sweaty harlem 1975

uptown night after
three days of hot rain.
in an all-night place
we spoke of trains
and coffee spoons
plated in gold, with
hologram prostitutes
dissolving on either
side of a street scene
straight out of the
movie taxi driver

sell your soul

on the corner
there's a guy with
a gun and a purse
of crack cocaine.
next door someone
is putting up blue tarps
and work lighting at
4 am. i know them both,
in the same way that
i know the guy in the new
suit limping back to his
lux condo with a pocket
full of xanax and a
bag full of human
heads

FUTURISM AVAILABLE NOW ON LULU

RAISED ON FEAR IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST.

JUST GOT BACK FROM POOL PARTY AT THE ROOSEVELT IN LA.

MOVING TO NY IN ONE WEEK.

BUY THIS POETRY BOOK. IT'S ABOUT YOUR NEW LIFE.

SUPPORT THIS LIFESTYLE. DEATH OF GLAM.

LINKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Survey For Scientific Purposes

Hello,

I am conducting a survey as part of a psychology experiment. Please examine the image below, which I shot last Wednesday (click to view larger):
+++

+++
Please answer the following question by posting comments:

If the woman on the left punched you squarely in the forehead so as to leave a temporary pattern of bruising in the shape of a crucifix, would you (select all that apply):

1. Feel surprised?
2. Feel confused?
3. Feel acute class consciousness?
4. Feel aroused?
5. If nonreligious, undergo conversion to Christianity?
6. If Christian, lose your faith?
7. If Jewish, feel the urge to listen to NPR (National Public Radio)?
8. Wonder if your drink is HD (High Definition)?
9. Feel unsure of the difference between yourself and Bruce Springsteen?
10. Worry about the impression you will make on a prospective employer during an upcoming interview?
11. Wonder if you are blogging?
12. Feel afraid of the internet?
13. Feel postmodern?
14. Other (please specify).

+++

Thank you for completing this. The data gathered will be used to compose a paper for publication in the journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association. I have a $280,000 grant to study the psychological effects of being punched in the forehead by women wearing leopard-print shirts and costume jewelry.

New Book

My new book of poetry comes out on Saturday.

Street Brotography In The Mission (San Francisco)

Hello bros and broettes,

Below are some photos I shot in San Francisco last weekend. These were generally taken with a zoom lens at between 55mm and 200mm. The zoom isn’t nearly as sharp as the 35mm prime (everything looks blurry after you’ve used a prime), but the results have plenty of resolution for web display. These were all shot without flash. Nikon claims that the D5000 camera’s pop flash has a range long enough to use with this lens. That’s a joke.

Erik's assignment for these is similar to his assignment for the last set of brotos, with a twist: in some of these images, Erik must write poghems "about" or "from the perspective of" more than one subject. I will indicate when this is needed. The titles I provide here are just suggestions. There are even some non-human subjects thrown in for variety.

Click an image to view it larger.

+++
"Akita Evita Rat Dog"

+++

"Baby Driver (Apologies to Paul Simon)"

*Erik: Write about both the subjects.

*About This Image: I have, on several occasions, photographed subjects who are in cars. I do this on foot. I try not to do the opposite (i.e. I try not to take photographs while driving) because this is quite dangerous, though I've done it more than I would like to admit. Photographing people who are riding in cars is easy: I simply find a good location where I know traffic will be stopped and cars will be lined up. Usually, busy two-lane or four-lane roads work best; walking between cars on wider streets is unsafe. It is also best to choose intersections where the vehicle speed is low. A good intersection near where I live is El Camino and California Avenue. The intersection of El Camino and Page Mill Road/Oregon Expressway is a bit too busy for safe shooting. Once I have found an intersection, I simply wait for traffic to stop and wait for a line of cars to build up. I then walk between the cars and photograph people through their open windows (this works best on hot days, when people's windows are likely to be down...shooting through window glass should be avoided). People in cars are ideal subjects because they are not very able to move and quite unlikely to abandon their cars in order to chase me through the street. About a month ago, I was photographing a bro on California Avenue through his open window. He glared at me and asked "Can I help you?". I said "You already are, you're doing great, just stay right there". He did. I memorize the timings of lights so I can be out of a street when traffic starts to flow again. Of course, as soon as traffic is flowing in one direction, it will stop in the other, so I can resume shooting efficiently. The best intersections are those where the light timings are similar for all directions of travel (generally, intersections between two roads of approximately equal traffic volume).

