laters
By Kervin | June 20, 2010 | 1 Comment
HEY EVERYBODY WE’RE MOVING TO TUMBLR BECAUSE IT’S FREE LIKE PIE
tyrannosaurusbear.tumblr.com
kbolts.tumblr.com
AND PROBABLY OTHERS WOO YEAH MINIMALIST HIPSTER NETWORKING
necessity for title = ruined perfection
By Kervin | June 15, 2010 | 1 Comment
“I’ll love you forever.”
“I’ll lock your door.”
baby powder sleeve blues
By Kervin | June 13, 2010 | No Comments
this website is dying, here, pretty soon
the body and the brain of it will lie
broken shambles, shampoo samplers
tar-stained paint dripping down yellow.
this website will have a funeral, soon
post rows lining a casket, lines stuffed
a harpy-slip of a transvestite father gripped
by his son’s inability to purchase
you, reader, will not be in attendance
as the url for the services
will not be listed
witness
By Kervin | June 2, 2010 | No Comments
the cruiser turned around to drive off
after she put her boxed things
in the seat
straight to voicemail
By Kervin | June 1, 2010 | No Comments
the phone rings. caller id reads “jesus fighting a velociraptor.”
christ, not again
they’re not content with their situation.
guess i’ll pick up and play receiver
“she just always wants a fight,” says He.
“put her on,” maybe I can gain some insight
awkward fumble while jesus fights the
velociraptor to hold the phone
“hello.”
“SKRREEEEEEEAARRRCCHHGGH”
“mhm. could you put jesus back on?”
clatter crunch thud. scuffle scuffle. crrricck.
“you see, kid? this is what i’m talking about.
never any capacity for a conversation; selfish
bitch.”
Click.
fighting
By Kervin | May 19, 2010 | 1 Comment
i am bred with such contempt
and not biologically
but as far as i recall i’ve tripped on hate, maim, destroy, kill:
silly short words whose simplicity fail to grasp
an aching desire to disassemble with violence
words voicing “you’re wrong,” and i turn around and break my wrist
trying to break myself without being broken
because my god, that’s easier than horse-whip apathy
screaming blood-soaked words backed by blood-soaked lungs spitting gravel
tearing throat, red and white, blisters boil and broken, Xs and Qs.
much like i walked through the nursery today
rows of irises pushed up and out of topsoil.
i called, they responded; so i walked
pressed in a place where “free love” and “the blues” met
this finite matrix–plotting a point where i stood
i strolled along, “her favorite,” one called “carelessness” broken under my foot
do I have your attention yet.
so i ached to press my back in the soil
grow and blossom and bloom and for one second serve as some fucking sort of example
before i wilt and die
nobody will read a bad poet, not for one second.
either i will get better
or i won’t
and i will die with blood in my soil
another twisted remnant dissolved to minerals
space pirates
By Kervin | May 7, 2010 | No Comments
now that i’m out of school for a month i have nothing to do but make bad jokes about horrible disasters in the gulf.
