOMETHING TO EAT IN ALL THIS WORTH.>>  

-- 

You were my online hook-up & you left me under a silently singing TV, in a sonority of metal motors, the organic hum of cars, air conditioners, ring of refrigerators, knock of uneven fans, gasoline leaf blowers pushing dust, hard drive hums, underground rumbles & always construction. You left the caps lock on my keyboard, mopped up with my happy face t-shirt   

  

came down from Mario clouds on Whitney walls, left grinding mustaches for opposing wheat rows breadbasketed, all gearshot transmission down corn-absorbed roads—cicadas drown our drone no more—edging the drive-thru lust of finance.  

  

I regret that I do not remember the blackout, exited the moment you came, saw a window not glowing but clear & turned to your device, the sliding glass. I was in it. I don’t remember if we spoke German or English or the ultrasonic hiss of department store security systems.  

  

Soft, present, safe, the breadbasket lies flat, Mongolia has hardly moved. Only landfill ski hills yet piled & pushed fear-based, surveilled, pregnant with toxic rats yet contained.  

 -- 

Still does the sun, diluted by haze, ripple in grass over geneticized tassels to turn to syrup, fuel, pigfeed churned through a gut fed to polite,  hospitable people who float flimsy over din of synthetic others speaking of others, the honest testament of trash in humidity. Rivulets of contamination, shallow plumes of grey puncture   

  

disproportionate binary, phones one must still flip.  

  

Imagine yourself anywhere else & fully present, without an icon below your eye. Winged ants at the end of spring find home in red earth. The physicality of leaves sold droll liberation of a drive, nothing but the sound of cicadas through windows unrolled as butterflies smash on plasticized glass let the world roll before you. 

Found from long ago: "V"

--worry for a disappearing sugar cube,
l'absinthe, green and slow, takes syrup through slotted spoon.
Anise, fennel, strong pulls
"Oh, the smell, enjoy the smell;
strong pulls
will do you well,
fervent, disfigured
the strong pulls" you implore.

Fear, ice fountain
crystals like dandruff
"dissolve,"

A parting gift,
match to grit--

I am cloud//I am inside.
firm with receiver--
We could grow plants in air!

Regrets

life of no regrets noble to nature--
what you stole from your friends,
admitting at least the lies, and to yourself--

//selfies fall through your narrative;
enablers, your well-wishers, steer you farther from truth.
The privilege to live with no regrets,
white man, unlearned narcisist, sociopaths don't learn,

but we listen, and in all this 'unfairness,'
(the word you taught us)
it's the only thing we have
that you cannot afford,
white, digital, oilman.

Pollution

My fingers these past weeks have smelled like burning hair/metal. Why?

Tonight I'm going to sleep in fear & frustration, anxious over deaf heads packed with cotton, who confuse bravery with obstinance. I am an onion skin pulled by a dull knife through deepening layers that fall apart when sliced. My face slides across the computer screen, I feel its human warmth & my open eyes see you're a feed. The split hair of a country gone capital-digital, impossibly individual. I wanted to text you about this but it's too late. I wanted to call the pastor who studies evil. I wanted to connect to someone real like talk to my dad, to get those pics from some hookup, to just have a mind cradled in a deliberate body to hold & understand my intention. Tonight I need a communication free of persuasion or fear. The root of all evil is fear. The root of all fear is unknown, and those who refuse to know. 

it's

more dealing with how to be this drunk than real things.
Booze lets you embrace the grey space without denying yr polarity. 

"I am so glad I can be your front porch"

You said
you
like

to look out,
over your
garden
and watch the
cars


pass.

Some
of you
was still
in the bowl.
I

used
it as well
and sent us
down pipes together.

Perception Management

how do we handle
reality?

underchin angle
of camera phone,

the face folds
into itself.

Gay

actin like a man, w/yr noise & body
a fuck commodity
we turn 31

a narrow challenge. 

