The Devil's Wine

Overheard In My Head

2007-07-26T11:01:00.000-07:00

I switched to Typepad some time ago-- so check me out there.

Overheardinmyhead.com

Fortune Cookies

2004-12-28T15:33:00.000-08:00

Those bits of paper, entombed in kaolin
polished crust shaped like hooves,
find their way into everything:
my wallet, journal, mind.
More pervasive than weeds,
their maxims tangle my life in ways
I have yet to fully discover.

2004-09-20T13:18:00.000-07:00

the boy was so easily swayed
by shiny things
cake
singers
that he never took time
to cultivate
a sense of self

excerpt from "Spamsters"

2004-05-28T16:22:00.000-07:00

My sister sat in the living room in front of the television. As always she was looking through her Tiger Beat and other pre-teen magazines.

“What’s on TV?”

“A 'Charlie Brown Christmas.' Why?”

“Because Piggy should watch it too!” I started to run off into my bedroom to get Piggy.

My sister called out after me, “Are you retarded or something?”

I stopped and turned around, “No.”

“I think you are. You’re totally an MR-MR running around with a can for a pet.”

“I AM NOT A MENTALLY RETARDED MONKEY RAPER!” I screamed. “And Piggy’s real, and mom said I can get another one tomorrow at the store!” I ran down the hall and picked Piggy up out of her cage. I walked back into the living room and took my perch on the couch above my sister who was now lying on the floor. I could tell Piggy enjoyed “A Charlie Brown Christmas” because she sat so contently while it was on.

In bed that evening I tossed and turned with anticipation about getting the new friend.

Trepanation

2004-05-23T19:53:00.000-07:00

The red of the walls bled through the panes of translucent plastic sheeting she applied to the sides of the room. A placement tray, sterilized with hibiclens soap was equipped with a scalpel, drill and bits, gauze and potions of sodium chloride, Lidocaine and Epinephrine. He read the box of latex gloves, size medium, ready to be donned by his girlfriend. He remembered his mother’s hands that used to freely pat his head.

He had already prepped a portion of his head, three inches by three inches shaved, with a orange disposable razor. His scalp was smooth and clean. “Choke me,” he said “to map my veins with this blue pen.” There was no hesitation as a hand wrapped around the front of his throat and a diagram was drawn.

A hypodermic needle, filled with a 1cc mixture of Lidocaine and Epinephrine punctured the canvas of skin. The area went numb, the room quiet. She took a scalpel and made a half moon incision larger than a nickel but smaller than a quarter. “I want to have a sense of God” he muttered.

Forceps and fore fingers pulled at the skin. It was adhered stronger than she thought. The scalpel sawed the flesh from the skull. Sodium chloride irrigation helped wash away the blood. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” she pressed.

“Yes.”

The Dremmel with ball and flame-shaped burrs were used at drill speed 4. The buzzing reverberated through his jaws, down his spine, to the tip of his toes. She drilled and irrigated. The bone turned to dust. Twenty minutes, thirty minutes, marrow. Drill speed 2. One hour— meninges. It opened.

His brain pulsated. A sign of success. “Let’s widen the hole.” The drill went on, slowly. Her hands moved with trepidation. “I can’t widen it anymore.”

She unfolded the skin. Using a needle, thread and a whipstitch she sutured the incision.

He sat up and looked at her for the first time. She patted his head ever so lightly. He knew all for the first time. He saw his mother sitting there, tears in her eyes with medium sized hands.

Porn

2004-05-23T19:51:00.000-07:00

The gray concrete walls are patterned with trowel combed waves. I finger a chip, heart shaped, jagged with sand and bits of rock. Condensation collects in my hand.

Gill tapping on his keyboard makes the sound of popping corn. Moans on the editing monitors swell into the room. “That cock-shot could be better.”

On the desk chip grease seeps through the white paper bag, now translucent like fine skin. In a stretch I can see the skylight, metal wire meshed between pieces of glass, dividing the sky up above.

Someone’s burning toast. Smoke curls hang from the ceiling.

“Do we have another shot of his ass?”

·

Trapped beneath smoke curls

Five Day Observation

2004-05-23T19:50:00.000-07:00

2/10/04

Coffee beans, roasting. Percolating conversations. Traffic. Shouting. Clanging homeless cups of change, spiritual hymns punctuated by coughing, the buzz of BART underneath the street.

Piles of shit. Smelly awful shit. 16th and Capp, the Mission’s toilet. Pigeons. Lots and lots of pigeons. People and pigeons, pigeon-people. Don’t feed the birds, don’t feed the birds.

Busted. Cop lights. Blue and red. Swipe employees smoking cigarettes in the garage. Smelly smoke curls hanging from the ceiling. Grecian goddess hair.

2/11/04

Fallen Angels. A concrete wall with a heart chipped out of the center. Shallow and cold, I can run my finger across it and feel the roughness of sand and stone. Trowel marks combed through the surface make waves, gentle undulating waves, the rush of the traffic outside is the water.

