Valentine
a numb smudge of flesh
loss of blood from vibrations
red to pink to white
jelliebeers
hey, bay beh
Tag: writing
February 12, 2014
January 30, 2014
fuck
what does flourish mean?
when I sing, I will be free
until then I’m dead.
January 12, 2014
Urban Toilet
I’m trying to find the entrance to the subway. It’s cold and I’m not sure where to go. I walk in the wrong direction and end up in the Lincoln Tunnel. I turn around and walk to midtown where finally find the underground entrance to the train. A C E.
It’s dark and crowded. The homeless walk around like zombies and are dirtier and more decrepit than normal. Their bony hands are outstretched to accept change.
Finally, I make it through the turnstiles but there aren’t any trains. Read the rest of this entry »
January 6, 2014
PERFORMANCE ART OPEN SPACE (JANUARY)
48 Days Ago
Performance Art Open Space
Panoply Performance Laboratory
January 5, 2014
Photo by Brian McCorkle
October 19, 2013
Nightmare IV
Duncan
She is doing a performance in a bedroom. I don’t know who she is and I haven’t seen her before. She’s is wearing 80’s style workout clothes.
“Now, I’m going to need everyone’s participation and please don’t take my picture.”
She approaches me. “You know, this used to be Duncan’s bed…”
September 1, 2013
Old Spice
I will buy old spice
but not to use on myself
just to remember
Old Spice is more than just a deodorant endorsed by Terry Crews.
It’s more than a way to prevent underarm odor.
It is what a man should smell like. Read the rest of this entry »
July 8, 2013
April 15, 2013
I recognized the back of his head
the cowlicks,
the soft texture,
the chestnut color,
the light coating of grease
he was walking home
slowly
I was across the street
running
I wanted to cross the street
to say hello
but my legs moved me forward
my feet slammed against the sidewalk
and i was accelerating
I sped up a side street
I leaned against a building
breathing hard
he turned onto his street
and I continued running
May 16, 2013
Bodies of Water
She flooded the seat
more puddle like than female
waves of fluid flesh
April 2, 2013
Nightmare
He has an illustration in his closet. In the portrait, he is holding a women by the waist. He gently rests his hand on her hip. She is naked and he is fully clothed. I wonder who she is because she is very attractive.
There are bloody hand prints on a blank billboard. The dried blood has a creamy quality to it.
I ask him, “If you don’t feel the same way about me as you used to, tell me…”
“I don’t…”
I start crying. I feel bad that I am blowing off a friend. We were supposed to meet at the ice cream convention. I knew they’d be mad and wouldn’t be understanding.
I have no idea where I am. My shirt is so stretched out that my breasts are showing. I pull up my shirt to try to cover myself. I feel horrible, exposed.
February 28, 2013
Cake
“Oh but, I can’t have my cake and eat it too… but, I am.
You are? Really?
I’m an idiot!
I’m letting you have that fucking cake.
I’m letting you have that cake with ice cream! With fucking chocolate syrup, sprinkles and a fucking cherry… put whip cream on it!
I can’t give you anymore cake.
You know, like, I’m not a cake factory.
People run out of cake!
I don’t have enough cake to give you anymore!
You don’t deserve… my cake.”
February 17, 2013
j and j
March 29, 2012
“There’s a couple of things that I need from Duane Reade.”
He picked a bottle of Johnson and Johnson baby oil off the shelf.
“What’s that for?”
He smirked and cupped his hands around my ear. I could feel his breath. In a smooth, deep voice he whispered, “Your ass.”
February 7, 2013
pansexual makeout party
buy a new lipstick
NARS pure matte valparaiso
“rich raspberry” tint
jelliebeers 