Smells Like Teen Spirit

First day of university in Ireland and unfortunately I still don't know how to tell the time, or maybe time is always lying to me, but I went to school for a ten o'clock class that was really at twelve, and then thought I had a class at one when it was really at two. So I ended up entering the lecture hall for my two o'clock class too early, sat down, and noticed only twenty other students. This should have been my first red flag. A jolly Irish fat professor struts in, and I ask you to emphasize the strut. Another red flag considering all the English professors tend to be thin and angry. But this guy stands before the class and says, "Welcome to the theatre." 

A big oh fucking shit instantly repeats through my mind. I cannot get up now in a lecture hall filled with only twenty other students, and considering my luck this professor would say something stupid like, "Where are you going?" And I did not want to be that student on the first day who says "I am in the wrong class." My skin gets too red when I am embarrassed and that risk is never worth it. So I remain frozen in my seat praying this class would be more of a theory class and less of an acting class. Of course the class I thought I would be missing was Enlightenment, which I think makes this lesson even more fascinating. Of course this theater class is an acting class, and I am about to faint. 

When I was younger I loved doing musicals and acting in front of audiences, but now getting up in front of a class I am not even in, a class no exchange, visiting or Eramus students are allowed to take, I feared I was going to be caught intruding on this class especially with my American accent. The instructor gives out directions, we get a five minute improve, and I think well, should I try to fake an Irish accent in an acting class? My palms are so sweaty, I know there is no way I am going to be able to fake an accent. I keep swallowing in intervals of two. 

It's my turn, the instructor is pointing at me. What the fuck was I doing, I missed the entire first row give their improves, I could have used one of those for inspiration and I have nothing. Now he is saying "Don't be shy" extremely loud. I know I must look like a deer in head lights, and I trip going down on the last two steps. I stand in front of my "peers" swallow two times and fake faint. The students gasp, I wait five seconds, Mississippillies included, jump to my feet, smile and bow. For some reason everyone laughs, and I am not discovered as an American intruder.  

And The Lord Said, You Are Home.

I Follow The Shepherd For I Have The Brain of a Sheep

Every Sunday

at four

traffic stops

some cars

too far back

honk impatiently

unable to see

 the crowd in black

the six men

arms linked

carry the casket

no one ever cries

everyone seems

just as impatient 

as the cars stuck

behind the other cars

wishing those six men

were stronger

capable

of walking six paces faster

with the chunks of wood

and empty body

of someone they once knew

weighing down on their shoulders

I watch girls

dressed in black short dresses

probably worn

some night out

with fishnet stockings

tucked inside their black Ugg boots

and men wearing

black tracksuits

with white sneakers

as I cross the street

a blast goes off in a near alley

and Bertille says, 

"Ah we are now in Afghanistan"

A Culture Night Out, Dublin.

I went to the Dublin Writer's Museum and the Irish Museum of Modern Art for Dublin's Culture Night Out, of course there were over 100 things to do and not a lot of time to do it in. Anyways here are some artist I truly enjoyed.

Aubrey Beardsley

Arthur Rackham

Willy Pogany

Ralph Steadman

Dorothy Cross

Charles Cullen

Jasper Johns

Ed Ruscha

*Not all of these paintings can be viewed at the museums, I have just included other works that I enjoy from these artists.

She Wail, She Moan, Summer Gone

Franklin Avenue Haiku

And she rocks and rocks

sweat eats flesh, limp limbs dangling

her head rolls on neck

image: painting in Brooklyn Museum

Your Eyes On My Faults

Sculpture: Christian Batteau, Man Invoking a Better Version of Himself
Quitters and Non Humans

Places, places everybody
No not there,
not there either
if you ask
I will not tell
I have clocked
my soul
into my pockets
that can't remain
full
the emptiness
makes my kind
growl for more
more more
money
and you
are doing that wrong
and that
is not the right
way either
but if you ask
I will not show
I am more human
cause I can
repeat
repeat
repeat
you are
a lousy
non-human
and you forgot
to clean
the     .

The Way to Happiness

Like all good religious cities, I have received The Way to Happiness, A Common Sense Guide to Living in the mail. After reading it, like any good writer, I took the liberty to change the text. I will not lie, but damn who ever wrote this choose their words and sentence structure so wisely. Anyways this book basically reminded me of the movie ZombieLand.


1. Take Care Of Yourself

isolate them.
People
carry germs
they put you
at risk
you are dirty,
clean-up

2. Preserve Your Teeth

Suggest to others
that they
preserve their
teeth.

