Untitled - By Alexandria Victoria Long

Pablo Picasso was a genius That could get it up. Henry Miller was a genius that could get it up. Basquiat was a genius that could get it up. Jackson Pollock was a genius that could get it up. Jimi Hendrix was a genius that that could get it up. Oscar Wilde was genius that could get it up. Man Ray was a genius that could get it up. William S. Burroughs was a genius that could get it up. Miles Davis was a genius that could get it up . I stand elected. By- Alexandria Victoria Long

John Cooper Clarke - Chickentown

Walk me ( short) - Alexandria Victoria Long

I walk - right?
I walk and walk - right?

I walk - sloooooooow

Left- my keys
Back there
Go back!
circle

Right?

Rain Has Fallen All the Day

Rain has fallen all the day.
O come among the laden trees:
The leaves lie thick upon the way
Of memories.

Staying a little by the way
Of memories shall we depart.
Come, my beloved, where I may
Speak to your heart. -James Joyce

SYLVIA PLATH PERFECTED

My mouth blooms like a cut.
I've been wronged all year, tedious
nights, nothing but rough elbows in them
and delicate boxes of Kleenex calling crybaby
crybaby , you fool!

Before today my body was useless.
Now it's tearing at its square corners.
It's tearing old Mary's garments off, knot by knot
and see -- Now it's shot full of these electric bolts.
Zing! A resurrection!

Once it was a boat, quite wooden
and with no business, no salt water under it
and in need of some paint. It was no more
than a group of boards. But you hoisted her, rigged her.
She's been elected.

My nerves are turned on. I hear them like
musical instruments. Where there was silence
the drums, the strings are incurably playing. You did this.
Pure genius at work. Darling, the composer has stepped
into fire. - ANNE SEXTON

The Broken Tower by Harold Hart Crane

The bell-rope that gathers God at dawn
Dispatches me as though I dropped down the knell
Of a spent day - to wander the cathedral lawn
From pit to crucifix, feet chill on steps from hell.

Have you not heard, have you not seen that corps
Of shadows in the tower, whose shoulders sway
Antiphonal carillons launched before
The stars are caught and hived in the sun's ray?

The bells, I say, the bells break down their tower;
And swing I know not where. Their tongues engrave
Membrane through marrow, my long-scattered score
Of broken intervals… And I, their sexton slave!

Oval encyclicals in canyons heaping
The impasse high with choir. Banked voices slain!
Pagodas campaniles with reveilles out leaping-
O terraced echoes prostrate on the plain!…

And so it was I entered the broken world
To trace the visionary company of love, its voice
An instant in the wind (I know not whither hurled)
But not for long to hold each desperate choice.

My world I poured. But was it cognate, scored
Of that tribunal monarch of the air
Whose thighs embronzes earth, strikes crystal Word
In wounds pledges once to hope - cleft to despair?

The steep encroachments of my blood left me
No answer (could blood hold such a lofty tower
As flings the question true?) -or is it she
Whose sweet mortality stirs latent power?-

And through whose pulse I hear, counting the strokes
My veins recall and add, revived and sure
The angelus of wars my chest evokes:
What I hold healed, original now, and pure…

And builds, within, a tower that is not stone
(Not stone can jacket heaven) - but slip
Of pebbles, - visible wings of silence sown
In azure circles, widening as they dip

The matrix of the heart, lift down the eyes
That shrines the quiet lake and swells a tower…
The commodious, tall decorum of that sky
Unseals her earth, and lifts love in its shower.

Peter turns

Your thorns were rubbed down overtime and time made them smooth and kind.
Today your rafts will pull in and fill pockets with salt and glossy shells.

Today the sun will hide so you may shine and dance in the dirt.
The splinters and frigid air will snooze. Grass will sing like passing ladies.

Today you can pull in the historic air and put down the heavy rocks.
Today sugar water drizzles into your mouth and smiles rise like evaporated water.

By - Alexandria Victoria Long