Yes, We Will

Yes, We Will

Secret Bling

Yesterday I walked into a store and demanded a haircut. They gave it to me. It was a Kinko’s. That’s how powerful we are, DeWitt. We will walk into a new store each day, demanding haircuts, until our heads are sparkling diamonds. Until our scalps are gouged and bleeding. Until our skulls pop out like groundhogs and stare bravely at their reflections.

O is For Orgy

our smiles are better than Santa's
more soothing than Mylanta's
we are the cure to heart disease
we are the only legal opiates

remember when the door opened
when the Charlie stepped out laughing
when the bus turned into a bigger bus

people at highland thought I was you, Jordan
they thought I had written about the top hat voice
remember when I was you and we were big a s the biggest school bus

that was a long last line
we write long lines whenever we want to
Jordan the best dressed dolphin
Jordan smiles better than Santa
Jordan soothes more than Mylanta
Jordan kiss me to sleep like poppy
Jordan star you are the only sun
besides me.

Let's rule without diginity, shall we?

Fuck Marinetti--I Like Museums. I Am One.

The Futurists were ugly.
I like that about them.

But WE, DeWitt, WE are beautiful.
We're like canna lilies growing out of a dolphin.

We can't be contained by cars or tanks
or Mussolini.
Mussolini can't contain dolphins.

We are an avalanche of blundering kisses,
a threesome with the moon.
We're a gin gimlet morning,
teetering in elegant robes,
exposing ourselves to the pigeons.

We are miles and miles.

We toss words like banana peels
and everyone falls for us.

Tomorrow is for Hippies

P.S.: I Ate Several BMWs To Get Here Today And Feel Rather Regal

This is my Top Hat Voice can you tell? It booms and is never lonely. We will distribute it to the masses, and they will become dependent on it. Without it, nothing will boom right.

Voluptuous Postcard

DeWitt,

They named a DeWitt after you and lit cigars. They grew a flag from your navel and planted it on the moon. The raced greyhounds through your heart and everybody won. You make dust motes squeal and large rivers swell like erections. I’ve found your face on nearly every billboard in town. You are Big Mac, a Chevy, and a very large lawyer.

So I thought I’d say hello.

~My Fingers

Cuba Chrysalis

Jordan,

They named a country after you and you want more? A hole in the ground is a whole in your pocket.

Writing is a solitary practice (all the mfa websites say so, it must be true). Why are you so intent on writing with friends?

We are America the Decadent, the Tendant, the Attendant. We're absent. OUt with the age of absinthe.

Do you own a scattergun big enough to shot these big worms?

When I laugh, my harem carries my laughter out to the car. The car is another harem with more torque.

Lovely lovely lovely
all the storms
Lovely lovely lovely
cuba was born
inedible

Let's wear matching white suits today!

DeWitt (former assassin of the fugly)

Rainbow Cherry Little Twister Pop

Dear DeWitt,

What if the dead laid eggs in the castles of France? We could eat them—the dead, the eggs, the castles. We could eat them and march around loudly like big feet in big boots on marble. It would be lovely.

Everything needs to be heavier, especially furniture, just ask Henry James. He’ll tell you and tell you and tell you and your couch will grow heavy with telling and we’ll sell it on eBay: Henry James’ Heavy Couch.

DeWitt, you said if you were famous, and went to Cuba, it would be a thing. But right now—just us. In Cuba. How boring.

How can we turn our things into things? That sounds so sexual. Do you think it will help?

Spooningly,

Jordan

We Should Pay Others to Move

Dear Jordan,

We don't need caviar, we need cadavers, and I've got'em in spades. I got them with spades, I mean. Caviar is just fish abortions, sick, sick, sick. We eat it. Why sure, it's healthy and rich. We're healthy and rich. But a cadaver is a body and that's something you really can't eat until you're rich and famous.

We need bodies, my boy, my rose. I've got so many Corpses it's crazy. We should burn them. We should make tupperware and chairs out of their bones. They do that kind of stuff in France. You don't go to France unless you're famous and rich. The French are boiling cash and selling romance in produce Markets. Let's go there first. We'll pretend it's New York, we'll hail cabs as others have hailed their lord and saviors.

We're poets, not astronauts. We make the stars come down to us. And then little red robinhood, we give them away. We give them away and eat the bodies of the dead. The fattest roe comes from the fattest fat fish. Think of the human roe. Viva los Fran-fran!

Yours/Anybodies,
DeWitt

PS Seriously, you wanna borrow a spade? I need to make room in my house in case I decide to have children.

Feesh

dear DeWitt I realize why we are not rich and famous poets we have no caviar

perhaps some new alchemy would presto

change the dry black beans in the tupperware

to dusky-delicate eggs

we could plug our ears with caviar

and talk perhaps more loudly than we should

DeWitt you enrich the plutonium in my heart and yes

i have been in talks with Iran

but they have gone badly

i don't speak arabic

even english not so good

but i have energy will you buy some?

make out a check payable to 'cash'

and make out with the check

until it doubles in value

that's what they do in new york

we should move to new york