Tapestry of Girl with a Pearl Earring on the Wall Behind the Punk Band in Fargo

 
 

I don’t have any splinters that coffee

shop architecture city sparrows are
smaller toads I long to paint on roller
blinds again not quite the Girl with a
Pearl Earring
but something that same sort
of dark-haired Colorado day-hike
solo she is I put one foot in a quart
of milk one in a quart of whiskey catch
a paper plane floating from the bridge a
note written on it says “Take a stroll with
me” Glaciers melting down my sink
cardboard boxes rinsed milk and her fur
blue in the shape of a white heart on her
pelvis giving free love to Chelton

Avenue and his perpetual indigo jumpsuit

Good morning I’m walking

 

Found this recently in my Google Drive. Must have been written in 2012, I think it was a part of my project for the poetry class I was taking at the University then.

Still trying to figure out how to do the title for this in a way that snaps into place.

It's always weird reading old stuff, especially poems — this was such a strange and bad time, life-wise and aesthetically. It is however interesting to see all of the things that would bear themselves out later.

This was an early example of an aesthetic I'm still chasing. I had encountered some Tzara and other dada stuff around this time, and was very inspired by it, although I didn't read a whole lot of it.

Also very inspired by Michael O'Brien's wonderful book Avenue, one of the few things I read in my poetry classes that really called out to me. I read all of the books of his I could get my hands on last year.

There's a handful of poems from this time that focus on 'the feminine' in one weird way or another (see: "she was a rebel / yogurt cigarettes") and of course these are all just signs to me now that I was an egg. I wanted to be the girl with the pearl earring. I remember feeling that. I saw her on the wall at a now-defunct show space in Fargo — which, at this time, is an extreme bummer of a place and memory.

The kitty was a sweetie living in my college house where I was staying with four other folks. Rent was $300 a month back then. Amazing.

I did paint on roller blinds in middle school and/or high school. I think that was a Captain Beefheart-recommended medium. It's good stuff.

Also worth noting: I've been writing poems about/during walks way longer than I realized.