Khadijah Queen

Issue 14 · Fall 2014

 

_________________________ overheard, misheard or re-imagined

"Do not appear if you do not want to disappear." Foucault

 

 

I lost the poem I wrote in a strip club,

could have sworn I wrote it on the back

of an important to-do list. Perhaps

a persona poem. Something like:

            I am the body hawker

            running from the police.

Or:

            What other people do

            to destroy themselves is

            too obvious for me, so

            I had to use my own thoughts.

 

In that case, the poem would have

less to do with stripping than with paying

attention to the absence of dollars

tucked into a g-string.

Perhaps I should wear g-strings

dangling pink rhinestones. Perhaps I should

practice stroking metal poles with

my strong thighs and painterly hands. Why not

dramatize and sensualize endangerment. People do

enjoy juxtaposition. But what if

just this failing memory is enough.

 

 

 

______________________ Theory: Synesthesia

  

First, I was twenty-five with no sleep    (                        )

&          my body said    feel this                        And I didn't

want to            (                          )  then           It turned into a constant &                   (           )

burned to be felt                  I couldn't harden

away from it                 couldn't ease                 (                       )

or sleep or not-feel        my way away    because it was myself &

what my child could see     (                  )        & what             I was watching

 

 

 

_________________________ where I thought I'd never go, really do or see

after Burning Man, multiple all caps texts & online dating

 

Break all leaving—        take luxury desert night walks               nature deluxe

 

Forlorn men love being wrapped

in blankets / whispering to betrayers post coitus

 

A rich cokehead wants to double you, Requiem-style      COMPLICATED PUSSY FEELINGS (NM)

A certain automatic response: subverted                       pleasure as replacement, temporary resonance

never a nomadic mess—                   a miracle peddler                         

                        THAT'S WHY I CLICK BETTER WITH DEEP ARTIST (SIC) (AD)

 

two weeks recognizing whalebone         metrical vivids

painted over dead Dodge mockups to fly international / sorrow through Bushwick                    mira

 

 



 

NO LOVE TODAY? (MC)        no matching habitat & inhabitant                        cheesecloth buildings    &

Island scrapes mean more than industrial etchings                      theorizing meaning under sound—

 

Augustine horns lining chaste Tuts—rubber reconstructions

 

YAH BUT YAH I GO DEEP (AD)



 

HEY BAYBAY (MC)             an imaginary kiss in Salzburg—       lips read: robot

            read: reanimator           ZOMBIES (multi) riding horses in frothy seaspray, so Kanye

 

MY EMOTIONS STAY ON MY SLEEVES (AD)

 

sweet under condition             escultura                           Kunstbank               lead form

of light, waterline plane / carried dialectic—          divine pneumatic burden   

           

idiom removal, wedding ditties                        destiny of toccatas: "blessed shade"

 

U MAKE ME HAPPY (MC)                   diaristic aplomb                        stylized cocoon           

 



 

            pendulum, pendulum                                      vital stack of shawls

 

HE PULLED A GUN ON YOU (AMJ)

spoiled                         orange flashbacks           nightmare thread           a ratchet Picasso

forbidden Amsterdam               Monaco, Rothko          

SO SICK OF BLACKFACE BULLSHIT (multi)

 

somebody just wear a real snakeskin on a shag carpet, Rudraksha beads in a loose fist

EMPTY PELLET PISTOL (MC)

 

But no              ride Moschino motherships to Mickey D's                    

 

antigravity parachute to             retroviral isle                watercolor hurricanes / punctuated tapestries

reclaimed ego flank—   lie to all parrots                                    lips read: macabre pinnacle

 

polarizing visage:                      Ying Yang twins in space



 

HARDER INTERRUPTION (multi)      starts with cracked earth, dry lace          of rock, radical promenade of phantasmagoric materiality                      destroying la playa entertainment

 

Nod your head if you want to doff all Rag & Bone                       scribble light blurs or get the stones to rope boulders at absurd heights in the puzzling wilderness—            appalling simultaneity

 

figurative permeation—                                    Was it really worth you going out like that—Whitney

 

 



 

hydraulic sketches                     steampunk cures

            pyrrhic lotus       kindled vessel, core effigy

AM I IN THE RUNNING (MC)                                                 fireworks of dust         

Mad Max stacks of bones on dollies                   bamboo mandala                       basalt apex

interlocking gongs the prevailing collaboration—                sonic armature

 



 

science of encounter    deteriorates to sunflower praise                        if amorphous seraphim  escape to a fictional universe                 if colleague disorientation instigates a faux touchstone                  But no

LAST THING TO EVERY (SIC) GRACE YOUR TONGUE

FIRST DAY (SIC—taste) OF PEANUT BUTTER (MC)                                     

 

tremendous mudra       make fireproof charades             centrifugal wraps, limestone

helixes, muladhara awake

 



 

joyous throng in a funhouse dance next to Zonotopia

netted every talisman except    thwarted emphasis and privileged immolation

HE WONE READY (AT)

pistil vault: open                                 

crimson grill, aluminum ears, papier mâché narwhal, netted turquoise—          a chronos eulogy

 



 

this rainforest arcade—             supine enormity, elaborate effigy, kindled vessel—

mass Crayola carnival of reindeer, Ferris wheels, a thousand vehicles rusting into concave timelessness—

a chronic lack of clever

 

FUCK A HUMAN-SIZED BOMB (multi)

 



 

adamant accelerant, risking a lavender               head rising from sand in devilish contour         

not a too-literal rudiment         not a flux of granite intention   no kitchen couturier

refined rejoinder                      jutted revival

 

AN ORDER OF LUMINANCE (multi)

 



 

as if invited into Ghiberti doors—        gilded homage, inevitable scandal of courtyards dust fields of towers & fountains           Babylon spheres                        embodied rockets                     copper wings—

MC:     WHY R U UP               SO EARLY                               (silence)           (blocked)

(unblocked)

 

one can never have enough vats or spires                                   functionless save for beauty      

I MISS U                                   I DON'T WANT TO LOSE U                           (tbc)—