March 13-19, 2000: Derrick Brown and Lex Burkett

week of March 13-19, 2000

Derrick Brown and Lex Burkett

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Derrick Brown
derrick@invisionstudiosinc.com

http://derrickbrown.homepage.com

Bio (auto)

Derrick Brown was a paratrooper for the 82nd Airborne Derrick won the Bank of America award for drama but banks at Washington Mutual Derrick won 20 dollars at age 18 diving for jello and he cheated Derrick sings for one of the oc weekly’s ‘best bands in orange county’, ‘the
john wilkes kissing booth ‘
Derrick kissed the lead singer of Save Ferris on the mouth and she’s Jewish Derrick lives on a small sailboat in downtown long beach It’s called the Billie Ocean Derrick is trying to coerce the free methodists to release the enslaved
methodists
Derrick loves pudding but not Bill Cosby Derrick was the intercollegiate champion in drama and poetry in 97
Derrick was the #2 performance poet in the nation in 98
and knows what the #2 means in medical terms Derrick writes kids show pilots at InVision Studios Derrick has a cd called ‘It’s a jolly holiday with specialist derrick c brown’ that won album of the year, kinda His Father raises emu’s in Houston and his mother prays for people like you
.get down get brown.

The following work is Copyright © 2000, and owned by Derrick Brown and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.

Your New Camera

I could tell you how cotton candy feels pressed hot
against the roof of your mouth
for the first time
I could tell you how surprised someone looks
when they find the thirteenth doughnut
slipped into their dozen
I could tell you about making out in a ballpark
and never noticing that the audience
is cheering you on
I could tell you about an impulsive swim
in the ocean’s night and not noticing the tide
repossessing your car keys and clothes
I could tell you how good it feels
to have the critics think you’re a fake
and still have one child trust you

I could tell you about charging at crows
through a strawberry field
barefoot and old
I could tell you what it feels like to find
an old friend’s name in a phone book
or etched on a long gray wall

I could tell you what a firm handshake means
to someone who just went blind
I could tell you about spending your whole life fighting gravity
and finally winning
or I could show you
If you would just say Hello
but Your eyes- blue dead and still
like civil war heroes
Air Force graveyards

I tell you they bring me comfort and turn
What else could I do?
Please back away from the body
There is nothing left to see here


13 Pieces of Electrical Tape

BIGGULP
The average amount of spiders someone swallows in their lifetime
is ten I am actually part of a study
to determine the average amount of kisses
dogs attempt to steal from us in our sleep .in a lifetime
but you won’t know the results until I die Sorry
HONEYMOONSHINE
So as I’m pouring sugar all over this woman’s body
she says “Oooo, Nummy nummy Pouring sugar
all over my tummy How sweet.”
And that’s when I pull down the blow torch mask
and holler “Creme Brulee!”

REBECCA
There’s something funny about a girl with dyed black hair
and a scar on each wrist I always say
“Ya know, you’re supposed to put perfume there.”

DECEPTION
Those little skirts
that are really just shorts with a flap in the front
just piss me off
HA
I’ve never been detected by aircraft radar Ha
LEGSLIKEABUTTERFLYKNIFE
The cops are everywhere
and some are wearing uniforms
JOHNWILKESKISSINGBOOTH
There will come a night when the whole world falls asleep
at the same exact moment
and no one will be guarding the banks
or supermarkets
or jewelry shops
and that’s a great time
to sneak into the movies
if you know how to run a projector
HUSHNOW
I lay the same piece of electrical tape
over every lovers mouth-
ain’t so sticky now
I wish it wasn’t losing it’s ability to stay

YOTENGOGOZO
A kid named Hector said to me
“Hey I got pennies in my shoe.”
I asked him if that gets a little irritating He said “No silly They’re lucky pennies.”
That’s all I learned from Hector
VOLUMEANDDENSITY
Mass confusion might have something to do with Catholicism

