Mungo Millenium, Best of (+ bonus new image and link)

The last 6 months of 2009, anyway. It’s a young blog.

6/2009
Post-Civil War Re-enactment
Not Really*
It really is a lion

7/2009
The goddam regrets
How poets die

8/2009
Things to do on a plinth
Achy
Things like other things
Girl World

9/2009
Counterpoint
Some strange gravity
Stockings
Maybe crying

10/2009
We are in love
It’s nothing, nothing at all

11/2009
Lucia, Luis, and the Wolf
Easter Rabbit is here
Also, eggs

12/2009
I wanted to fuck a robot
I cried once when snow stopped falling
Somewhere graphite grey
A fastening

A fastening

Doris Cross

words support words, even as a column is built of mortar and stones –Doris Cross

Reasons fall apart

I’ll sleep just like a match inside
Your paper lantern heart

Somewhere graphite grey

Angela Simione

Hermitting
Angela Simione

I’ll go through all my papers today
Sort through the poems and paintings and make a home
there: between the ink and the page. Delicate
strange,
a forgiveness I can accept, somewhere graphite grey.

Smelling like melted wax and lit cigarettes,
hair shoved back in barrettes,
avoiding the phone and door knocks, slinking
shyly among strangers, admirers, and mothers.
I have a hope.

mending myself with a crochet hook, tangling
up a garden of black and white flowers,
avoiding chores, pajama noon
I am a kid again.

new white,
burritoed in blankets, eyebrows kissed and
notebook in hand.

Lizzle 1 & 2

Art by Amy Earles

Around my bones

I am made of other people’s things.

Christmas morning

I cried once when snow stopped falling

Crankbait has the entire documentary assembled here.

I wanted to fuck a robot

So you want to be an astronaut
Rebecca Loudon

what hoodoo did you encounter
in the swamp
prying open shells with your hook
grip tight enough to turn a flywheel
six hash marks today
track your compulsion
slake your blue-
veined Jesus

clouds puckered from the north
at Yaquina Head steam rising
a constant foot-deep howl
I examined my body in hotel mirrors
that was my job across the country
Oregon Idaho Montana Illinois Virginia
coffee and a compass
my hair shorn
rolled whiskey in chloroform
worshipped your tongue’s pink pelt
holy holy holy
hot wet cloth pressed to a boil
on my pudendum

I wanted to fuck a robot
have him lurch above me
metallic thumb inside
his nictating lens
hey rube hey rube
I danced in a whirlygig dress
sea smell throbbing up

let’s fly in an aeroplane no storm but the Perseids
zip above the James River while all the tweeters
in the meadow tweet holy holy holy
lifted by a spaceship that proves
the great inconvenience of love
green lights spraying underneath
your metal thumbs
your Duchenne smile

They have voices like human beings, but their roars are proverbs.
–Henry Darger

My cybernetic eyes

Organoptropy
Jason Christie

In this picture, my cybernetic eyes quickly
acclimatized to the early sun, which is amazing
but I still maintain that I am not a robot.
My travelbot mailed you a postcard with
pictures from our trip to Spain on the front.
His handwritten message on the reverse remains
illegible, I thought it said: “You should see this
view!” My wife could hardly believe her new
eyes and ears. She said: “I’d cry if I could.
I’m crying on the inside.” When she asked
about the fuzzy haze on some of the shots,
I said: “I never really liked that robot camera
anyway.” Anyway, last night I voted for the
robot candidate, even though her main platform
policy is the extermination of all human beings.
I believe everyone deserves a chance in a
democracy. “In a democracy no less!”
the robot Optometrist said, “I can’t
believe my eyes.”