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
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