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writeThis.com
writeThis
jul/aug  2003






the cabal
shut the
fuck
up
"the confrontation of aesthetics..."
vol. ii, issue ii
May 24, 2004
My Life Could Be Falling Apart
Blem Vide
from the forthcoming book babble on to babylon

my life could be falling apart
and you wouldn't know about it
I could be unemployed
with a wife and two kids
and you wouldn't know

I could be dying of sunshine
stroking a laugh catheter
that tingles my prostate
and you won't be kept up to date
on my prognosis

I might be fabulously gay on Sundays
to spite my Bushite neighbors
I might perform small clitoral favors
for drive-thru lesbian muff dives
and you won't know if blem is a vide
or a five-time karaoke jive

I have a job as file clerk for crissakes

or maybe I volunteer free legal services
to welfare mothers and gimp poets
who bitch and moan about people
who don't know the difference
between the former and the latter
and your attention span doesn't matter

who are you again?

I might have toy guns
aimed at my mailbox
reading fire to wild cactus
cooked from a Joshua tree
and I still can't tell you about
my 3 fastest-fading loves

aahh the guilt grows in my enemy's trees

I eat jellybread with a secret sophist topping
I drink Glitterhouse wine to project my progression
of neglected vanity projects I subjectively object to 

but you aren't in the loop, are you?

meanwhile
the part of yourself you left
behind your eyelids
as you read this
is brewing over
an Asian tea bag synapse
dub relapse spit in the soul hole
dropped in the fishbowl
casually subliminal

communicating information is out of service
please use the handrail to your left
to guide you back to your piecemeal
bit by bit torrent forming an orange
doorhinge on the cornerstone’s edge
I hedge on in eight-fifths precisely
-give or take a cinched inch of my eyebrow

cough it up, I ain't telling you about it

I’m mopping up the floor
of kitchen liquor stores
with underscores
of you fuckers

my life could be a morality play
at an old folks home in
shiny shiny Utah
when the Mormons come home
I could be born from a long line
of hygiene products
and you'd never know it

I might be a smother of invention
who dabbles in ballet bullets
shot from gut rot funk macramé
but I can't say enough about it
and I certainly won't tell you about it

I could have vitamins pumped into
my limousine and you wouldn't
smell the vitamin C breeze

what have you done for me lately?


6