INAGOTTAFAJITA
So what do you like to do?
Do? Um, I dunno Second base, maybe?
I meant what do you like to do here in Long Beach Oh Second base
HOLDINGPATTERN
I am the quiet Mother
watching her children
chase each other around the concrete pool
Air conditioned on the inside Quieter each day
MYRUSSIANJEWEL
My hands turn to Sue Bee Honey
and my nails flip over to reveal pink crescent moons
when I think of our first night together Will it be like a tornado of sheets,
or timed with the cadence of drooling candles
and the bass of pile drivers?
Wild enough to embarrass the furniture Woman girl, I want to hold you
the way grasshoppers hold onto their bows
the way Russia holds all the diamonds
the way sand creatures hold down sailors bodies
the way children hold onto pennies and secrets
Is it fair to say I might not have love with you on honeymoon night?
Cause I might be sore from doing it with you all day
in the train,
under the reception table
and in every public restroom we stop at
from here through all of our North America
.cause I’m kinda romantic So instead, that night, we’ll just have to sit there
speak about all the pieces of electrical tape we ever slept with
and wish we had never touched anyone else.


A Finger, Two Dots, Then Me
( the poem I’d like my future wife to read
when I finally crap out )

Lying together in the park on Seventh,
our backs smoosh grass and I say
I will love you till I become a child,
when feeding and bathing me is no longer romantic,
but rather necessary I will love you till there is no till till I die And when that electroencephalogram shuts down, baby
that’s when the real lovin’ kicks in
Forgive me for sounding selfish
but I won’t be able to wait under the earth for you,
(albeit a romantic thought for groundhogs,
gophers and the gooey worms )
I will not be able to wait for you
but I will meet up with you
and here’s where you will find me:
get a pen-

Hold your finger up
(two fingers if your hands are frail by now)
and count two stars directly to the left
of the North American moon You will find me there You will find me darting behind amazing quasars
Behind flirtatious winks
of bright and blasting boom stars!

Sometimes charging so far into space,
the darkness goes blue I will be there chasing sound waves
riding them like 2 dollar pony ride horses
that have finally broken free and wild I will be facing backwards, lying sideways,
no hands, sidesaddle, sometimes standing
sometimes screaming zip zang zowie!
My God, it’s good to be back in space Where is everybody?

You will recognize my voice You will see the flash of a fire trail
burning off the back of me
burning like a gasoline comet Kerosene Sapphire This is my voice Don’t look for my body or a ghost I’ll resemble more a pilot light than a man now
I’m sure some will see
this cobalt star white light from earth
and cast me a wish like a wonderbomb And I’ll think “Hmmph people still do that?”

I’m sure I’ll take the light wonderbombs
to the point in the universe
where sound does end The back porch of God’s summer home
It’s so quiet, you float
it feels the way cotton candy tastes He let’s me in through the back porch St Peter’s busy in the front
building a catfish pond and swimmin’ hole
for sea-drowned-gray-green souls to enter up from I don’t mind his stories
I just get tired of his voice

So you should know what to look for
and exactly where to go
Take your time and don’t worry about getting lost You’ll find me Up there, a finger and two dots away If your wondering if I’ll still be able to hold you
.I honestly don’t know

but I do know that I could still fall in love
with the swish of light that comes barreling
and cascading towards me
It will resemble your sweet definite hands The universe will bend The planets will bow And I will say “O, there ya are I been waitin’ for ya Now we can go.”

And the two pilot lights go zoooooooom
into the black construction paper night

as somewhere else
two other lovers lie down on their backs and say
“What the hell was that?”


7 Years to Digest Gum

I have your gold, honey humper And guess what? I swallowed it
cause I read a book about internalizing self worth
It said to keep something terrible inside me I swallowed your cool liquid gold It’s dripping off my chin You want it?
come and get it You want the dogs?
I’ll cut ‘em loose I’ve got a soundtrack of dogs crawling on their bellies

The book said to build molds of beautiful marble hands
so you can practice letting them go-
It said to drop them off of buildings
and record the sound they make falling through the air-
and hold on to the sound of the hand
not the hand itself Sound is something we must keep dogs crawling on their bellies

Woman D6 chews gum in bed
She swallows it and talks of bad luck
She says I lay in bed like a fallen statue
Older women have taught me to hold still

The rain tins down
The grass will get so tall
The dogs need a place to hide
pretty dogs

I hold still-keep my hands to myself
Let the spirit touch ya, let it get ya
Come and get it

The dogs are hiding in the grass, slowhoney

Her hovering screen door colored skin drapes me
shadows melt down the lamp shade
We kiss in Spanish
nothing is understood

She has ascended
trapped with the spine of her spirit
pressed to the ceiling
An angel in amber
pulled by the warm steady light
the color of flat Ginger Soda
Pulled deep within my brain, you find my soundtracks