Watermarks drip down to the wooden floor. Damp walls, rusty bolts—looks like urination marks. I bet they’re urination marks.

2/12/04

Lights, camera, action! “Out of all new HIV cases world wide, 30% are white.” Should that be Caucasian? Sirens and busses fly by as I talk into the camera. “Four fluids transmit HIV: Seamen, Blood, Breast Milk and Vaginal Fluids.” I was the only person to get that right today. Ding-ding-ding! I wanted to snicker when I said “vaginal fluids.”

Passers by stop and gawk for seconds before moving to the corner to drink from brown paper bags and shoot craps.

“When’s this going to be on?” I ask.

“Tuesday. Tell us more. Tell us your story. Tell us a story about you.”

“Do we have that much time?”

2/13/04

Noisy bus crowded with people—body odor mixed with 100 proof cheap liquor. Burrito in hand, chip grease seeping out the white paper bag, now translucent like fine skin. I get off. A kit of pigeons whirl, swirl, twirl in the air as if caught by a tornado. A chill in shadowed air, uncomfortable, fleecing body heat. Homeless man wrapped up in newspaper—yesterday’s NY Times, I haven’t read it, the article I want is beneath his right torn shoe. I wonder if I can jimmy it without him knowing?

2/15/04

Pin teeth, little daggers, the puppy is chewing on me. Humping my leg, at 9 weeks-old, that seems too young.

Feed him sausage, freeze-dried lamb lung, I can see the bronchial branches. They’re beautiful, garnet red in tan cases; the puppy thinks they’re tasty.

Pee puddles on the floor. The carpet repels them. It sits on top like a liquid glacier, mercury from a broken thermometer.

It’s warm in the apartment. The gas heater is open fully. I could bake cookies. I could go down the street and show off Stewie. I could nap.

Napping sounds good.

Stewie’s breath smells like puppy chow. Puppy breath is stinky.

A Certain Kind of Love

2004-05-23T14:49:00.000-07:00

(Safer Sex Between Men*)

Handle with care.
Men can be torn
(they are fragile)

by fingernails
and
sharp objects

such as
jewelry, zips and buckles
BD/SM

leather whips

put the condom on
(put the condom on)

quickly
before the moments passes

when the penis is ERECT
(when isn’t it?)
you may feel

warm/hot/buzzed/blistered

contact between the penis
the penis
the penis

and your

partner’s body
can be hazardous/habit forming

fluid released from the penis
clear/milky
during the early stages
of an erection can contain

sperm
and
organisms

swimming along, swimming along

that can cause STDs
(Not a misspelling of STuDs)

Tear along one side
of the foil
do not fumble, do it with finesse/ease

acting like a seasoned pro a
condom commander

being sure not to
rip the condom inside
or
outside

above the china basket
or the restraints

in the bushes

on the counter
of Wendy’s or Burger King

Quarter Pounder

carefully remove the condom
treat it like it’s holy

air trapped
in the condom could cause
it to break

set it free

to avoid this:

squeeze-the-closed-end-of-the-condom-
between-your-forefinger-and-thumb-
and-place-the-condom-over-the

ERECT PENIS

be sure that the roll is on the outside

slave

whilestillsqueezingtheclosedend

use your other hand
the left or right
the one without the

cat of nine tails
the one that’s not
covering your partner’s

mouth

unroll the condom gently down
the full length of the penis
the span of the shaft

the extent of the ERECTION

make sure the condom stays
in place

don’t staple it/
use a hot glue gun/
bubble gum

it doesn’t work

during sex
if it rolls up
roll it back
into place

dummy

immediately
if the condom comes off
withdraw the penis

jump into a hazmat suit
press the alarm

ALERT—ALERT

and put on a new condom
before intercourse
continues

to ensure we keep making money
use another Durex
“the world’s leading condom brand”

Rejoice in Ejaculation

Halleluiah!

soon after ejaculation
(was it as good for you as it was for him?)

withdraw the penis
like cash from an ATM

while it is still ERECT
by
holding the condom firmly in place

carefully, carefully
slowly, slowly

remove the condom only when the penis is

fully
withdrawn
finish through—don’t be lazy

keep both the penis and condom
clear from contact with your
partner’s body

DANGER—DANGER

dispose of the used condom hygienically

wrap the condom in a tissue and place it
in the trash

between the windmills
or
or at Buena Vista Park

(do no flush it down the toilet—

no matter how badly you want
your sperm to swim free)

NEVER USE A CONDOM MORE THAN ONCE

* Instructions taken from Durex Condom’s instructional pamphlet of condom use— Durex “the world’s leading condom brand”.

Your Tattoo

2004-05-23T14:36:00.000-07:00

Not so often in the minutes in between
You soften

You take off your tattoo and place it on me
A romantic gesture, subtle

Often in the hours outside
You harden

You take off your tattoo and slap it on me
A brand, obvious

The Skinning Tree

2004-05-23T14:20:00.000-07:00

Upon returning from Sunday school in our best
We watched with rapture the sacrifice
Of what would be our meals for months to come.

