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December 27, 2005

Left Luggage Department

The wife tried to quote me into a misquotation, her words; as follows:

In regards to the clothing I left in New Orleans- "oh, my wedding dress was left behind" dear husband replies, "I left it becasue it was falling apart, like our marriage".

How it really went down (or should have been relayed, not just for a more comical reaction from the empty seats, but also to convey my (in)sincerity. Is as follows:

In regards to her bitching and whining over my choice to leave her wedding dress to rot in New Orleans, I said "It was falling apart, just like our marriage"

see the difference?

We take showers to wash away our mistakes

I try to cajole her into sucking my dick and she procedes with an inquest: "How can I? When YOU spend so much time sucking it yourself?"
Its true. I had spent a rather large portion of the latter hours of the afternoon praising highly, not just my prowess in photography, but my accomplishments with the written word as well.
Fuck, I though, even Hemingway and Ed Weston had had their critics and detractors. Shit, even Jesus Christ couldnt please everyone. (As that quartet of driven nails could attest to, had they tongues with which to spark a testimony from.....)

My wife is reading a dictionary. I told her "You're lucky we're staying in hotels, when you finish with that dictionary you can start reading the phonebook or one of the menus in the nightstand drawer."
No, she is not big on the classics, but she has a huge appetite. Not just for epics, but for chinese delivery as well...

Confused by all this?

Then remember: Better to be electrified that electrocuted (especially by all this chinese arithmetic)

Posted by Drexler at 06:11 PM

December 26, 2005

holidays

every day only comes once a year
and so we employ nets and streamers
to dogear the festivities
shoot wildflowers and starfish into midnight
dress ourselves in fairytales and folklore
in order to split one occasion
from another

a silence
an explosion
dogs shouting from rooftops
over nothing
cats meditating beneath awnings
that trickle jazz

the breadboy pinches his bicycle horn
it marks the beginning of our day
it brings a closure to our night

the tide returns
everything
that it has taken out to sea

Posted by Drexler at 03:39 PM

December 23, 2005

the employee

deaf tones grouse and gravel
from the weasel that goes about
on two hooves
slated eyes
that lack enough gravity
to ignite a matchstick
dripping sloth into the dead ear of senility
of her employer
she cons half cent peices
from the half blind
and feels an elation in her loins
as she muses over it

she feeds on table scraps
and the film inside dirty pots
she sucks at abandoned cartons
of sour milk
with only the cockroaches
as her witness

you will not find this creature
in any zoo
or jungle
nay, such things only exist
at the circus where we reside
the Hostal Solange

Posted by Drexler at 04:35 PM

hack writer

somwhere on the western drawstring
there lies a threadbare eyelet
its run like a noose
around the medium
and my own words
or hands
are worthy of
or up to
the task

I unvail an invention
that beguiles your attention
towards false imagery
corrupted detail
spoken to the eye
by the living silence
that lies
beneath

no
the synapses fire blanks
into the literary socket
such crude tools
we are given
so few have the gift
of the gab
or the poetry
for spreading the ink
like a mosasic
across the page
no, we hunt game
with toothpicks
and pine nettle
with the abilities
of a dolt

avid minds often starve
from what we pass off
as balladry
chicken feed
and laymans dialog
pitiful attempts
to keep afloat the pungency
of the three dimensions
that encompass us

hatchets
and rocks
we furnish their imagination
with rubble and rubbish

at the coming of dusk
I expose a bundle of mangos
to a sinking falsetto
and follow the moment
and all the moments that follow it
with an insight
that will continue
to fail me

Posted by Drexler at 03:58 PM

December 21, 2005

hanging lights

living in the cuckoos nest
with a
jeckel and hyde
handling the paperwork

everything started
with a broken record, doddering
tranquilo, it scratched along
for a week or so
but then
gratuities
sparked a flickering bulb
an emulsion of illusions
lining a dark cloud
in a cracked mind

torrid dialog
in the echo chamber
commenced
turning the masthead
towards the ocean floor

good intentions
are often recieved
and mangled
like the pooling
of a human stain
we often ask for nothing
and find ourselves
stripped bare
bandaging our best intentions
with a cloth
mistaken for a cloak
by those
whose eyes reflect
nothing

a short distance
from the scene
I face a titian fixture
sliding methodically
beneath a sheath of sea

for a moment
for a lifetime
such elegance of solitude
washes the slate
the unexpected treasons
away

Posted by Drexler at 02:16 PM

December 19, 2005

eternally falling back on the undress

The second finger from the
wedding band
was sore about something
that lumbers in this fog
and after falling into
a pile of gravel, in a leisurly place
I later realized (with the one eyed jack)
that if my feet were as swift
as my hands once were
I wouldnt be in this
akward position of reflection

That paisley skinflint
that they dare address: a dress
is just a lure in the saltwater taffy
with the shifting of polka dots
atop the finest luggage
I cannot afford
afford to offer my assistance;
handling
afford to meet my resistance;
commanding
No,
we leave that to suave chaps
from the production lines
of the usual fashion
with ivory teeth
and more lines
that even my nose can handle

I sit beneath a green umbrella
and draw lines in the clouds
lingering on the pleasures
easily fashioned
Drawing lines of distinction
through the realities
never to be known

D.

Posted by Drexler at 12:10 PM

December 08, 2005

avenida jose balta

on the avenida Balta
there is an ex-man
in a beard
selling redheadead parrots
their feet twined to a twig
he is not alone
or, in any way
unique

the trade in mascots on Jose Balta
are alive and kicking
puppies cradled in
price collars
and the cooing of school girls

half armed men
vending beach balls from laundry baskets
and of course the obligatory blind man
playing the harmonica
through wooden teeth
as scarfaced ringleaders
watch for the shiny items
on the chests and breasts
of the touristas
truckloads of hombres
armed with batons
better than those
carried by the police
attack watch repairmen
to steal their BBQ lighters

I walk down the street
with my blade
exposed
to those of the disposition
that I have
something to offer

I do
un lit de fleurs

Posted by Drexler at 09:45 AM

December 03, 2005

taking a stroll throught the mine field with my parasol

Ke-ta-mine

A general anesthetic given intravenously or intramuscularly and used especially for minor surgical procedures in which muscle relaxation is not required.


recreationally Ketamine belongs to a class of drugs called "dissociative anaesthetics," which separate perception from sensation. Other drugs in this category include PCP, DXM and nitrous oxide (laughing gas)


la Casa Raygada
butchered by the simpletons
painted up like an invitation to dissuasion
up close you outline the sadness of what could be
the muffled iron work
the empty layers of paint that smother history
the cement where flowers were once showered

where are the wicker table and chairs
the pisco sours and cuba libres
the continental breakfast on the wings of the terrace
the oscillating prisms of stained glass
and polished mahogany

strip the whores makeup off the face of this trampled gem
let the glass breathe
let light hit all the dimensions
refine the confinements

meanwhile

daggers in the arroyo
assassins
or strangers
lurk on the balcony
los paranoias
because I wouldnt let you take advantage of my disabilities
with your native tongue
and the hue of my skin
forced to display the traits
that precede me
and the nature of my flag
no time to differentiate
whether their shoes seem polished
or overworked
whether the cork on their wine is unzipped
or capped with an inviting finger puppet
there is only instinct and history
to overwhelm the floodgates
of my imagineering
on this veranda
overlooking crumbled sea vessels
and vultures, among the rubble

the sun falls
lividity drains from the sky and sand
into the funnel of the gloaming
the tension surrounding the handle
of my blade
grows
like the darkness

Posted by Drexler at 12:35 PM