kuzma is king

this party, this poetry shindig, was arguably argue..eablybly- the greatest party i have ever been to. i spent most of the time talking to bob. bob is from norfolk and im not sure how old he is exactly but he seemed fairly old. went to college in the 60s i think. forgot which college. wayne i think. anyway bob (who is rumored to have met his wife at an orgy, which is not actually true) and i talked for a fairly long time about life, drugs, education, writing, and religion. kyle got his phone number because kyle is lucifer. this became more and more apparent over the course of the night. anyway back to bob. bobs wife barb(ara) who sounds like a fart if you dont say it all out was a pseudo understudy to allen ginsburg at the naropa b.s. academy. anyway though back to bob. bob talked about going to california and india and how he cant remember music that he listened to, but does remember the first time he smoked a joint and how that changed his life. he saw chairs and he knew music intimately, sort of like meeting his wife at an orgy which wasnt true but believed by many to be so. all the while i was consuming massive amounts of fancy beers. particularly this one called samuel smiths organic lager or ale or something. nice beer. had some others too. went inside a few times, quite a few, but never stayed very long. ate many aurerderves. derves. or. the spring rolls were pretty awesome. and the cheese. J.R. (not me) we ate a lot of cheese together and talked about the "man". this was after bob left. J.R. lives down the road and is divorced. anyway back to bob. bob had some really intense eyes and we stared at each other the entire time we talked. it was one of the better conversations ive had in awhile and it felt good. mostly i talked about the main things i think about and bob sifted through it with his worldly knowledge that i am trying to gain. i feel like the more i talk about the same things over and over again that eventually i will figure something out and change what im talking about, maybe learn something. so i try not to talk about anything knew until ive figured this stuff out. its going to take awhile but bob helped. i wonder if he thinks bob sounds like a fart the way barb does. barb and bob. barb is taller than bob. bob seems like a greatful dead sort of guy but im not so sure thats true. new paragraph.

i moderately enjoyed the first few readers to a point. this has to do with the fact that i was pretty drunk at the time and feel the need to like more poetry. i think the key is to like as much poetry as you can until you hate poetry and then hate as much poetry as you can so you can figure out what you actually do like and what you pretend to like so people think youre with it.

our table was covered in beer bottles. it was pretty obvious where we sat because there were roughly 30+ bottles on our table and a number of cigarette butts. kuz told us that he was going to ban smoking but he changed his mind when we showed up. the spring rolls were great. im trying to think what else was great. the guac was great. the cheese. i really really liked the cheese. it was smoked something, that J.R. and i ate a lot of together while talking about movies. Q.T. and star wars and anime. i started talking about miyazaki to a bunch of old men. cartoons you know. one girl asked me what my boba fett tattoo was and i told her boba fett and she said what the hell is that and i said star wars and she said she had never seen it. a guy who i assume was her husband knew though. he knew and i could see something going on there. she said she didnt have time to watch movies but that she had seen the exorcist roughly 30 times. maybe 40. i said you had time to watch the exorcist 40 times, maybe 30, and you dont have time to watch star wars. she was called on her bluff of being too intellectual to watch movies. J.R. and i went off on movies and cheese here. bob was gone.

the beer ran out about 9ish and kyle and kuz went on a beer run. eventually we ended up taking all the beer that they bought and putting it in kyles trunk. this is the end of the party so i might have to go back. but i wont. thats pretty much it.

there was kooser, kuz, bob, a dog, some people from ireland, a man from wayne, some more people, some doctors who were poets, some poets who were doctors, some great food and beer, some more beer, some sneaking, some bathrooms, some smoking, a lot of smoking, a lot of beer, a man with sage, a man with sage advice, a man with a hat, several men with hats, another kooser, eventually no kooser, more beer, less beer, then more beer. there was some reading and a band. kyle did not like either. it was arguably the greatest party i have ever been to. i would say. i read bob one of my poems. the poem about ants. i read him the added on ending that i dont think i have written and know i havent read to anyone or really shown to anyone. i liked it a lot after i read it to him though. it was called ants and i read it to him because he was talking about how he followed an ant for 45 minutes while it carried a bead or piece of something down his driveway. that was bob.

