i want to be a potato

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i will lie down and

i want you to pick me

and cut me up and put

me in boiling water until

i’m soft then jab me with

wood spoon throw butter

on me and sprinkle salt on

my mush for you then

eat me 

#potato #food sex #alt lit 

a little rabbit, in the dunes

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neither little boy nor little girl/neither trousers nor a dress

the little rabbit sucks my toy/animal 

Miffy is obviously/a rabbit

Miffy’s teardrop tongue is made for me and/not adults and that

is the thing

will you take me in a tent?/where you’re grandmother is sick

and dies?/or

take me on my knees/while i’m paying rent

slip you a five/look

into your eyes?

what is your little plan for me/little Miffy?

what is that/behind your back?

do you have big plans for me?/a direct action

to save a plant?

#Miffy #sex with cartoon animals #alt lit 

HTMLGIANT (ed. Janey Smith)

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Creeper: My Favorite Facebook Photos of My Facebook Friends January 2014

#facebook #selfies #htmlgiant #rachel pattycake bell #alt lit #friendship #sex

Dusie 15, Janey Smith + 30,000 other poets

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Seven Monochromatic Jokes

#poetry #dusie #janey smith #carrie hunter #sex 

Repeatedly, he fell silent. He seemed lost. Repeatedly, he started over. And so it went for almost three hours, hands flying, words tumbling, silent pauses creating a mounting sense of apprehension.

Then, an accident: in a sweeping gesture, Artaud knocked over the papers he was reading. Stopping, he bent down to retrieve the manuscript. His glasses fell off. He dropped to his knees. Groping blindly, he searched for his poetry.

'We were all in extreme anguish,' one old friend later recalled. 'He told us afterward that the void in the room made him afraid.'

'Partial panic convulsed the audience,' another spectator remembered.

Sitting in the front row was Andre Gide, at seventy-eight the dean of French letters. From his seat, he tried to show Artaud where his manuscript had fallen.

It was no use. Slowly, unsteadily, the actor, as if suddenly a broken man, lifted himself up and sank back into his seat. ‘I put myself in your place,’ he said, ‘and I can see what I tell you isn’t at all interesting. It’s still theater. What can one do to be truly sincere?’

from The Passion of Foucault by James Miller  

#antonin artaud #andre gide #michel foucault #alt lit #sincerity #sex

there will be love when you least expect it
#851 #poetry reading #party #the squat #rauan klassnik 

there will be love when you least expect it

#851 #poetry reading #party #the squat #rauan klassnik 

(Reblogged from tjisadude)

new book by peterbd w/intro by janey smith

(http://plainwrappress.com/store/15994065

(Source: neatomosquitoshow)

(Reblogged from tracydimond)
(Reblogged from tjisadude)

On TheNewerYork: Mushmouth Reads Daddy by Janey Smith

#theneweryork #sylvia plath #mushmouth #conceptual poetry #alt lit

(Reblogged from theneweryork)

detergent

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it was very busy at the laundromat

i thought it would be easy to lose my bag of clothes there

i put the bag down several times

it didn’t feel right

i asked the attendant if anyone was looking for a bag of clothes but the attendant looked at me strangely 

i pressed him and said no really i would feel bad if the owner of this bag didn’t get their clothes back

the attendant looked at me weird and said he saw me come in with the bag 

alright i said and i slung the bag over my shoulder and left

i walked to the park 

it was not a casual walk

the bag of clothes felt heavier the longer i carried it

i sat beneath a statue 

i thought that it’d be easy to get rid of the bag of clothes under the statue

i got up and left the bag there

but before i could take 3 steps a man called me

hey

i looked back at the man

is this yours

i don’t know i said

the man laughed

i felt embarrassed and tried to play it off as if it were a performance or something, a work of art

trying to play it off like it was a work of art made me feel more embarrassed 

i took the bag

i could feel the man look at me as i walked away

as i walked back towards the laundromat my friend jay saw me and asked me what’s up

i said not much

he looked at my bag and asked if i was doing laundry

i said no

jay talked about football 

i slung the bag over my other shoulder and said i had to go

jay said he’d walk with me

i asked jay if he’d carry my bag for me and he said sure

we walked past the laundromat and jay stopped

i stopped about ten steps in front of him and turned around

the bag was on the ground and jay was twisting the top of it

he pointed at the laundromat with his head and reached for the laundromat door

i walked over to jay and told him to wait

i took the bag of clothes from him and turned around and walked away

i could hear jay laugh but i didn’t care

i walked away feeling angry and hurt

i stopped at a crosswalk at a busy intersection

i waited for the traffic to go

a cop car approached

the car pulled over to the corner i was standing on

two cops got out of the car

then the light changed and the three of us stood there looking in different directions