Cresting

SCATOPLASTER Red Tide Rising SOUNDTRACK Produced by JIM WILSON Raymond Pettibon Howie Pyro VINYL

Relaxation To Music

Big Sur

Nature Sounds Relaxation and Tibetan Chakra Meditation - Music for Relaxation Meditation, Deep Sleep, Studying, Healing Massage, Spa, Sound Therapy, Chakra Balancing, Baby Sleep and Yoga

Ocean Waves with Tibetan Bowls for Massage Therapy, Meditation, Healing and Reiki (With Tibetan Singing Bowl and Healing Music)

Seashore Ocean Waves, Music and Health (Nature Soothing Sounds for an Healthy Lifestyle)

In Front of the Ocean (Calming Sea Waves)

The Garden

I Don't Care What the People Say

Love is an Art

Future Pain

the trouble with crying at Times Square
is that you are a body in a sea of bodies
sailing from one heartbreak to the next
 
the year is new & you are still just you,
except older, with less apartment space
 
& less breathing space and a neon red
flash flood alert on your phone screen
 
you blend into the scene. a neon green
woman dances at an intersection, joy
seeping out of every painted pore. you
 
offer her your metro card and a smile.
you are soon leaving this city anyway
 
at 7th Avenue and Broadway, you break
down again, affirming the threat of flood
 
this scene would be good, so good, if you
were auditioning for a breakout role in a
tear-jerking play about immigration law
 
& prozac prescriptions. but you are not.
you are merely grieving your twenties
 
& a failed loan application & a romance
lacking romance, the American dream
 
a splintered mess at your callused feet.
& this brightly lit city? it neither sleeps
nor sees you weep amid its neon lights

————————————–

Nkateko Masinga called us from Pretoria, South Africa.

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"neon lights at noon" by Nkateko Masinga

"the same week that you leave the west coast they board up the complex and every time I want to remember you I have to take the detour"

They trimmed the palms in the parking lot, you know?
I look at them now, and I think, “What a good thing cut short,
what a fine thing to lay barren.” In the hospital down the road from that house,
I thought I would write about the strangling figs in your yard.
It’s low-hanging fruit, markedly poetic. Who is the host and who is the vine
that grows parasitic and beautiful? It’s easier to write a metaphor
than it is to have a conversation.

But I wrote about surfing, radiology, and meth,
Steely Dan, your salty bong. I still can’t believe
I bought you a Brita just so I could drink water. Yes,
that might be a biohazard, but the beach at San Onofre
is still open to the public, so who are we actually going to trust?
If we could divine the shape of grief through sonography,
would we find Jesus in the ultrasound, a bastard, smiling?

Fuck this. Come out on the water with me. It’s quiet,
a little dangerous, but nice. I might even tell you it’s God
when we feel closer to death.

————————————–

Adrian Belmes called us from San Diego, CA.

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"the same week that you leave the west coast they board up the complex..." by Adrian Belmes

My hoodie’s grey with varsity
block-letter appliqué the kind
with looped fabric behind
each letter:

BASIC

no need to look too long
because my hair’s brown and
cut medium-length neither
straight nor curly and I’m
average by any actuarial
measure. I’m banal danger in a
full face of makeup I’m half a
sour citrus dolloped with
cottage cheese and
maraschino-topped Sweet ‘n
Low strapped in sidecar    I’m
Unlimited Salad Bar who
accompanied its mother to
Aerobics      I’m a serrated
grapefruit spoon when all you
want are Lucky Charms I’m
end-of-week TV Guide used
as a coaster because Nat’l
Geographic’s got eyes I’m an
80s album cover rendered
animate: ponytail    Ray Bans
pink Hubba Bubba  blown
into face-obscuring bubble lips
pursed        into        an 
O
of Greek choral epiphanic
echo 
zombie                  cheerleader 
grimacing at pyramid’s base,
mouthing       Please           no

————————————–

L.J. Sysko called us from Wilmington, DE.

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"Self-Portrait With Bubble Gum" by L.J. Sysko

Cresting

theExConBoy

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