Wednesday, August 26, 2009

crushed

© Mary Ellen Mark/Marianne Boesky Gallery. Falkland Road

Untitled 1
The weirdest things seduce me.. the most innocuous conversations, the revelations of slung on the shoulder sweetness, the stance of the outsider casually and fatally filled.. and after that nothing else is required... I seduce myself with the right song, the remembered and made-up gesture, hair that catches leftover sunlight and the right movie to tie it all up and to unravel myself..

Untitled 2
We cannot flatten our cities, lives, habits, inclinations, desires for the purpose of study quite so easily, though this is not without trying. We often have - offered up organizations, project, research thesis that seek to unpack and reveal and wryly wonder how it is that what we talk about, words we travel with and by, stand up for and stack up on shelves do not seem all that real to our lives. But perhaps it is after having done that jaded detour, that the sheet crumples up and we have no scope but to read only the fragments that are visible. The flattenned city is crushed.

Untitled 3
I am curious
what are the limits of allowance
how much do I hop in and out
and how much tits and ass
is permissible here

I am bored.
this used to intrigue me..

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

stringer bell you motherfucka



you cannot and should not have made me choose between omar and you!!

how to fall in love with a bridge


Rama IV bridge, Bangkok


see it as a racing blur
from an unpronouncable other bridge
and ask for its number from a common friend
who might have it,
but might tell you that they were seeing each other
..once
which you could choose to ignore

move closer for that brief tumult of falling down
eyes still aching from the hurt of
watching someone you desire
move so much, so often
how can you possibly see everything..

and then see the stillness somewhere
closer, clearer, the starker lines
the fixed lights staring back at you
and even there you will fall
a vertigo between straight lines

some day when it leaves you
or you leave it, as things must be eventually
from afar you will see it standing, extended
maybe seemingly gaining weight

but still a fixed beautiful centre that extends
its slim welcome..

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Bisexuale



Women are softer, men are harder
women are harder, men are easier
Women are easier with stir fried caucasians
across the table to make fun off
Men are easier, when they have arrogant
women they can forget
Women are harder when slighted
forgotten, or just for a second turned off
Men are harder when reminded you
too can bite, find crevices and fingers to suck
on them

Both forget easily and don't cum fast
Both stay unmistakably serious about sex
Both don't laugh easily, unless gay
and with someone they don't want
You don't need to dress up for both,
only women need off shoulder surprises
couture revelations, stockings and cut nails
Men need you, lights on or neon-lit
where their friends could have seen you, naked

Both would leak videos of you online,
would be impersonal in strange cities
- like someone else's better lover
and your second best consolation
And both in a controlled experiment
would be exhaled only in muffled laughs
in sterile airports..