I have a soundtrack of neon windows
buzzing outside my non-electric window

I have a soundtrack of my booze
sucking the Christ out of her

I have a soundtrack of shoplifters
looking for their reciepts

I have a soundtrack of young women’s throats
clearing in dressing rooms

I have a soundtrack of bored jurors
thinking sex
crossing and uncrossing pantyhose across pantyhose

I have a soundtrack of innocent men
hanging by their necks
kicking their legs denim across denim
whispering ‘I didnt do it.’

predators
come caress the hands of your prey

I’ve got a soundtrack of dogs
crawling on their bellies
low in the grass
moving towards the bird

A soundtrack of doors
only closing

Spines banging against the ceiling

A soundtrack with one song learned at birth
A soundtrack of tiny hands
letting go of angels
A very catchy song
looping through the brains
of these dogs.


The Trick

When I am cremated,
Jon Enniss will have to carry my urn
and my favorite things
in a cumbersome backpack,
up to the top of some cold mountain
to lend dignity to my ashes My____
and my_____
and my_____
clanking against the weird fragile urn The weight will slow him down
and there won’t be much laughter He will grow tired
and will begin to think about his own life and will begin to think about how dead people don’t care
where you cast their ashes
He’ll turn- tired sweaty giggling
hike back down the mountain
cast my remains into a doorless, brown, sandy public toilet
And we’ll both think it’s funny Especially, since I don’t want to be cremated.


Why Amerlia Earheat Wanted to Vanish

Amelia asks for forgiveness
looks down at the table like we are playing chess The larger pout of her bottom lip is imported from Uruguay: Ooo-doo-guy Her r’s and the a’s become dizzy ghosts
Distance
The bottom lip, simple as a sentence But the Upper lip
a complex creature
Amelia’s youth suitcased in the upper lip
-ready for wrinkles Lipstuck lipstick lipstock residue in flushed hue
Like she’d been kissing madly
Like she walked off the set of an MGM ending
Cast to kiss sailors ready to die

Her hair looks as if she’d been running with a man
in black and white
through the sets of dangerous cities

Her few wrinkles are just symptoms of sleeping on her face, on her eyes
she doesn’t trust them to stay shut Amelia sleeps on her eyes Amelia ruins pillow cases with her lipstick

Zip focus into the darkness
where her lips should meet
God,
Those corners
For now it is dead in here The fifth of July January 2nd
The black pockets- empty and full like poverty These are not simple Endless Hungry Surrounded Dragging air like jets of the atmosphere
drawing it in
in
in slow motion
drawing it in freehand
into those corner lip pockets The separations open and close-
moves elastic in melody with her chest 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2,3,4 1
air marches in and then nothing more marches out
I could low crawl inside those corner pockets
grab her gums and see if they’re bleeding
to see if she wondered if she said the right thing
To see if there was some sign of wonder or weakness
or nervous
The way dogs watch you after they’ve been hit by cars
A sign that speaks of all normal persons having fear,
a bite in the cheek
a grind in the crowns
something that will give her away…
“C’mon Amelia Come on This is no longer chess, Amelia!”
she says “Shh Save your yelling for sex and riots.”

Peeking at the daylight from the corners of her mouth The dryness chaps
I look for bats or
Sailors initials but
Nothing
I wait under the quilt of her tongue-
unthawed Searching for blood Carving letters on her canines…
“Amelia If you leave, don’t you ever come back.”

Alone in the cockpit, her propellers began to spin.


Lex Burkett
quetzal01@email.msn.com

Bio (auto)

Lex Burkett recently moved from Wilmington Delaware to Fallbrook California to write poetry and fiction

The following work is Copyright © 2000, and owned by Lex Burkett and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.


NYC to San Di

Stayed in motel 6
Bought toothpaste in rite aid
ate in mickey d’s
EVERYTHING else from walmart every 20 miles
Got confused in amarillo
thought I was in little Rock Passed a funeral in phoenix
two hearsts,
one for mom
one for pop
lonely black car behind
Kerouac in shades.


Optimisim

We had to cut him down
Face turned black
Hugh purple cow tongue
Eyes never seeing
Been up 3 days
Putrid
Woosh of wet gas
Note said financial
Woe Screaming on bureau
Yesterday’s lottery ticket
Winner, 350,000
dead dead dead