The skinning tree in the front yard
All the kids came to watch
The pealing of flesh from
Deer and boars, the sawing
Of the feet to help drain the blood.

The knife which resided on my father's hip
Now in his hand, parting the belly to spill the guts
A feast for flies which waited on the ground.

"Can I have the tail?" one kid would ask.
"Only if your mother doesn't get upset."
And off the kid ran with his new souvenir
Gleefully waving it around frightening the girls.

The rope on the tree hung all year round
Never being loosened, strangling the branch
The grass never grew
Where the blood had emptied
Leaving brown patches vacant of verve.

The dry scent of fresh death
Loitered on the wind
Assaulting noses and stomachs, inducing gags
But somehow the hunters reveled in the foulness
Covering their bodies with the ends of the beast.

Cafe Women

2004-05-23T14:18:00.000-07:00

Staring and sitting the women snicker, loose
heads bopping back and forth like dashboard
ornaments or chickens pecking for food, and
they cluck and cackle about me for they are
too weary with their own lives that they must
comment on mine.

Washateria

2004-05-23T14:16:00.000-07:00

I saw a woman jiggling her belly. Nose large
as a kitchen cabinet knob, her hair in rollers
bigger than soda cans. A tattered
handkerchief on top of those cans, tied with a
knot hoping to stifle her hair. Laughing,
laughing, laughing, having a good time--
watching the dryer spin 'round and 'round.

Urinal

2004-05-23T14:14:00.000-07:00

Once white, stained yellow
Shelled enamel fixture
I gently respect
In the temple of
Mint riding torrent malodor--
My nose takes offense, I
Take aim with one-eyed Pete
And add my essence, stron
As asparagus to the soup
Made earlier by tens of men.
I do not flush for crimes
Come from cleanliness.

Hot Heads

2004-05-23T14:12:00.000-07:00

The matchstick men jump out
Of there boxed cars
Red bald grainy heads upon pale
Soft wooden pole bodies--
Longing to burn some idea
Into ashes and soot.
When they fins a queer belief
They scratch their heads
And ponder why
They so easily go up in flames.

Fruit

2004-05-23T14:09:00.000-07:00

Words

f
a
l
l
i
n
g

from your mouth

bitter fruit from
a sweet
tree

Perfection

2004-05-23T14:08:00.000-07:00

I often wonder what it is like to be perfect...
the I think about
Barbie and Ken, and I say
hmmmmmmmmm, no genitalia
that is what it must be like
to be perfect.

Horizon Laments

2004-05-23T14:05:00.000-07:00

The blood of the sun
Puddle in the sky
A choir of birds chanted unto dusk
Bringing the cloak of night to veil
What was left on the earth beneath.

In the valley
Steeds of destiny danced
Jubilantly across the soaked fields.
Once mighty men fell,
Making this their infinite grave
On the soil they did not call home.

Raptured souls with bodies strewn
Murdered marionettes, their wires cut
Loose and limp they lie
In numbers too great to count.

Only the horizon laments
A requiem unheard
For no one was left to listen
Except for the choir of birds.

Raptures and Reveries

2004-05-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

I pray for a release sweetened
Via the hands I know
Culminating the joy of etched tissue
Dribbling my syrupy essence

Guard it, honor it, and await it
Billowing in the tepid water
Not unlike the tea leaves
Trapped betwixt the cloth

Auriferous, my ore is automatic
Though few gain its value
So I plead freedom
Grant me the passage
The words and the sluice
To which my furture may flow

Although the tides bring capricious
Raptures and reveries.

Sundays

2004-05-23T13:58:00.000-07:00

Every Sunday I am told
God hates me
The preacher spits from his pulpit
I'm an abomination to the Lord's nation

Immoral as a murderer he states
Quoting a text thousands of years old
I hear Leviticus, I hear Proverbs, I hear
Names I do not know and laws I do not follow.

And each Sunday the sheep raise limbs
And speak with a thousand tongues
And pray for me so deeply
I wish I could die

Stab me in these eyes
So I may be blind --
the only way I'll seek mercy.

They say I should burn in Hell,
Or be tossed down a bottomless well,
Cast me into a Lake of Fire
Burn me with their humanly desires.

I have been presented with enough
1)Guilt
2)Shame
3)Blame
I could star in my own religion.

Ask for forgiviness
I am told to pray
Each and every day
By the church goers
Who are supposed to be like kin
But don't they understand
In order to be forgiven

I HAVE TO BELIEVE IN SIN?

To all of them
Who don't turn a cheek,
If it were all about an eye for an eye
We'd all be blind.

I am here today to say
I AM THAT TO WHICH I PRAY

So take your hate
and throw it away

I am here today to say
I AM THAT TO WHICH I PRAY

I am that to which I pray.