'THEE RVVR' - |¢|

'Political Suicide' - N.i.l.8

something like,

check the basement door

inside the room
just like a tomb
take a deep breath in the stench
as you apply the perfume
go sit and stare at the boy
go sit and gaze at the girl
go on and laugh at them all
pick up a wig to unfurl

so amazed you're so amused with yourself 

pick up a needle or pick 

take it out on somebody else

political suicide
he won't know what to do

politician and homicide

he won't know what to do

a politician in jail
what do you think
he's gonna do

walk the street with the mind frame of a child
a politician at large in which we all can confide
the vermin down on the street the sniper up in the air
the carcass of the victim the way they all stare
no comment at present time
election year coming up
keep off the record try to keep them shut up
but this dirt is deeper than any mud slinging before
deeper than shallow graves

check the cellar door

so amazed you're so amused with yourself
pick up a needle or pick 

take it out on somebody else 

political suicide
he won't know what to do

politician and homicide

he won't know what to do

politician perversion mind snap
a schizo null and void negation denial pretend

avoiding
no comment
political suicide

slightly corrected from http://www.switchdrops.com/, the best n.i.l.8 fan site.

A Poem

so thin


it















blew










away






























.

*GON WRITE SOMETHIN THICC NOW*

Cancer

has no flavor,
insidious as it is unthinking.

The 'last generation
of orcas'

is a marketing ploy.

Growths filigree
our population, burn.

Poisonfruit

as taste of sharp strawberry
gives way to slow blueberry
fear turns to anger

WWIII BEGAN IN SYRIA AND ENDS WITH NO REGARD TO US

N|¢|<∀

⏳

eons but nothing to a bristlecone pine

churned into the abyss of history
a story to page thru, inconsequential 

tbh

no female
i beersquinting
& sometimes animated
television
caught her--
eyes

hey, just wait--
to listen.
fucken done
tryna say.

TRAPPIST-1

Found some planets;

while our land burns
& tgirls have to find

somewhere else to pee

there are those who complain about plugging in the USB port wrong more than half the time, and those who realize the symbol is always facing up

up 47 stories
over 53rd street
you're swaddled
in a canvas sack

you slide
in yr glass coffin
overhang

o ventilation
lavender

feathers pumped
canvas
zipped over face

shush of
traffic

turn over inside
don't think about money

White female tennis grunt. 

'And if it comes to it,' I'm bored. 

'Red, White & Blue, in Red'

human privilege is the right of choice
& urge to learn—

o the money
you funnel up

no one will take your bullet
billionaire
fuck

experiment 216: pipeline

funneltunnel, face to face
your skin clearly 24 years old

& i love yr hair, o--
fitting between cruelties
of our times & cohort effects
i forget my tumescence is mine,
like worrying about it even happening
this hall of slabs
cantor warning, imam floating
proxemic.

are we divided?
you scatter as i slide
in shapeless sex.
digital smile in pixels
i touch,
buffer & roughen, blink alcohol down
& you’re smoother than before;
my ingrown hairs, bumpy thighs,

scratch a mosquito bite.
Blood center pooling
in coconut oil,
a hair springs out.

I got naked in the parade of bag pipers cut my body with the glass that was thrown at us & wiped my blood all the fuck over him before the police tackled me.

In the face of a Fear, castigat ridendo mores.

Joy unshaded by fear's an exercise
of bravery, disciplined rebellion
an existence of greater compassion,
love in the face. a necessity carved
from monolith wealth's deceptive marble
so sumptuous but for frigid baroques,
but barriers boasting shadows of shame,
no caress, no one's friend, a soft mommy
whose love through all your petulance somehow
grows for you.
          Embrace, take broken dad down.

We few who align in freehealing care--
small perversities of understanding,
though our medicine cushion brains disown
radiation of ignorance, though ours,
violent division, ours, empathy
ours, man en masse, our grown-over system,
(the damn thing), ours, as discolored people,
whiteset beads unfeeling in currency,
eyes full of cash, crusted over with it--
all ours. Real is the man in our hearts.
Purple luna illuminates denial,
the false doors of regret, quantum being.
Her grace to hold our multitudes,
uphold whole vials uncracked of broken
sisters alike.
          No, there is no evil.

All unforeseen illnesses, yet-to-be
organ failures & obstructions. They drink
deeply. We drink because fuck it, we can
fuck even when our bodies won't work. Joy--
a shameless channel of motivation,
light to eschew fear's puckered ignorance,
its damning cacophony, its powdered
clown wig face made over in dementia,
bloated by the dull press of death's abscess
incapable to recognize absence,
dull palate of resistor embrace denies
& starves pulsating, capable brainstems.
Awareness, in joy--
           the flux of presence.

cebolla verde

to identify

my weak core

& surround it

with more

me

ajo verde

he is not polluted enough
with common things
a 'bubble' of gold
where the segregated
segregate further,
unfolding to weakness
and pain

Providence

be goddamned
if i'm a whiny do
nothing this yr