i cant remember if ive actually written about people in cars yelling at anyone and im too lazy to look. lazy lazy. but it does happen far too often. why? ive even had the priv... umm. well i was in a car and someone in the car yelled at another car and that car pulled up behind the car i was in and the guy got out and came up and tried to punch into the car. now, im pretty against yelling to begin with unless its for comedic value. anyway, why do people in cars feel the need to yell at walkers and bikers. that wasnt really a question. it was. but anyway, i was not yelled at but spoken to from bike to bike last night and i was too drunk and various other emotions to calculate the weight of these words until i was too far away to do anything about them. it was all pretty silly.

im listening to the new RZA (the raza) album called digi snacks

i i i i have... this d... that... (and i think) where there is nobody watching i can just eat away at (and i think) and then i feel this way and tell myself this other thing that isn't really true but is because what i thought before wasn't actually true and is. so i feel this now. (so i think). and there are all these gaps in my head that don't really allow me to let go of the things that i thought we're this way but are actually that way. the funny thing is that (and i think) if anyone actually read this i know, it doesn't really make much sense, but (i don't think) anyone actually knows what i really am talking about but might assume they know because i am a redundant redundant redundant never gets tired always gets old forget about it. but this isn't even what i think it is. it's growing.

i am in collegiate purgatory. or. something. i feel the longer i sit here and purgator the more and more my brain will rot away into a (supposedly neon green) supposedly redundant. there is no point to any of this really. i just crave attention really. i guess. im probably going to delete this soon.

holy smokes

i need to change my phone plan so i stop paying for a thing i dont use.

this was an attempt at two things, one to post garbage i write on the internet in hopes of some sort of comment/critique/etc and to do other things that im not really sure about but mostly have to do with the fact that i------- nevermind. i realize that i havent really been a good person for quite a long time. i thought i was gradually fixing that recently but i still do things that are in question i suppose and i still feel like there is this circle and i am not in this circle. i know enough people and i am vaguely friends with some of them but the people i feel the closest to i dont really see that. it seems like there is some amount of time that anyone can spend with certain people before they feel like they have had their share and need something else. not just in romantic jargon but in the idea of all around companionship. i guess im bad at that. i dont know what it is. i think about this all the time though and dont really know how to bring it up but i dont feel like keeping it in. i assume nobody really reads this anyway so its not a big deal and most people who would think this is an attempt to make people feel bad or sorry wont read it and wont feel like that because thats not what i want. i dont want anyone to feel bad or feel sorry. i just want to figure out what im doing wrong. why i dont really have any friends in a certain sense of the word. 1 thing is that i think i am easily forgettable. 2 things is that i am a pushover. 3 things is that years of being forgettable and a pushover have caused me to be bitter. 4. being bitter makes me tend to be an asshole. 5. being an asshole causes people to not like to be around me and i can use the defense of saying i dont like people anyway so i dont feel bad that nobody really likes me. but now im just making myself feel bad. i do that sometimes until i feel so bad that i start feeling stupid for feeling bad and i work my way back out of it. i dont know why i started doing that but i always have. so no i realize i have friends. i have some pretty good friends. the problem is that they all have friends too, friends that are friendlier than i am. 6. im a very shy person and i have very little confidence in myself. when i try to exude confidence i generally do something really stupid and make an ass of myself and possibly hurt someone i care about etc. 7. once i start talking its hard for me to stop. i generally dont think about what im saying until its too late. this is just a rant because im very lonely right now. not sad boo hoo lonely. not really romantically lonely, but just lonely that i dont really get to see or talk to people that often unless i go out of my way to find someone who doesnt really care if im around or not. so if someone reads this dont think aww justins lonely, and dont think justin is feeling sorry for himself and being stupid. they both might be true but mostly im just getting this out of my head because its been in there for the last couple years. i cant even really think of anyone i have really talked to about a lot of things. i guess not really a lot of things. probably as many things as most people have.

