Performance. The performative.
I need more performance art in my life.

Reading this clipping sped my pulse, made me feel
both as if I were a spectator and a participant in the event.
[ Each is the other, ultimately. ]

A nod to your ghost, Kathy Acker…

I never told you that several lifetimes ago, back when I lived
in a dry county in Nowheresville, Arkansas —
so eager to claw out of that place
the tips of my fingers ached

I stole a San Francisco telephone book from the local library
[ planning, as it were, my ’ great escape ’ ] and
was so stunned to see your name / number listed, I
had to call and confirm you were you.

Sorry I hung up, but not-so-sorry
Caller I.D. didn’t exist yet in that
ancient history

What…I don’t know what else
I could or would’ve said

My favorite writers, artists :
I guess I view them the way most people do “rock stars.”

Even the term ‘rock and roll’ induces eye-rolling on this end, but
I’d stomp my feet and raise a lighter
for an encore

of your life, for
your life cut short —

This world is a cancer : it eats everything
precious, everything
every thing

TWO FREAKS IN A MEAN GOD’S SWEATY FIST

next morning over grits and aspirin
i remembered          jack oh shit honey
i can’t believe i fuckin did that
convulsive recall cut through whiskey obscurity
like the knife
my knife in my hand and jack grinnin it off       just us
friday night drunk again except i was pitbull furied
about a blank spot
i was holdin’ up steel to my lover
i was serious
what do you mean he asked me at the table
so i had to say before god and my coffee
i threatened to cut you last night didn’t i man
more sorries and panicky lovetalk started runnin out of me
until the grin came back        he said oh
that’s right    i’d forgotten all about it      he held that little smile
so long i wanted to scream motherfucker but  i started cryin
instead
he’d been as loaded as me        didn’t know what issue
brought together me and him and the knife and something mad
enough to shank eight years of us
somethin that backed down when he just said
you know sparrow if i felt like it
i could get really pissed of about this            the movie stopped
there for both of us
he was holdin me while i came apart again
me and him know each other clear
to the marrowbones and black mirrors by now
me and him go on anyway
eight years or twenty thousand
sparrow and jack is the road we’re goin down
without a simple love poem in sight
because we ain’t simple and
love ain’t simple
love has vicious motherfucker midnights curled up waitin in it
like when we were naked makin war words
about how if
ordinary common people are shit and i hate everyone
i must hate him too
right then i did but he was the one
who said i hate you first and got up to leave
i gave him my back like the finger      told him thanks
for tellin me one piece of truth tonight anyway
and i would have said more but he kicked me off the bed
before i could and if love was somethin simple
it would have busted like a wine bottle right there
it took us two days to cry about it together
but that man has hands that make me forget sometimes
how much i hate my body
that man can keep tellin’ me after the first thousand
times i told him that was a
goddamn lie
that man is as smart as me and too weird to ever be boring
with his head full of politics and priestcraft and philosophical
terrors
he can tell me about because i’ve got em too
me and him know each other all right
it’s our damnation to
it’s our damnation to know that hate walks beside love
like a shadow that has teeth
it’s our damnation each to live in the other’s
valley of flames
because our demons are crazy drunk
on love for each other
the same way we are
two freaks in a mean god’s sweaty fist
it’s our damnation practiced to perfection
we’ve done it for years
we’ve done it for lifetimes and some of ‘em ended like this
could have
but we keep comin’ back
we’ve got stuff that ruins us for anyone else
we need each other’s weirdness and rage like dope
it ain’t simple           it’s got thorns
it’s got roots that wrap around bones and boulders
all the way to the heart of the earth
sparrow and jack is the road we’re goin’ down
together in this poem
this car with the back seat full of monsters
that were always driving drunk
the hit of murder keeps us awake for the ride
sparrow and jack it the road that starts and ends
in the worlds we have where the other one is the only man alive
and those are worlds
big enough for all the pain we throw around
because we’re men and we can’t help it
all we can do is wrap our arms around love
even and especially when it smells like shit and looks like
the black sponge soaked in blood at
the center of trust’s shattered bones
and around each other after the storms die down

—Sparrow 13 Laughingwand

from Hell Soup: The Collected Writings [ Manic D ]

*Please note: some line breaks “auto-corrected” by WordPress.
[ Apologies, Apologies ]

[ & the ketamine-paced process of archiving media continues . . . ]

