Wednesday, May 19, 2010


All my life I seemed to be a parcel on a bus. I am the famous fucker. I am the famous barber. I am the famous cornet player. Read the labels. The labels are coming home.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

For my Anime Ninja warrior, who I will always be sleeping and waking and sleeping with: unpoem.

Around you

i want to be a rain ant
that zings and wings crazily
around you and your incandescent head.
i close my eyes and it's flight simulation
at 4 G in a nose dive as I circle and swing
around you and your smile of lead because
see, there is no walking towards or running away:
you must be approached from all angles and sides
like a Mickey D's happy meal
offered fool-fantastic in a cold grey cell
minutes before your execution.
Death shimmies all around you, every possibility of it
twining your neck like the sex of drunk girls on their last night out,
like a flamenco dancer on heroin stepping the roof eyes closed.

a blind man with his headphones on, running down a highway.
A couple dancing while angry husband, drunk lover and Jat father drink in the next room.
A Tibetan monk mooning the Chinese empire, kevlar long-forgotten.
And yet despite the ending contained in this final
fascination to be blinded,
to have my wings seared off--
i continue to zing and wing, circle and swing
around you, for here between your dazzling teeth,
the little death of your tongue and your leadened smile
exists the entire possibility
for the rebirth of me.

Art by © Dan McCarthy July 2005