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so/ okay/ skaterboy/ you want to know if you can be a fucking poet, too/ the memories will pull you by the sleeve/ riding downhill on concrete fast/ scabs and blood/ and war/ balance, baby, balance/ we are all so unusual dressed entirely in black/ what other color is there/ to be inside/ it's easy to believe you can stretch yourself back all the long way to desire/ or/ desire is all you know in the stretching/ you would kill to have it/ to taste it/ to know what it might have been/ desire always just inches from sherman's reach/ sherman pleading/ gimme gimme/ even his fingers are inadequate where masturbation is the norm/ they've started wearing t-shirts that say masturbation is not a crime/ i do not tell them what to wear/ i do not tell them what to do/ i do not tell them what to make or how to make it/ i do not tell them what to write or what to paint or what to suck on for that matter/ i do not tell them what to film/ all i usually say is knock my socks off/ usually, they do/ it's enough/ it is hard as rocks, that/ i do not supervise anyone/ do i look like suzy schoolmarm to you/ get a clue/ they do what they want to do/ they fuck with whoever they want to fuck with/ i am not the moral police/ i would be badly cut out for it/ i don't have a problem with how it works/ you want them supervised/ then you do it/ i'm not interested/ i just rock and roll with them/ it's enough/ loving them is fucking difficult because they are, too/ that is exactly how alive they are/ now you know/ they are always fucking one another and then denying it/ like/ i care/ supervise them/ are you out of your fucking mind/ the boys i know/ live with/ live without/ can't live without/ can't live with/ love/ fistfucked unrimmed in prose/ thoroughbreds/ wisdoms/ insight/ little of these and those/ for whatever they're worth/ penitence/ obituary/ fire of genuine epic narrative/ who knows/ get this, jack/ most of them were born in 1993/ everything else is history/ don't blink/ blink/ sucez juste mes petites chiennes de gros robinet karmababies/ it's not my theme song/ it's their theme song/ i begrudge them little/ who am i to dictate to anyone anything about a musical icon/ icons only are/ maybe i do begrudge them their youth some/ youth is not iconographic/ it just gets older/ i do not share their anxiety around their lack of passage in the world/ we don't share that/ i have experience in spades/ sherman and his writerrage/ to le boys tho karma/ is like sooo retro/ nicolas/ pascal/ joroen/ thierry/ henri/ laurent the whore/ jos/ kilian the confused/ aron/ georges/ michel/ jules and his cherry/ francois/ jordaan/ andres the constantly assaulted/ nino sooooo boticelli caravaggio in his dripping wet dreams/ eavan/ conor/ joris/ feel the pain, sherman/ sherman/ sherman in his needs so bad to get laid/ baby/ let me shine for you/ i'm holding on your rope/ got me ten feet off the ground/ and I'm hearing what you say but I just can't make you sound/ the dull buzz of blood flies/ is that all sherman ever smells/ yes/ how many lives have you lived anyway/ alexie/ boy/ one/ i'm holding on your rope but you're just another lost and found/ we listen to your weeping but it just goes 'round and 'round/ you tell me that you need me/ then you go and cut me down/ but wait/ you tell me that you're sorry/ didn't think I'd turn around, and say/ i wanted to know you/ but karma's a trip now/ sherman melting away in tangled gazes/ cock swollen hard/ aching/ slick with precum/ seeks experience/ i'd take another chance/ take a fall/ take a shot for you/ and I need you like a heart needs a beat/ it's nothing new - yeah yeah/ i wanted to love you/ but karma's a trip now/ you're the flame/ i keep runnin' back to you (back to you)/ i feel the pain/ i keep runnin' to you thinkin' that somethin's gonna change/ but now that the story is over/ i m turnin' the page/ baby you're history/ there are other boys standing in line sherman/ who want me/ bad/ then there's one who leaves me standing still/ alone/ okay/ breathless/ my eyes to the sky/ he wanted to love you/ boticelli/ nino fabriano has been breaking down and busting up the barriers again/ i suppose i could always run/ or pass him off as a fucking girl/ i will love him instead of you, sherman/ you will/ yes/ watch me/ i will/ you will/ we all will/ i loved you with the fire red/ now it's turning blue, and you say/ "sorry" like the angel heaven let me think was you/ but I'm afraid/ it's too late to apologize/ it's too late/ i said it's too late to apologize, it's too late whoa/ his was a riding through the shattering/ nino thought he would be a poet too/ writers are the worst/ the boyz make these grand announcements/ beating their meat beating their chests/ hormones