This shot was a challenge because the lighting inside the car was weak. I could have cranked the ISO filmspeed equivalent, but I was already at ISO = 640, and going much beyond that will introduce undesirable optical noise into a subject's skin. If I knew this girl had freckles, I would have cranked the ISO to 720 or even 800 because I find I can get away with higher filmspeeds when photographing people who have freckles. Of course, I didn't notice she had freckles at the time, so this option didn't cross my mind. To shoot in low light, I had to use a low F-stop (a low ratio between aperture diameter and focal length), which meant that I would have a shallow focal plane. The plane in which facial features would be in focus was only about four inches deep. This meant my focus would have to be dead-on, but the light was too dark for me to trust the autofocus, which works poorly in low light. So, I set the camera to automatic shooting (about 3 frames per second) and started snapping shots. I hit the autofocus override and turned the focus ring slowly as I shot, sweeping the focal plane, in the hopes that at least one shot would have the subject in proper focus. This is that shot.

+++

"Young Woman With Curls"

+++

"Man In Orange Striped Hat"

+++

"East Indian Drummer"

+++

"Street Fashion: Flower Woman"

+++

"Girl Spraying Herself With Water Bottle"

+++

"Green Iguana With Man"

*Erik: Write about both the iguana and the man.

*About This Photograph: Yes, that is a real iguana. Or lizard. Or something.

+++

"Hasselblad Shooter"

*About This Image: The subject is carrying incredibly expensive equiptment. He has two Hasselblad cameras around his neck; Hasselblad is the undisputed top brand in photo equipment. Their DSLR's run from about $17,000 to $54,000 per each, and models up to 60 megapixels are available. This man had one medium-end and one high-end camera: $60,000 in cameras alone, I would say. Hassleblad lenses are also very expensive, and both his lenses were name-brand fast telephotos (you can tell they have low F-stops because of the tulip-shaped hoods). These run about $7000 to $22,000 per lens. Overall, this man was carrying $75,000 in camera equipment at minimum.

+++

"I Wonder If This Man Likes Soccer"

+++

"Jesus Christ!"

+++

"Man Adjusting Sound Equiptment"

+++

"Closeup: Pink Ipod (One Of The Perks Of Using A Telebroto Lens)"

*Erik: You need not write about this man twice, but you must speculate as to his Ipod contents.

+++

"Man Wearing White Hat And Beads"

+++

"Mexican Girl In Blue Dress"

+++

"Should Have Driven A Volvo"

*Erik: Write about both the driver and the woman to the left.

*About This Image: This car's radiator had blown out; a stream of steaming fluid is visible beneath the car. The driver drove the car past me to the side of the road; the fluid was green and iridescent, indicating it to be radiator fluid (a mixture of water and ethylene glycol). Though the day was hot, there shouldn't have been all that much strain on the radiator, given how slowly the driver was traveling. I've driven my 1998 Volvo V70 through the high desert (7000 ft.) at 80 MPH and in 110-degree heat with the AC on for two hours, and didn't loose a drop of radiator fluid. It's worthwhile to note that altitude puts added strain on the radiator, since water boils at a lower temperature at altitude, and since the air at altitude is thinner and less effective at removing heat from the radiator.

+++

"Photographer Examines A Shot"

+++

"Young Cinematographer"


+++
"Zebra Feeling The Music"

+++

That's all for now, folks. Peas out. V4L.

-A2

everything you own in a glass box by william neibergall

Danny Devito looked at the wall, looked at Salma Hayek, got up, opened the door, walked down the street, walked back, closed the door, and sat on the couch. Salma Hayek was awake. They sat there in a silence that was uncomfortable to both of them for a few minutes. They both knew that the other one was uncomfortable. It was 7:47 P.M. “I want to do something,” said Salma Hayek. Danny Devito wanted to do something. They agreed.

Danny Devito sat on the couch for a while before he got up and walked across the room to the television. There was a DVD on top of the television from Hollywood Video. It was a movie that had recently been released on DVD. It failed commercially, and it was very sad. There were olive branches on the cover. Danny Devito liked it very much, and he had watched it three times. It had a dog in it. “Do you want to watch this movie?” asked Danny Devito, holding the DVD up for Salma Hayek to see. Salma Hayek sat on the couch for a while, not responding. She nodded while rubbing her eye with her left hand. Salma Hayek was tired. Danny Devito turned on the DVD player and put the disc in. He walked to the couch and sat next to Salma Hayek. They watched the previews. “Why didn’t you skip the previews?” asked Salma Hayek, “You can skip the previews.” Danny Devito did not answer. He clicked Play. Danny Devito and Salma Hayek used to love each other but they did not anymore. Salma Hayek had not loved Danny Devito for a long time, and Danny Devito loved Salma Hayek for a while but now he was asking himself in his bran if he still did all the time but he knew he didn’t. Danny Devito only liked Salma Hayek some of the time, usually when she was sleeping or somewhere else. Salma Hayek fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the main titles and Danny Devito fell asleep on the floor next to the couch after the main titles.

