1.14.17 3:44AM

Tu Sicaria Prod Beauty Brain — Love it

La Reina Rata

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Ecstatic evisceration.

After an afternoon of art drop off in Brooklyn followed by cuddling with Eric and falling asleep during crime shows, I’m now up in the middle of the night having a protein bar and being amused by a combination of King Of The Hill reruns and zombies of the past trying to affix their names and little not-actually-much-to-tell allusions to online pictures of me and my husband at a gallery opening. They  say never read the comments. But sometimes it’s funny.

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Stephanie

I’ve blogged about the weird experience of finding journals
written by different alternates in the 1980’s and 1990’s.

Journals I have no memory of writing.

I’ve recently found a box of audio taped spoken word
performances by Rob Goldstein from the 1980’s.

I know intellectually that I am Rob Goldstein but it’s
the estrangement from that part of myself that makes
listening to these tapes so weird.

I stared at them for six weeks before I ordered
a cassette to mp3 converter.

It took another two weeks for me to use the damned thing.

I listened to a few of the tapes today and I’m shocked.

I have no memory of these readings.

In fact, I have no hard copies of some of the writing I
performed as Rob Goldstein.

Here’s a a short piece named ‘Stephanie’ from a public reading in 1984.

I was in my late 20’s.

This story about Stephanie may be true.

Stephanie
Written and performed by Rob Goldstein
(c) Rob Goldstein 2016 all rights reserved

 

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After the Reading

Art by Rob Goldstein
Landscape 10

My favorite
characters
have
spilt my guts
in public–

Now I’m alone
with memories

of freedom

though it
possibly
didn’t exist,

was

perhaps

a lie that
convinced
only me.

This globe

spins

for the

sake of

tradition.

Gravity

binds

me to

broken promises,

ex lovers,

sickness,

and lingering

sudden

death

 

Words and image (c) Rob Goldstein 2014

“the dooth pattern” by Harsubagh Khalsa

A friend of mine on Flickr told me that he was toying with the idea of starting a blog for his poetry.

I invited him to post to my blog as an experiment so he can see how his poetry looks and feels on a blog.

Today I present “the dooth pattern” by Harsubagh Khalsa

tieing spirally laces

 

     lips summer from umbrella

         tieing spirally laces

     granting the filament

hard deep suggest then

     it doesnt matter stuff

       it doesnt matter when

   hearting cade

           river nance

         too much piruling

                 a scarry race

                       the scurry dance

                     delected dreams

                         mind beaming the

                             ridge patterns

 

Image and poem are the property of Harsubagh Khalsa.
(c) Harsubagh Khalsa All Rights Reserved