back log

the strength of the drink or
quieting stampede
i believe in sandy hills
hidden by history and laughter
raucous in rye
arcane cactus speaking for me
knowing god and all the sky on fire
how every inch of it is between
the souls of my feet
though i am nothing
in weight
but a spring lying by slow gait
over ground that has layered
dust upon all the fallen

____________________________

cold war-

mth
maybe august
for all of
it/s humidity
finding
a drawn out sommer/s
hands being cleaned
by the blood of billions
of bouncing bison
who saw that happened
from one end of the plain
to the far reaching
black hills but
never spoke up over
the chugging trains
and hapless aim

_________________________

some of these are private.
they are crap.
_________________________

ants

you decide that they
vanish
its partially true
we arent sure where
they go but you say
they just go home

trying to dwindle down my portfolio thing to 10

new york (state)

oh god

where the buffalo roam

and remind me

again and again

how bruce

smith never won

a super—

bowl

no relation

i always thought

my grandpa smith

was from cuba

like the missile

crisis

_________________________

newfoundland

caught myself peeking

ov'r the green—

shadows of ancient

american wars

perhaps a viking or two

once found something

here worth loving

and it becomes

a sinister issue—

where i don't know

how i'm going to tell you

not to dream this

tonight

_________________________

a snow

we were questioning the snow

of its cold

with our faces planted

firmly to the ground

legs up in the air

being dangled by moon

and its arms of tree shadows

you still new me then

when my face was a blue jay

pecking through the nests

of children

and in the freezing depths

of a worthless february

___________________________

titled

over the great plains of your back

roaming bison avoid railroads

in a sense of the plague that

moses never dreamed of despite all the burning

bushes and golden calves he could find

in forty years of searching out there

in the wild of a woman’s body

__________________________________

spring conversation

there are pieces of it over

there on the ground

where

by the tree

the cottonwood by the shed

yes

how did they get there

i don't know

why are you telling me this

because it's getting late and

you wont be able to see them soon

don't tell me that

it's getting dark

i'm getting the axe—

go inside

__________________________________

r and r

erno rolled

down the passenger window

lit his cigarillo

in impatience

reminding us it was november

everything turning colors

and shapes

i kept my mouth shut

a square in my own right

pulled my collar up to my neck

puzzles were

twisting through my head—

candy cane arm bars

two red lights—two read lights

i've been here before

he told me how

his mom used to write poetry

and i said that i can't stop changing

run through it he demanded

nothing is coming

___________________________________

the evolution of panda thumbs—

i.e. the bone that projects—

a branch a broom stick that witch

may swing soullessly through

a field of emptiness no

the eye of one great

white and black bear—

whale all at once wash across

the eternal night ocean

to here to bay to wave

a magical piece or tool

in an up signaling style saying—

good job muhammagod but

in my late days— o’ designer of clocks

where is my gold watch

to fade away with time beneath

the shadows of bamboo

stalking high over my windless sleep

so that i may go on forever

in bed with the unzoo’d forest floors

until my day comes when

i must rise

_____________________________________

summer searching

walking

it was night out

but the summer never really

seems all that dark

i pointed at a star

knowing it was actually venus

and told you

how you can see light

long after

the source dies

nothing else was said

the entire way

_________________________________

venom dots

i notice where

there were once

bald spots on my legs

patches of skin rare to find—

now hair grows

i wonder what

i've been doing different

in my life and assume

i've quit lying—

seven spider bites

pattern up my left leg

i count them

scratching all the while

as if i knew they had always been there

to connect—

i see everything

about myself

laying out on the driveway

beneath the motion sensor lamp

four am nude in june

___________________________

haiku two

a voice coming from each of your false teeth

it's true

you stare at the television set for hours and hours