3. Eat

People who do not
eat properly
are not much
help to you.

4. Don't Sleep

a person's general
failure can make
you at risk
do not rest.

5. Drugs

People
who take drugs
see the real world.
They are really
there.


6. Do Drink

Alcohol has medicinal value
do let anyone who
has been drinking
fly you in a plane.
A little liquor
goes a long way.

7. Promiscuous

Sex is pleasure and happiness:
nature intended it that way
abuse nature.

8. Your Sexual Partner

Unfaithfulness
is human passion
aroused.
It is incurable.

Always Drifting Into New Towns

And So We Meet
This photo reminds me
of the meeting moment
the eager "hellos"
both objects
two dimensional
the lantern
unlit
the body
non-moving
both have stories
to share
but in this moment
they go untold.

I have left two homes
to make a third
and it makes
me feel like a whore
sleeping in
so many beds
to get to this
one small bed
underground
this room, my coffin.

the lantern
is misplaced
not hanging
with all the rest
the misfit
lantern
not able
to sway on the
line
removed
removed
removed
but it tilts
earnest
in my direction.

this photo reminds me
that we are both
homeless,
but not unhappy
to take a second
for the meeting-moment
all space
remains
semi-recreate-able.



Hannah Denyer Photography

Isadora the Explorer

Treasures found in my backyard

is a quiet basin, the Blessington Basin.

Also known as the Dublin's Secret Garden.

Hit Me With A Flower

Lady Lavery, The She-Man

Not just a pretty face?

But you put her

on your bank notes

as your icon

loose change, loose legs

loose lips?

prostituted for reformation

a Venus in Furs

if you insist

but she is no flower

just like all women

she is castrated

by her own womb

and by you

oh Ireland!

you are the masculine

master, monster

putting her in

your place of choice

and when she set eyes on you

did she choose to go blind?

did she let go

of her impulses?

do you dare

glorify your Lady

and wish us all blind?

 

Dublin City Museum Presents:

The paintings and photography of Lady Lavery the proto-fashion icon...lecture this Sunday!

Girl In Cafe

I sat outside the Lennox Cafe with only a pot of tea since my money was running low due to my inability to open a bank account in a foreign country. I sat between an Irish couple, a Spanish couple and two Irish men, all enjoying wine, food, espresso and dessert. I didn't dare make eye contact with any of them especially after the waiter snuffed at me when I said I would only be ordering a pot of tea at a table for one.

To distract myself from connecting with strangers I pulled out a copy of Venus in Furs, slowly sipping the Irish tea since my waiter refused to bring me milk. 

Without hesitation, even after I warned myself not to, I looked up at the street to see a man pedaling a bike and as he turned the corner he blew a kiss. I looked down back at my book feeling my cheeks burn. I turned the page but from under my table I noticed two wheels and a green sneaker. The man on the bike had turned, turned around.  When he noticed I had noticed him, he threw his bike down not bothering to lock it and asked to join me.

His name, Henry.

Henry the musician, on his way to meet his friend to grab his guitar before a gig said he felt he had to turn around to meet me, to ask my name, to learn where I am from and laughed when I said California, claiming I looked French. I had the hair of a French girl with wicked lashes. I sensed the couples were uncomfortable with us, us the intruders, the poor, the unequipped to dine and wine. Henry said beautiful girls should never sit alone. 

I told Henry I wished him the best with his music and asked him to leave, see no man with a bike, no man with a guitar can swoon a girl at a table for one when he tells her she would fit in only when sitting at a table for two.

Who Wastes His Child Born So Wild

The Cross By My House


I dreamt
I was floating face down
inside this cross
like that scene 
in Romeo + Juliet
when Tybalt
is shot outside
the church
floating
below jesus
or was it mary?
the face of that statue
terrified and condemning
and when I woke
gasping to breath
because I thought 
I had finally
plunged out of 
the water
I felt terrified, alone
and misplaced
so I returned
to the cross
and read
the Century
since 1787
the passion
for the real
still exists
never close
to a birth,
this cross
is the montage
of semblance
man has killed Christ
and man has killed man
and for repentance 
built a sunken 
cruciform water-feature
for his grave. 










Officially living in Dublin, Ireland.

Film Spectators Are Vampires.

The Dharma Astronaut from Isabel Lederman on Vimeo.

For J.D Lopez

Feedback always appreciated.