like heroin/ most of which i ignore/ as tomorrow will be another announcement/ another chest/ another life they will live/ they will be doing something else/ just as grand/ other lives/ it's what i do/ life-to-life/ the cat/ the war/ the abridged alexie/ exclamations everywhere/ longitude/ latitude/ open-sesame/ a poet/ okay/ whatever, nino/ we're all here with our skateboards just painting your nakedness anyway/ how many lives/ i told you/ caravaggio/ even in his own lifetime caravaggio was considered enigmatic, fascinating, rebellious and dangerous/ he burst upon Rome like an eruption/ it hurt/ it ran thick like lava/ cum everywhere/ our tender lips burning with it/ smoking cigarettes/ setting off burglar alarms/ everyone's a fucking poet/ the inside of your throat, sherman, coated with such honey/ sweet/ little bitch/ i knew that the american poet scene would have to be different from the insular world of mainstream publishing and it is/ nino seems dangerous today/ whose discontented eyes befriend the lightning bugs at sundown/ and the faint labial smell of him and his thin sweat emerging from the goat barn has some milk to it/ the warm kind of milk girl babies suckle on/ poetry is, too, the venom i speak of/ sherman behind such curtains/ we can't fill your emptiness/ hamlet/ we tried/ you are too destitute/ the wheat/ the wind/ the burying/ the poet wanting lifting up/ nino whose imagination whispers at my throat shimmering sequins like the secrets of a ill-furnished whore/ baby you're history/ how could you go/ right when I needed you/ you never showed/ the love that I'm always showin' to you/ now you know that I'm gonna leave you/ you're tellin' me no/ 'cause it's gonna hurt you/ feelin' so cold/ i wanted to know you/ but karma's a trip now/ you probably shouldn't have left me standing alone/ i wanted to love you/ sherman will shit on him for sure/ sherman/ shits/ on everyone/ you can't take it personally/ his shit is half-rations at lent/ living far away in exile one forgets/ just how small and mean any art scene can be in america/ i should be the last person on the planet to lose touch with that reality/ i think i lose touch with it/ because/ i want to lose touch with it/ there's still this big part of me that wants any art scene i get involved with/ to simply live and let live/ do not bore me/ and do not drown the work of other artists with a smothering sea of judgment/ poetry therefore gravitates towards the action of the mind/ and fits most comfortably/ too comfortably which is the fundamental problem with poetry/ into the uncomfortable gasp and gap between the senses and sensation/ finger pointing/ high and mighty moralisms/ other artists/ other writers/ other poets/ everyone hates everyone/ and i wonder how it is people can work in a place so saturated with such tight-fisted snarl/ i would fistfuck sherman squirming/ but/ he's just freaked out is all/ get myself an alibi while i'm there/ sherman's satisfied crazy stuff/ and why is it that someone else's work can't simply be observed/ or experienced/ or read/ without all the paranoia and fry bread hate that creeps into it/ why is it that especially other artists get so bitter and jealous over what other people make that the attack has become the thing that stands out as if it were a performance art in and of itself/ why is there such a ghetto mentality/ minority thinking/ if i pull so and so down -- the enemy and the enemy lists -- i can elevate my own lowly totem pole status/ roaches crawling up to the top of the pile of roaches/ crawling over corpses/ king of the insect hill/ and why is it that american writers especially revert to some bizarre evil bitch queen mode when they see work that threatens them/ another guy steps in the way/ putting the guns back inside their pants/ you got me, tim/ i do not know/ and i don't get it/ and i don't want to get it/ i want to do my thing/ and that isn't changing sherman alexie's diapers/ darkens the sky the color of blood/ and then be left alone/ but no/ fistfucking sherman bent over little doggie better focus on himself get thee to recovery/ locked/ the alarms set to subsistence/ just wake me up when it's over/ so then it's the fight that becomes the muse/ ho hum/ i am so bored by her here we go again/ i'm not really a token/ shut the fuck up, sherman/ wow/ like i am so impressed with spit/ pissing in her panties and wearing her mommy frowns/ an american cartoon whose screams get the dramatic attention required as she denounces everyone in sight/ you and you and you and her/ all the bad people/ ignites combat when she can/ seeing that none of us baaaaaaaaaad people quite measure up to her inflamed sense of contrived tribalisms/ so pouty in the little room/ uncurled/ eros aims his arrows for the heart/ but