at close range

and go blind

__________________________

an orange

for carlin

forge an idea

to sit on

sounds as though

it may be

a delicious one

but isn't

he would say

things

and i can't find

the means to dis—

agree

your nose

is a telescope

means everything

to me

and i suppose that

is why

_________________________

(twelve) a natural progression

for—

wasp just wouldn/t leave

the wasp wouldn/t leave just

would—not

i/m choking—i/m choking

i/m going to the grand canyon

this is bad for you

don/t go where i can/t follow

illegally climb fences

irresponsibly mending

and it leaves

it leaves

i believe

you

killing the grass—

breathing in the smoke

i forgive everyone

when i am invisible

i forgive

everyone for everything

and the leaving

the leaving

the leaves

the mending and the

wasp

naked and georgia

forgetting the canyons

i once saw

spend not enough time

explaining why

i feel so much

and eternity is inside

possibly in winter

i will show you

but nothing dies anymore

___________________________

midwest-voodoo-physics-pentameter

for jeff

never ending

sky

not so much the bison

both can be

killed to borderline extinction

i

drive faster the further

things grow apart

between potter/dix

in back country where

the rain is only a wall

that never seems to fill up

this dry bed

who can sleep

when there's no wind break

and the howling is

mistaken for hungry coyotes

nipping at

your feet all

because there are

no more

bison to kill

______________________

circles

burdens don’t mean

they are soft in ghost weight

and spill everything

into buckets of shoulders

storing rain

of the seasons that aren’t

meaning to be

burdens

buzzing ashes take note

to ears and flaps

and underwater speaking

to a game not played

playing it over

between a death

and a death

before swimming takes

reason underneath

all the want and distraction

of where weeds go

to pull themselves

and the spinning earths

eat it up like it’s

nothing

and then it is nothing

________________________

spicer

that marvelous finger

he gave it

after being asked

to take back

comments made on ted

williams' contribution

to the bosox

i was there

he said i was there

when he gave it

but it wasn't worth

a goddamn thing

if you want to win the pennant

and my poetry

does

yesterday i bought a study guide for the gre and plan to take it sometime late august. i got about 50 pages in or so through the study guide and became impatient and decided to test how well i would do on the "easy" verbal test. i missed 5 out of 20. :/

however 3 of those were because i forgot that i was supposed to look for antonyms on certain questions and not synonyms so i dont feel so bad about it.

one word i had no idea what it meant, although i thought i did, was centrifuge. its... like something that is used to separate two things. anyway thats not what im going to ... wait... ok so in order to help expand my vocab i am going to 1. read through this synonym dictionary that i have that has lots of lesser known words in it. its actually pretty cool, i looked through it the other day. overall im not too concerned with the math because, eh, im not concerned. im pretty decent at math, especially when it comes to logic type hooha so im going to focus more on my vocab. but still study math. since... i really havent pushed my brain in the realms of mathamatics in quite some time.

ANYWAY HERE ARE... SOME WORDS... HMM.. hmm im going to look up some words. these are from site that has 100 words you should know for some reason.

acquiesce - VERB - to agree without protesting
alaracity - NOUN - eagerness, speed
arcane - ADJECTIVE - secret, obscure
avarice - NOUN - excessive greed
brusque - ADJECTIVE - short, abrupt
candor - NOUN - honesty, frankness
chide - VERB - to voice disapproval
clandestine - ADJECTIVE - secret
connive - VERB - to plot, scheme
decry - VERB - to criticize openly
demure - ADJECTIVE - quietly, modest, reserved
despot - NOUN - one who had total power and rules brutally
erudite - ADJECTIVE - learned
extol - VERB - to praise
impudent - ADJECTIVE - casually rude, insolent, impertinent
indolent - ADJECTIVE - lazy
insular - ADJECTIVE - tight knit, separated and narrow-minded

Kessler/Myspace/Famous Poets

MINE

hey sucka canadians where eva u r

show starts at 6pm opening bands juliana theory molina and the good life foollos by feist. free. pretty exciting. i think i might go see wall-e. im gonna see if anthony or kyle wants to go. i need a new bike.