November 29-December 5, 2004: John Dorsey and Britta Kallevang

John Dorsey and Britta Kallevang

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Bio (auto)

John Dorsey [Toledo, Ohio] is 28 yrs old His work recently appeared in many fine publications He is the author of “The Dusty and Lofty Dreams of Middle Class Fairy Princesses” James River Poetry Review Printings, 2004, “Little Boy Beat:Selected Poems” Paladin M & E, Inc , 2004, “The Price of Sunshine” with Iris Berry, Feel Free Press, 2005, and “Harvey Keitel,Harvey Keitel,Harvey Keitel” with S.A Griffin and Scott Wannberg, Butchershop Press, 2005.

The following work is Copyright © 2004, and owned by John Dorsey and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

the majestic sea was crashing into .the window scattering my thoughts .on divinity when david told me james bond killed kennedy and that if i still believed in santa then everything would be alright you’re different he said noticing the warhol book pressed up against my bookbag he told me to stay that way as if i had a choice in the matter and i was ready to say yes virginia .i believe but it wasn’t that easy and suddenly .i couldn’t .breathe and .he kept asking .me if i knew latin .attempting to show me the peace sign on dollar bills he’d found god sitting in this very bar in 1962 .supposedly on leave from the navy smoking havanas .attempting to solve the riddle of the missle crisis in his midlife fortune cookie it had been a warm day but hell i hadn’t even read .the devinci code let alone spoke in .tongues the ghost of a gambler not even able to break even in english looking as if he were dreaming this was motown the design for humanity at 7:23pm where they no longer play the jackson 5 without realizing 6 trillion $’s was taken from the world trade center it was stolen from dick cheney’s gym bag in the basement by carrying a puppy under one arm a seeing eye dog used to read between the .lines and all i kept thinking about is a land where punk rock girls have bad teeth and how barbara dug my poems but how she looked like a drag queen in heat so when we went to this party in downtown detroit i didn’t argue when good ole’ dave said that marie was beautiful because it didn’t take the wisdom of the ages to know that was the truth or even the backing of the british empire which they had on tap it was A B C easy as .1, 2,3 so i sighed .thinking bless you barbara god save .the queen here i rest in the moonglow out with the tide sex pistol sid rubbing an angel’s elbow the shadow of .bop praying with my fingers crossed let’s hope it’s enough because heaven only knows i’m not waiting to be .reborn

Newbie Here 1 in a trance i am suited green for a cabbage garden i have my blue bowl to back me up see there is a table for more than one i can testify to that serious state an inventory surplus .of geeks but i am fed up and adam i want to say that i am ready to change stations i am ready to switch voices with the oracle orange master with forks for arms bees for eyes i’ll trade you bees for eyes and ears to withstand my age i feel it suddenly break a window pop a pillow my piles of papers find a new .life i never could keep up with them 2 life is weird so weird it’s weird and i most contrary in the grass the roof in the mud outrage decide the length of multiple technologies to find me out i see loads of mud and ignore do i see what i want or is it bridges and glacial ice i see my face in back of the train on a trip to the boat i am familiar with alphabet but haven’t learned skateboard or mower that grass riding mower i mow with my eyes i cannot explain i am i am on a very train to the desert in the heat i move my hands to keep bad thoughts away i am i am holding on to mud and i take a long time to keep open my mind to your microwave it has gestures i see it a while once more than enough and i find myself responding simultaneous to my departure my subversive enunciation that i am not in the right room interesting enough i have bike shorts on when i get in the shower i’ve had to stop myself more than once with my head in the clock i saw eyes take shape of the calligraphy groped by the pen and a candle a candle always makes its way in i see dozens of eggs broken on .the sculpture outside and a dozen centipedes crawled through the bedroom window carried away two of its legs isn’t that strange i think it read at the seed of the thought before the text was taken and rubbed down dried pulled taught 3 i have a fundamental responsibility to visit graveyards and instead i continue to use mustard in signing documents to seize protected lifeguards oh how i wish i had used a multi-purpose cleaner on those sea-shells by the sea horse in my dream i dreamt of scorpions and how fishermen seek them in boats seek to catch them in boats undisturbed cages careening in clear water i adopt a chalk drawing broken by cracks in the driveway of mistakes i owe them crackers for their pains they have many pains i suppose we all do 4 this is for the scholastic penguin party your hair around the tree, yellow tying up our front porch to the front door to the order in store for every bird who takes on the embarrassing entity of shutting down a city in case you don’t care in case you didn’t see it i fell down i crossed eyes the phone book moved too fast i lost my place in War and Peace what they say gets mixed up in all kinds of potential heads and i still haven’t decided whether to let this thing go this contagious complacency we castrated the pig so long ago why does it keep showing up to father the mother of its second removed first cousin in-law? like i said my mind does without a swing-set know yellow from green i haven’t fainted though i’m losing the feeling in my left big toe which is on my left foot the only big toe i have on my left foot in case you were thinking i had more than two i tell you sometimes i swallow my hair at night and i dream i’m a bird thing building a nest for my head my gigantic head that’s made a dead yellow number one i take a look and see you make no seasonal job look year-round like you take no road wholly around the heart but straight in and out again a needle but not really 5 so when i come out you will be there by the fountain that looks like matches i intertwine them with gradations of organization around the wheel therein lies grass stick figures intertwined hips and heads may your mind be active it says but also relaxed curves in the road you eggs remember over and over again the rotund i place a stick of by your side you stick your fingers in it i am bleaching my mind widening my palms i have almonds too many too often? tonight i spend in my ear here i am fruit at noon at midnight at noon again tripping over water i spend you spend more i save i lose dreams a deja-vu to break into a room in a hot house to turn off a tape no one was watching to rewind it must rewind the thing so no one hears it and remove myself shut the door i stole a bunch of grapes i guess some sort of juicy jewel i draped them around my neck and walked down the streets with my mom oh my she wasn’t happy with me she said i’d get caught let me wear them i’ll save you she put them around her neck we took off with everyone they caught her put a cage around her that moved like a net but she wanted to keep walking so we did with the cage on and everything