Friday, March 26, 2010


some sofa opened a can of bacon on me in pretend last nite on the sofa where you used to sit and i would sit on the other sofa and

everyday in the wall on the opposite side of my building a man comes and opens a box and puts abodhfoaiusdofiuasodifuoasiudfoiuasodifuaposidufpoiausdpoifuaposidufpoiausdpofiuasopdifuopaisudfpoiuasopdifuaopisdufopiajsd;ofja;skdjf;lkajsdl;fkja;slkdjfl;kajsd

why am i bothering to pretend i care about anything but tacos today or yesterday and not even tacos but the negative image of them leaving me in the gym room where every night for the past two weeks this kid has come in right after me around 11 pm and turned on the tv as loud as it will go to watch espn while i am on the stationary bike reading a book because i fucked up my ankle kicking the wall in the bathroom out of terror even if that's not really what i did

with the tv on and running my muscles there are two sets of words

i can place the brain on one or the other mostly and sometimes there are whole walls that get made

the kid always comes in before and leaves after me

the other night another guy told me not to drink the water from the cooler because there is black mold in the spigot, i have been drinking the water every day for as long as i can remember since we moved back in, except for the weeks they blocked the gym to do landscaping though i never saw anybody doing any work

that one night there was the naked woman having pictures taken of her in the window and i was walking past below and i did not stop even when she had her hand on the glass between us and was smiling

when i came back after exercise she was gone

i know i went and stood a second near the brick beside the pool and there wasn't any smell

the night we had to leave and go see a movie because the a/c broke

yellow undertone of bathroom light that isn't really a color at all

you took one mirror i kept the other
please come get mine
or bring yours back

boy aphex twin mostly sucks
but a lot of people still have him on their computers

not going to say anything else about anything else except the crap ringing my ears from the blue earstopper things i got from jamie's wife that block out so much sound, it's like sleeping in someone's armpit, i still haven't washed the sheets since the last day your stuff was all over the floor

the color of the floor is dark enough that when you scratch it it really shows

in the ice machine there is one huge crag of ice that almost all the cubes that come out stick to, and then there are the dozen or so cubes that hang out around and underneath that and are easy to pick up and use to cool a drink

i bought three kinds of soft drink last time i was at the grocery but two of them have caffeine though they did not seem to have caffeine when i bought them so now there's only one kind i feel ok enough about to drink at night, and i still don't stay home in the day, so

the neighbor's dog started barking again
i guess she took off the machine that squirts it
in the face when it makes noise

in bed i think about cutting a hole into her apartment
so i can go sit beside the dog and look into his mouth
when the other neighbor lived there for a while i thought
he was making meth in the bathtub and maybe the station might blow up
that was before the tornado hit the building and after that you moved in
i'd put an official count here of the number of days
but i have no ideas


Drunk and Lonely Men said...

Hi Blake,

I edit a small lit journal called Pear Noir! (, and I am writing to solicit something for our next issue. I was impressed
with your piece in the MLP anthology, and I think your work would be a good fit for our magazine. Recent contributors include Lydia Davis,
Russell Edson, Ben Greenman, Etgar Keret, and Barry Yourgrau. New work by Sarah Manguso, Mike Kinsella (Owen / American Football), and Fred Thomas (City Center / Saturday Looks Good To Me) will be appearing in PN!#4.



Alec Niedenthal said...

this is a very beautiful post

Syme said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Syme said...

i take severe umbrage at your apparent seething hatred of all-things-aphex. severe.


M.F. Soriano said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
M.F. Soriano said...

The hallway door is open and I feel like smashing my face against the desk.

Voices come in my door from the hallway, chipper and inane, oh my god your phone is so weird. I want to smash my face.

I want to smash my face to bring an ending. Not necessarily of anything grand, but an ending to something holding me now that I want to forget.

I press my face against the faux wood in a practice test for the full-swing smashing. My breath fogs on the faux wood surface. The faux wood does not receive my warmth.

I throw my head back at the end of my neck’s reach, my spine arcing, my brain settling heavy in the bulb of the back of my skull.

I whip my head forward, my skull like an iron ball at the end of my spinal column chain. I whip my head forward and the world blows by my cheeks.

I smash my face.