TONIGHT NYC

I’ll be reading fiction in Hell’s Kitchen to celebrate the publication of the new New York Tyrant. 

8pm

Bar Nine

807 9th avenue between 53rd and 54th

What's The Most Obvious Thing Is Your Desperate Yeah

These emptied streets are

an uninhabited faculty of

urban pragmatic nocturnal abandon

and a symbol of sexual desperation

saying please please please

occupy this way

fill it with movement

with random monoxide slush

of carbonized breathability

and screaming break cries

all wee wee wee

when we get too close

to coming too close

to coming

and over the line

is right there

over the line

where feeling so good

stops feeling as good

as feeling so good

and hingsight fades into

the now

and we’re all like

whoops

but really knowing we knew

exactly what we were doing

ever since we started doing

exactly what we’re doing

when we looked at ourselves

and we said

go

You know how sometimes when your hand sneaks into your peripheral vision it looks and feels like some foreign, existentially detached object trying to subtly insist on its part-of-you-ness. And I’m all, nuh uh. This also happens sometimes with my nose and my cheeks. I’m less concerned about why this happens than I am with how to make it go away. Possible answer: drugs. But if that’s answering the question of cause or cure, who can tell? At least there’s one thing I never doubt: this is totally my penis.

The mend is the beginning is the mend

A storm’s been brewing but hasn’t started flowing. My knuckles stopped bleeding but I bit my lip open. I definitely feel like a citizen of this city again.