Are all the old male caretakers of big estates in movies named “Mr. Tuttle?”
Watching THE CHANGELING…The One With George C. Scott
November 12, 2009Ellipses
November 11, 2009“…”
is the only answer i know anymore
Possibly the Most Bizarre Comment a Writing Instructor Could Give You
November 9, 2009“Ok, now I have lost the will to live. I think I have to stop reading soon. Just for a while.”
This is…a compliment?
OMG!
November 8, 2009So I’m channel surfing, cause I gots TV in my new home (down South for the winter, like the birds) and I come across Tremors, on the Mystery Channel, the summary of which reads…
“Four big worms with multiple tongues dig high-speed around people in the middle of nowhere.”
Starring Kevin Bacon. Jackpot!
Eek
November 6, 2009Inadequacy.
Toni Mirosevich
USA
Shorthand
My Russian neighbor invites
me in. We sit on her new
plaid couch, the one she is
buying on time. She says,
“I want you to write a poem
about what happened in
Chernobyl. It is the ten-year
anniversary.” I tell her I know
shorthand, assure her I will
take plenty of notes.
She begins to tell the story
of what happened after
the explosion. She remembers
as if it were yesterday, as if
it were still fresh in her mind.
“There was a cover up,” she
says. “They told us there was
nothing wrong.” She tells me
about her coworkers in Kiev,
about where they scattered.
About the farm fields around
the plant. “Everyone went on
to develop cancer,” she says,
then in a hush, as if the KGB
is still listening, “Leukemia.”
I tell her leukemia is a hard
word to rhyme. Her son is
ten, she says. Could I write
now please?
I walk home quickly, while
it’s still fresh in my mind.
I look down at my notes,
At the only two words
on the page:
weird strawberries.
Shorthand appeared in Blue Mesa Review (Issue 14, 2002)
They Beat Us To It!
November 6, 2009
Bananas in Bogota!
FOR IMMEDIATE AND WIDESPREAD RELEASE
November 6, 2009For immediate and widespread release, to be included in any and all newspapers, magazines, blogs, Twitters, ‘zines, LiveJournals, Gchat status messages, gossip rags, ransom notes, epic tomes, message boards, flyers, etc. etc., save Vogue Magazine and any of its international affiliates:
From the people who brought you such events as “Rolling Around Drunk on the Bowery” and “Synchronized Screaming to Midget Porn!,” the WELL DRESSED REFUGEES present: A Weekend Long Happening at Art Basel 2009! To be officially titled, of course, post-eventually.
The Well Dressed Refugees is a group of five nauseatingly attractive, totally outrageous, intellectually pretentious “living” beings who stage happenings wherever they go! What do they do? Whatever they do! It will literally be happening right there. This year they will be appearing Thursday through Sunday at Miami Basel all over the town. Wherever they happen to be, there they are, and if you’re lucky enough to be there, you’re participating, whether you like it or not. Character, spectator, who knows what you are? Or what I am? Or who THEY are?
How will you know where to be? Throw the I-Ching. Meditate on Swami Muktananda. Send out smoke signals. Sacrifice a small animal on a makeshift altar and see a map in the pool of blood. Attempt to ask the spirit of Luigi Pirandello via Ouija Board. Check Twitter –– all of it. Or just close your eyes and imagine yourself THERE. And there you are.
The WDR will videotape the security cameras at the Fountainebleau whilst floating in the pool sipping Vermouth and juices. They will determine the line where that act of renunciation itself becomes indulgent. They will expose the collective baby blogger unconsciousness by evaluating their obscure fashion references –– then blog about it. There may be a naked hamster’s nest. There may be a “spontaneous” dance party to “Funky Kingston” by Toots and the Maytals on Ocean Drive. There may be a visit to Wet Willie’s. There will definitely be Speedos. Chaos will ensue, and if you buy them drinks, they will oblige an encore. And so will you.
Hold on to your Ed Hardy underpants, cause we about to GUY DEBORD YOUR ASS!
The Well Dressed Refugees are…
PS: Commonly known as “Paw,” this cat lover enjoys vagrancy, fantasizing about G.W.S. Trow and will be wearing the aforementioned Speedos. Is currently living his life based upon the philosophical teaching of Deleuze and Guattari.
ID: Baby faced assassin with a penchant for Soviet kitsch and pretty lingerie. Fond of calling things “meta” and telling you to “live your reality,” which is advice you ought to take.
B: Direct descendant of eccentric Viennese royalty. The answer to her question, btw, is, “Yes, I am serious.” Plays well with others, but if you cross her, she will rip the heads off your dolls.
Lady Bob: Jew whose fashion sense has subtle Third Reich undertones. Unparalleled powers of sarcasm. True story: was prom queen in a non-ironic way.
LF: Loves: tats, blunts, questionnaires and sumptuous fabrics. Hates: allergens, the “popo,” and the HBO series Tell Me You Love Me. Last seen urban exploring in NYC’s outer boroughs.
Though don’t expect them to necessarily introduce themselves correctly. Or at all.
The Well Dressed Refugees now have a Twitter! Ch-ch-check it out!
Stay in touch with the magical world for updates on what the WDR are up to…
Encore Mystery Channel
November 5, 2009On Watching Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
In this movie
Jude Law is skinny
and has all his hair.
Time
is really funny.
Startin’ Rumors
November 4, 2009
AC: do you have stock in that
ID: well it’s me
on the bottle
so i get a check every once in a while
AC: hat!
what!
lol
ID: yeah
i never told you that?
AC: looks like a cartoon
which one are we talking about
lol
AC: are you messing with me
ID: hahahaha
nooooo!
AC: that little girl is 60 years old
me: 🙂
AC: dont mess with me i usually belive you
Me…
November 3, 2009Me, Wishing I were Harryette Mullen
Medication hazy
Lazy Gerber daisy
Mama wants a raise-y
“She is fucking crazy!”
Trying to deny the I
Capital, One
Not so fun
To be run by
Those fluids, Druids, Cupids, stupid
Little wants and desires
Liars!
Burn those fires.
Drown in the mire
Why don’t we all, then?
That’s what he said
That day on the bridge
“Just a smidge”
Hand on heart
Terrible art, not so smart
Off she darts
I wish I had cash
Slash was Ogden Nash slash
Was Snow comma Dash
But then I’d be dead
Though I am in the head
Already
Freddy, ready?
“Ash, ash, there’s nothing there”
Misquote?
Jumped off the boat
Surrounded by a moat
Will I ever float?
Note
To self:
This mess Could dress
A word with less
Stress than a kangaroo
Jumps through the hooooooop!
Circus freak
Inherit the meek
Seven days in a week
Don’t you dare speak
I’ll bite off your tongue
Drum, humdrum too doo loo
What’s the point if he ain’t gonna spew?
Ghetto verna-cu-lar
Per
Sentence
Structure
Eyelids are dropping
I think about stopping
(don’t work, fuck the clerk
shirk the responsibilities
please tease me before I go)
Walk off that plank
Take a long one
To the bank
To be frank,
I never liked that skank
Four to go
To and fro
Heave and ho
Fast and slow
Yes and no
Show
And tell
To Hell
Where the criminals dwell
The knell it
Rings sings a ding a ling
Not a word
But a bird
Did I say already
No, it was a fish
That I wish for
That you wish
Would come back
To you
I cannot make them hurt, not matter what I do
This is my battle
This is my brew
Chances lost and stockings tossed and teeth flossed and
Done
With that
You rat