Ten hours later, Danny Devito woke up. Salma Hayek was gone and the DVD menu was scrolling on the TV. Danny Devito walked to the bathroom and put Salma Hayek’s toothbrush in the cup. He had put Salma Hayek’s toothbrush in the cup last night, and now he was doing it again. Danny Devito hated it when people didn’t put things back, because Danny Devito thought that he should know exactly what everything was and where it was and where it would be all the time. Danny Devito brushed his teeth and walked back into the living room. The blinds were open, and the sun was out. There was a scene of green, grey and blue outside the window, covered with a tint of yellow and a grainy layer of dust. Danny Devito looked out the window and squinted. He walked outside, still wearing the clothes he wore yesterday. He picked up two newspapers from his driveway and walked back inside. Danny Devito’s phone rang, and he picked it up. “Hello?” said Danny Devito.

“Hello, Danny Devito,” said the person on the other line, “it’s Michael Buble. I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I just figured out that ‘stressed’ spells ‘dessert’ backwards.”

“So. Who cares?” There was a long pause. “Also, couldn’t you just say ‘desserts’ spells ‘stressed’ backwards? Why did you have to say ‘stressed’ first?”

“I don’t know,” said Michael Buble, “I just did. I could’ve put them in any order I wanted to. I just chose to say ‘stressed’ first.”

“Okay. Is that all you called about?”

“Yes,” said Michael Buble, “Goodbye.” Danny Devito hung up, and then Michael Buble hung up. Michael Buble was in his studio apartment. He felt depressed. He walked over to the piano and began to play “Moon River” by Andy Williams. He stopped during the intro and walked to his bookshelf and started to organize his books in order of spine color, but he stopped. He picked up the phone and called Danny Devito. The phone rang twice, and then Danny Devito answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, Danny. Do you want to eat Chinese food with me?”

“It’s seven in the morning. Do you mean later?”

“Yes. Do you want to eat Chinese food with me later?”

“Okay.” Danny Devito spent the rest of the day pacing around his house and watching the sad dog movie, and Michael Buble spent the day buying tea and sitting down in the park. At 7 P.M., Michael Buble sent a text message to Danny Devito and they were both sitting in a Chinese restaurant at 8:15 P.M. Danny Devito invited Salma Hayek, and she arrived a half-hour later. Salma Hayek was not wearing makeup, and she smelled like roses. Danny Devito almost said hi but he didn’t because he remembered that Salma Hayek told him that he didn’t need to say hi every single time he saw her because they were together and it was implied. A waiter came up, and his nametag said Jimmy Carter. “What you want to eat?” asked Jimmy Carter. He left the word “do” out of the sentence because he did not speak sufficient English. Danny Devito and Michael Buble ordered different kinds of salads, and Salma Hayek ordered something with beef in it. Danny Devito and Michael Buble ordered Chinese tea, and Salma Hayek bought a bottle of rice wine.

Jimmy Carter walked away without saying anything like “Okay,” or anything. Michael Buble and Salma Hayek were sympathetic and Danny Devito thought it was rude. They all formed opinions about Jimmy Carter’s actions but nobody spoke aloud about it because it wasn’t the kind of thing that people speak about. “What did you do today?” asked Danny Devito. Danny Devito wondered if that was an appropriate question to ask. What was appropriate and inappropriate to say was very confusing to Danny Devito ever since he had established subconsciously that he was in a relationship with Salma Hayek but actually not really. Salma Hayek responded, “I don’t know. Not much.” Michael Buble went to the bathroom. “I like you, you know,” said Danny Devito. He waited for Salma Hayek to say, “I do know! And I like you too! I think we should go back to your house right now and play table tennis and talk about what used to happen before we did nothing but sit on your couch all the time, when we used to run, not walk, but run down the sidewalk and see movies in theaters and laugh with our friends! I want to be like I used to be, I want to do the things I used to do that you liked but I don’t do anymore! I want to be your best friend and I want to love you and for you to love me and I want to get married where you want to get married and I want to have children in ten or fifteen years with you!” but she didn’t say anything until thirty seconds later, and what she said was, “Yeah,” and Danny Devito didn’t know what that meant. Michael Buble returned from the bathroom, and they sat in silence. Michael Buble was playing a video game on his iPhone (he owned an iPhone) and Danny Devito wished he had a rubber band or a small piece of paper.

