you’re a monster! a monster, i tell you!
you lure them in with your nihilistic theme parks
and your caustic beaches
the promise of Hollywood and the west of the American
west
in the night, your ocean reaches its bony hands under the covers
and digging its polluted claws in, it drags them anxiously
through the fires of Utah and the flowerless graveyards of Las Vegas
i watch all this sleepless from the fragile glass window of my Colorado home
in the swaying arms of my humble mother
rocking me to sleep in a Rocky Mountain high
but how my friends tried to grasp on to those mountains as you grasp them in tantrums
you need so much god damn attention
the blonde-haired blue-eyed boys and the sexual shape of video cameras
this one goes out to the friends i’ve lost
desperate and scared amongst the grey smog and the pedophile buildings
i can hear you laughing at all of this, California
stop swallowing my friends, California
your jewel heart fell into the Pacific Ocean
and my friends are lost, manic and drugged in your vicious riptides
you digest them in your swollen valleys
they waste away, going nowhere in rush hour traffic
listening to catchy horror music on the radio
oh, the California radio! it tastes of silicone
it burns like vodka tonics and the Beverly Hills Hotel
they are all just prisoners there; of their own device
into your guts they go; an assembly line of starry-eyed followers
into the factory; to be printed like Marilyn, to be loved like Jackie,
to be shot like Kennedy
i can’t stop them
they are scared and horny and thinking with their adolescence
they are less reckless, and more self-mutilating
California, i can see the scars underneath your breasts
i can taste the cheap boxed wine on your breath
your eyes are busy telephone wires for crow’s feet to rest on
you’re so skinny
i can see right through you
i don’t care
just please
California, stop swallowing my friends
“Denver is lonesome for her heroes,”
and you are just hungry for your villains
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012
The suck of cities, the suck of the blue distance, nicely captured!
Thanks, Simon!
Only a temporary inhabitant and lost a few briefly there, but in the endCalifornia lost its hold. Have faith. Others have faced that temptation and locked it down.
=) Thanks for the hope. My friends are good strong motivated people, so I don’t really worry too much about them.
“less reckless, and more self-mutilating” Nice.
Thanks, David.
This has echoes of Allen Ginsberg.
I agree. I read it out loud to my roommate and was like “Huh, this sounds very Ginsbergy.” =)
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Reblogged this on mikkiantonio.
Seriously, fucking genius Brice. To be shot like Kennedy… Love that your poetry says something, it’s far and away from the average blog-type poetry that is just people putting out their angst (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Meaningful stuff, and modern, and great images.
Thanks, Trent. You’re a big support. If you want angst, I can show you the stuff I was writing when I was 19?
Bring it on.
Oh no. Trust me. It’s terrible terrible stuff. Shoot me an email at bricemaiurro@gmail.com if you really want to see.
“your eyes are busy telephone wires for crow’s feet to rest on”
Uhm, you’re amazing.
Wow. Thanks, Jessica.
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