Massive thanks to Cara Bruce
for one of the best reviews E V E R

It’s been almost a decade, though I appreciate you all the same…

xOxOx

with mad gratitude to Ara Taylor

Either click image to enlarge,
or

http://picturepush.com/public/4729559

]]> http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/cottonmouth-kisses-review-from-the-bellingham-herald/feed 3 http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/review-of-cottonmouth-kisses-from-bizarre-magazine http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/review-of-cottonmouth-kisses-from-bizarre-magazine#comments Thu, 01 Jul 2010 13:01:00 +0000 Clint Catalyst http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/?p=8817 April 2001

[ Many thanks to Cathi Unsworth —
and, of course, to Bizarre magazine ! ]

✷ EVENT ONE  of TWO ✷

Saturday, June 5, 2010 (West Hollywood, CA)

Catalyst and the stunning Julia Voth are the “featured readers” for Los Angeles’ incendiary new spoken word series: The Poetry Brothel.

This month’s theme is “The Best Little Whorehouse In Los Angeles.”

The Vitals:

06/05/10
“Clint Catalyst As A Commodity: Verbiage For Sale”
The Poetry Brothel
House of Blues, Foundation Room
8430 West Sunset Blvd
West Hollywood, CA
Doors at 8:00 p.m.; Event Concludes at 11:59 p.m.
Linkature: The Poetry Brothel via Facebookery
This Event Is 21 & Over, With A Valid I.D.
Entry Will Be $15 At The Door, $10 With RSVP via thepoetrybrothelrsvp@gmail.com
❧ Or via Facebook (link posted above)

And Now For Further Enticement, In The Words Of Madam M:

“Join us on June 5th for steamy readings, cold drinks and lovely ladies performing burlesque for your titillation. In the old fashioned style of everyone’s favorite Dolly Parton flick, dress to the nines and get ready to be sauced and saucy.

All of the resident ‘whores’ are available for these sequestered readings at any time during the event. Of course, any good brothel need a furtive ‘front’ or cover; ours is part saloon and part salon, offering a full bar with music, burlesque dancing, fortune-tellers, and installations from our poets and other artists at each event. [In addition to the featured readers], each night we will also introduce several “New Girls”…[performers] who punctuate the evening with a few special public performances.”

Music provided by the ever spectacular Daniel Ribiat.

Featured visual artists: Joshua Burian Mohr and Zoetica Ebb

“The cornerstone of The Poetry Brothel is the event series. Bringing a new twist to the tradition of poetry reading, The Poetry Brothel showcases a diverse roster of emerging and established poets.

However, our events are also interactive performance art pieces based on the concept of the prewar brothels in the United States and Europe.”

(Click Image Above To Order)

:: information about ::

“Depression, addiction and mental illness are common problems in the modern world, with one in four people likely to experience a mental health problem every year. Established in 2009, Little Episodes is a not-for-profit organization consisting of professional writers, artists, musicians and actors with two prongs to its mission statement. The first, to destigmatize depression, addiction and mental illness, whilst raising awareness and providing empathy. The second is to provide a platform for talented, emerging and established writers/artists to find community and recognition. We combine the two by giving our participating writers and artists the first statement as their theme.”

Founded in the U.K., Little Episodes also curates ‘Late Night Episodes,’ a recurring event featuring spoken word, performance, music and visual art.  Late Night Episodes is held at the Novas Contemporary Urban Centre (London) on the last Saturday of every month.

]]> http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/new-story-by-clint-catalyst-in-little-episodes-anthology/feed 2 http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/clint-catalyst-interview-in-the-battered-suitcase-april-2009 http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/clint-catalyst-interview-in-the-battered-suitcase-april-2009#comments Thu, 30 Apr 2009 17:15:14 +0000 Clint Catalyst http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/?p=1210

(Click On A Page To Make It Larger)

:: Additional Info :: After The Jump ::

Photography:  Dirk Mai (images one, three and four)

(second image): Sasha Sheldon for Lipstick Prophets, magazine/catalog #one

Cut, Color & Extensions: Irene Urias of Hairroin Salon

Wardrobe, Make-Up & Styling — image four: Jared Gold

Many Thanks to Fawn Neun and Kim Acrylic of The Battered Suitcase Journal of Art and Fiction

As in: it’s now “registered” as a new literary artistic form, the whole bit.

However, with ‘free verse’ being the norm these days rather than the exception,

it seems the most radical thing a poet can do is conform to a rigid structure.

I created one with regard to meter, stanza—the title, even.

The first piece I wrote within this form is published here:

The Battered Suitcase: April, 2009

And I expound upon the form in an interview here:

Q/A With Kim Acrylic

As usual, I’m wordy as Sweet F.A…

so feel free to scan down to where I explain the “Millennial Haiku,” if you’re interested.

Tongue/Cheek?

Fiercely wriggled, please.&.thanks