there is no heart/ only a vacuum where black just pulls you in/ she denounces tribalism/ and if you can believe that/ didactic authority/ wiggles his squeaky ass all over hollywood/ spoiled little boy/ the chief drag queen of the stage/ laments on and on/ drones endlessly/ the other drag queens aren't really drag queens/ they're just men in drag/ where she/ her highness/ is what makes a legend most/ the fur or the fur flies/ the real drag queens/ being more authentic/ sharpening their nails like knives as sharp as razor blades/ and then i find that the man is anything but unique/ and in the small almost microscopic world of poetry/ the fangs come out as if vampires could only make the sound of a vast sucking of someone's blood who had dared knock on the castle's door/ is anyone home/ sometimes immortality/ needs fresh meat/ to live forever/ meanwhile/ the homebodies crawl into my Parisian bed/ seeking comfort/ i am the innkeeper/ and i/ the fool among the goths and vandals/ pretend/ my instruments and hoisting might move them/ even closer/ the boys i know/ live with/ live without/ can't live without/ can't live with/ love/ fistfucked unrimmed in prose/ thoroughbreds/ wisdoms/ insight/ little of these and those/ for whatever they're worth/ penitence/ obituary/ fire of genuine epic narrative/ who knows/ what labial milk runs like a river through my dreams/ i wanted to know you/ but karma's a trip now/ you probably shouldn't have left me standing alone/ i wanted to love you/ karmababies/ sooo fucking retro/ perhaps masturbation is a crime after all/ in the end, i am compelled to teach them everything/ even death/ maybe especially death/ so/okay/ skaterboy/ you want to know if you can be a fucking poet, too/ the memories will pull you by the sleeve/ riding downhill on concrete fast/ scabs and blood/ and war/ his was a riding through the shattering/ scratch the sun's eyes out with your fingernails, sherman/ balance, baby, balance/

Never give interviews in a bar. Bad idea. You forget things. And then you don't want to talk about the things you forget. They never, ever, ever, ever, ever get it right anyway. Tim, they sell magazines. It's what they do. WHAT were you thinking.I wasn't thinking: they're goinmg to fuck me.Well, they were.

My art can be found at Rhizome which is a part of the New Museum of Contemporary Art: NYC. http://rhizome.org/profile.php?1054222 what is a culture war/ the juxtaposition of contrasting images/ helios flees secretly across a lost landscape of bones and boys and biography/ for we were all of this once/ and now our bones are ancient arrangements of measured worth/ back against the wall/ those warrior fields of glistening opposites/ the world begins assimilating temples/ a vaulting of arteries/ nicely opposed voices of the demon-heads/ this desert is troublesome/ coyotes move among the rocks with infinite precision and carefully for the foliage does not hide them or their pups/ the rapture of the fabric of our flesh an indolent equinox gliding like a moth through rooms never really knowing if it will or if it can or if it might -- stilled from time to time with doubt -- find the torrent that comes pouring toward it that we call the light/ everyone's a star/ the volcanic lips of sleepless recognition/ listening to the absolute night/ pain's incisiveness unlit deep where the whispers fly/ to see another world beyond the knots/ in intricate and elusive ways/ so moments pass as though this ragged shining/ before the shutting down/ here's the convert's spleen/ you sink slowly into consolidation bobbing and weaving and sparring/ to attach this rope/ grotesquely swollen/ the dead are afraid to move/ downward in the warm dark/ the secrets knowing beyond the burning glass/ an agony burdensome beyond all correction/ and so the inward stillness of calamity craves desire/ concentration/ vigilance/ a stirring beneath the skin/ makes of me a survivor/ wet with a collection of mornings as the fog comes in/ and by this balanced act/ pleasure keeps a different time/ to make of moments/ flares/ bedrooms/ rigorous tomorrows/ the dying all over town with the life ripped out of them/ enduring this chill/ this monotony/ this vital marking time/ the final fireworks before the marching boots/ and hanging on/ to finally seal itself/ you/ drawn through your summer's eyes/ because the men loved you the most/ sifting through the dust/ your halting speech/ tethered to the floating/ thread by thread/ analytical/ staring down with those dark kind eyes/ mutilates this soul/ i used to have/ buried in the gestures of our sleep/ i say/ i scream/ i insist/ it comes down to this/ shade to pagen shade/ shadow to shadow/ your intruder's touch/ like knives/ this truce/ we have wrought from war/ in blindfolds/ must now be signed/