Jimmy Carter returned to their table with a big platter with all of their orders on it. He set it down and returned to the kitchen without saying anything. The restaurant was a big white room with a counter and a kitchen at the north end of it and folding tables like a school cafeteria. The lighting was fluorescent and there were pictures of the food on the walls that were not flattering or professionally taken. In the kitchen, Jimmy Carter took off a pair of rubber gloves and got out his Nokia cell phone. He called his brother. In the dining area, Danny Devito was taking a bite of his salad and Salma Hayek was pouring a glass of rice wine. Michael Buble was finishing a blog post on his iPhone. Michael Buble had started a blog. It had one reader, and it was his friend, Orville Redenbacher. Michael Buble had never received a comment on any of his posts. Michael Buble turned off his iPhone and began to drink his tea. Salma Hayek ate one bite of her beef. “Have either of you seen that new Nelson Mandela movie?” She looked at Michael Buble as she said it. Danny Devito had seen it, but he said nothing. Michael Buble had seen it, and he said, “I have. It was good. It was too long, though, and the actor looked too much like Malcolm X and not enough like Nelson Mandela. It was distracting.” They continued to eat. Danny Devito agreed and disagreed with certain aspects of Michael Buble’s critique of the Nelson Mandela movie. There was a fly in Danny Devito’s salad. He almost decided that he wouldn’t eat that piece of lettuce, but after the fly left, he did and he didn’t feel bad about it. The fly flew into the wall and went back to its fly family. He was disappointed that he didn’t get to eat the lettuce. Its family was disappointed for it. That fly and half of its family died later that evening.

Michael Buble received a text message partway through eating his salad, and he stopped to check it. Danny Devito noted that if he received a text message, he wouldn’t check it while eating. Usually Danny Devito only received text messages from Michael Buble and his dad, and sometimes Salma Hayek. Danny Devito felt uncomfortable to be eating a salad and drinking tea while trying to think of what would be appropriate to say to his sometimes girlfriend and his sometimes best friend. “Do you want to come over?” Danny Devito asked, looking at Salma Hayek. Salma Hayek looked at Danny Devito but said nothing. She didn’t want to come over but she didn’t know if she had an obligation. Salma Hayek was annoyed by obligations. “You don’t have to,” said Danny Devito, sensing Salma Hayek’s reluctance. Salma took a bite of pork. It was her third. Salma Hayek had gone through three quarters of the bottle of rice wine, and she poured another glass. Her eyes were small and grey bags had collected under them.

Michael Buble called for Jimmy Carter to bring him a new cup of tea. Danny Devito did not like the tea; it smelled good but it tasted like nothing. It tasted like hot water. Michael Buble liked the tea very much. Salma Hayek was drunk and she wasn’t hungry. Michael Buble finished his salad and talked on the phone for five minutes with his friend Orville Redenbacher while Danny Devito and Salma Hayek listened. Salma Hayek and Danny Devito went to the bathroom at the same time, and Danny Devito returned to the table before Salma Hayek. Jimmy Carter left wearing a hat with a bored and tired expression on his face and a colony of flies quietly buzzed about in the walls, disgusted with each other and disgusted with the people dining at the Chinese restaurant, and also generally disgusted with their boring and colorless lives. The restaurant’s manager, Spencer Pratt, yelled at a female employee and used the restroom. Danny Devito, Michael Buble and Salma Hayek sat at their table with a sort of perpetual silence that was extremely uncomfortable. Danny Devito felt uncomfortable up to three or four times each day. Salma Hayek was more annoyed most of the time.

The sound of Salma Hayek’s voice pierced through the static silence like a knife ripping through old bedsheets as she announced to the table that she had to leave. She grabbed her purse and left. She had finished the bottle of rice wine. Michael Buble left next and Danny Devito sat at the table for at least five more minutes before he paid and left in his 2000 Ford Taurus. The next day, Danny Devito found out that Salma Hayek had died in a car accident which left a former classmate of his named Michael Moore paralyzed from the waist down and he sat on the couch with his hands over his face for hours, not because of sadness but because of guilt for a lack of sadness. That night Hollywood Video called Danny Devito to tell him that they had fined his account fifteen dollars for the sad dog movie and he fell asleep watching America’s Funniest Home Videos and laughing uncontrollably.