Thursday, August 14, 2008

Neo Poet Field Guide

Full name: Carmen "King Mob" Tracey

Age: 24

Habitat: Where understanding breaks down.

Range: The Lit(erary Cafe), The Language Foundry, bars with no
one in them, back alleys, dying cities, coast to coast.

Diet: Nate Thor Krieger, Rob Rosin, Michelle Krivanek, Nick
Flynn, Aesop Rock, John Darnielle.

Distinguishing Markings: Huge beard and lobster hands... er, claws.

Predators: None.

Prey: All of you.

Call:


"wish you were here / wine and split knuckles"

graveyard shift: i
sit in th sunroom and watch th lights flicker in th cemetery, th top floor dark
and mine.

th clever, clever dead. so quiet, and still. no sorrow,
no pain. their choke rattles my lungs, grasps my throat

a fresh
coat of black paint

or a swarm of red
ants

climbing.

my boundless envy fr them is mounting,
collecting lk melted wax into a monument embedded at th center of my brain, grey
and ready.

a candle.

a railroad spike.

a
dark root full of blood.

a pillar of ash.

those tricky
bastards. no dreams, no hopes, no heartache.
their nights are flat as playing
cards
and they have managed th spectacle of
nothingness
graceful and
poised,
tipping their hats, saying "goodnight,"
smiling grave teeth,
stepping into a long black car,

vanishing forever.



Contact info:



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I've seen Carmen once - last month during the open mic at the Lit - and her performance was unforgettable. I like the poem you've posted here very much, too, and I'm looking forward to reading and hearing more more of her work.

Cited...

The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau