Third in a set of poems based on the titles of the most-overdone songs at karaoke. Also: Don't Stop Believing and I Want It That Way.
Total Eclipse of the Heart
Virgin moon
Every now and then
Diana breaks out the arrows.
A hunter, she was born in Italy.
Turning tides
Every night the bar is full
and empty at the same time, you know
it kind of waxes and wanes.
Turning on:
the Turned Ons and the Turners
all circle each other, but
sometimes you just run out of time.
Mars and Venus
are just fucking fuckpads
and everyone is mad
at the universe because they're alone.
Virgin moon, bright night
The hunter sees a boy that she likes.
Virgin moon, bright night
Every now and then I fall apart.
Turn away
Every now and then
I watch them work on the street
and then I go and shop for a shirt.
Turn to me
Girls are aware of who's
approaching, boys attune to
who is running away.
Lock and key.
Home and garden.
Shop for clothes.
Medium small small medium small.
Virgin moon
goddess Diana's bow is seen
in the crescent phase,
in your belly, in your eyes.
Small sky, big eyes
Moons of your shoulders, sun of your heart.
"Turn around! Smile!"
It's funny how beauty makes everything fall apart.
And I need you now tonight.
We could be alone together.
We could be on our phones together.
I'm overcome, just come over.
The moon relates to melancholy.
The moon is in a song.
Okay, Cupid. Okay, Diana.
The choices are the shadows, don't be bad, don't be wrong.
The bar is breaking up. Hunters and the herd.
Hugs with cigarettes and a few fumbled words.
I really, really need you tonight.
Whatever's going to start tonight.
Totally. Starting. Tonight.
Early in the day
I was choosing a shirt
Now I lie with you in the dark.
Tracing out the moon's
actual ellipse from your heart.
Sort of like a circle or
a limaçon with an arrow's sharp.
The imagined shape that you'd see
if you saw an eclipse of the heart.
Showing posts with label drunk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drunk. Show all posts
I Want It That Way.
Second in a series of poems based on the most-overdone karaoke songs.
I Want It That Way
I invented fire.
The one messiah.
Believe what I say.
I own a desert.
I make a diamond a day.
I invented sex, and also those
yummy walnut prawns at Chinese banquets.
I am pretty lit, by the way.
But tell me why
I can't decide
that you would just walk in
from outside.
I'm friends with a dinosaur
who shits concept cars.
I am absolute truth.
I invented mistakes. Also, cake.
I made you in my image,
messed up your hair though.
I'm that guy who stays up for four days
and sleeps for three. I'm Pinocchio,
I think in code, I'll love you from
the start of time to
the tallest point of Tokyo.
But tell me why
you can't just decide
to ache for some guy.
I can see electrons,
spit a billion sick syllables,
stop and start a heart,
but I can't make up your mind
and am left wanting, that way.
Don't Stop Believing.
As part of the ongoing karaoke otaku-ness, I'm writing some poems based on the most-overdone karaoke songs, holding loosely to the song's theme and line structure. This is the first one.
Don't Stop Believing
She stretched out on the street,
her fist a pillow,
she tried to feel comfortable.
He thought about failing to fail.
Not from southern anywhere but
also can't be from a bar.
The scene seen with raw eyes;
two young folk speaking smoke,
simple minded as spaghetti, don't forget me,
don't forget, I won't forget you.
She sat up straight and attentive,
a shadow passed over like a cloud
in the desert, like an idea.
The night turns navy towards me
and the pulse of Friday street lamps
taunt and turn into nothing.
We're always making a movie.
This one's weird title is:
"Heartbreak Goes Around in a Circle
Like Mononucleosis of the Discarded."
Turn around, flip the world,
hold for sound. But don't forget,
don't forget to smile and move,
because movement is love.
She said, "We are all getting smaller
with every one of us,
classroom to cluster to ashes to dust;
But don't stop believing,
don't ever not believe
it isn't true."
I looked up when she said that
and couldn't shake the feeling
that nothing was wrong.
Affirmative Action, Asian Dating, and Vomit. (OR, Why Being an Asian American Guy Still F**king Sucks.)
I was going to write this piece anyway, but now it is partially in response to this idiot.
The social highlight of my last week was when a pretty girl vomited on me in a karaoke room. Without going into the whole story, I was trying to get friendly with her without realizing exactly how many drinks she'd had, and then she got sad, and I'm like OK maybe you just need someone to hold you, and that was fine, and then her warm and wet weeping on my shoulder suddenly became warm and wet regurgitated shrimp all over my clothes. I am not exaggerating at all when I say it was the social highlight of the week. Also, it was the kind of thing that makes you look at all the couplings and relationships and sexual congress going on in the world and question, "how does that ever even happen?"
Being Asian-American and male is definitely the worst thing you can possibly be, ethnically, in the dating universe. People say, "It's all in your head." Asian-American males themselves say to "GET OVER IT," and do, by obnoxious overcompensation. But let's get back to my head. It is not all in my head. Would you tell a black man that police brutality is all in his head? Police brutality is, of course, much more terrible than not having a date. But the phenomena are equally true. The statement that a black guy is more likely to be in trouble from the police because of institutional racism is AS TRUE as the statement that an Asian-American guy is more likely to have no warm body to wake up to in the morning because of institutional racism.
Also, it's data in the frakking census. As a percentage of their populations, the least-married kinds of people in America are Asian-American guys and African-American women. I think it's safe to say that there is a whole network of institutional racisms contributing to the plight of that second group. With Asian-American guys, it's only one umbrella-able problem, which is not Asian-specific, but in any case it's that Women Like Trouble.
Asian-American gals have plenty of good psychological reasons for preferring not to get with Asian-American guys, having to do with patriarchy in Asian nations ("I thought I just got away from that..."), sense of self, their brothers, their fathers, and also that America is still run by white people (give or take our embattled president). By the way, none of these good reasons are articulated well or truthfully by this girl (who, again, is either a moron or some sort of troll for the website, or both). ALL gals like an Asian guy if he's Totally Fuckin HOT, of course, but on average will hook up with the indifferent loud white dude over a normal Asian guy who is totally devoted to them. Or the sensitive hipster who is not patriarchal and had the most amazing experience in Thailand, you should go on a retreat there (because that's what self-aware people do, go on retreats to find themselves in other countries...WTF).
There was a point here...OH, it's that I have no luck with chicks. NO, it's actually that women, like most humans, have a streak in them that craves danger, and will do things for "fun" that are totally against their long-term self-interest. Asian-American dudes, generally speaking, do not convey the sense of Trouble that women like. As the PUAs will tell you, there are good strong biological reasons for this trouble-seeking (the system works better, if ruthlessly, in the lion community), which invariably causes women to get with guys who are angry, abusive, and wrapped up in destructive self-obsessions of their own. Hence the endless cycle of "OMG I just want to find a nice man OMG who is this loser I've shacked up with."
If you haven't observed this in the real world, it is because you live on Vulcan.
The thing is, most guys feel entitled to sex. Women often confuse this sense of entitlement with confidence and are attracted to it, although entitlement has nothing to do with confidence (but it has everything to do with behaving like a douchebag). People of color are generally attuned to the reality that one is not entitled to things, and SOME (Some not all!**) Asian American dudes, being where they izzat on the spectrum, realize that one is not entitled to love; it happens if you are terribly lucky, but there is no natural law that says you can't die alone.
(Level of American-ness is important here: Asian Asian dudes from Asia have as big a sense of entitlement as any guy anywhere; they are all Alpha over there.)
Asian American guys overcompensate for their perceived disadvantage by acting Bro-ish: angry, loud, swaggery, selfish, fighting for position. OK, some of them are like this naturally. The ones who are just putting on a performance of that, ladies, that is all your fault. If you responded to the other thing, we would act the other way.
....So anyway, that's basically what I said to the girl last Thursday night.
She responded with something like "Asian blahblahglah BROTHER blahblahgah."
And then she started crying on my shoulder.
And then she threw up on me.
Good times.
....This ended up having not much to do with this affirmative action case, except to say: people who oppose affirmative action like to point out that if it were not for affirmative action, the percentage of black students would drop dramatically (at the few schools that currently have affirmative action) to reflect the "true" makeup of qualified students. And to that I say: How could that possibly be a good thing? Don't we have affirmative action in the first place to slightly make up for THAT OTHER FLAWED SYSTEM WHICH HELPED SOME PEOPLE BUT HAD A FEW KINKS IN IT UH SLAVERY? But by all means, if the plan for a better America is to clamp down on those unfairly college-bound black people, do it, level that playing field. I will go to another county and find myself.
**Some not all! Some not all! Not racist not racist not racist!
The social highlight of my last week was when a pretty girl vomited on me in a karaoke room. Without going into the whole story, I was trying to get friendly with her without realizing exactly how many drinks she'd had, and then she got sad, and I'm like OK maybe you just need someone to hold you, and that was fine, and then her warm and wet weeping on my shoulder suddenly became warm and wet regurgitated shrimp all over my clothes. I am not exaggerating at all when I say it was the social highlight of the week. Also, it was the kind of thing that makes you look at all the couplings and relationships and sexual congress going on in the world and question, "how does that ever even happen?"
Being Asian-American and male is definitely the worst thing you can possibly be, ethnically, in the dating universe. People say, "It's all in your head." Asian-American males themselves say to "GET OVER IT," and do, by obnoxious overcompensation. But let's get back to my head. It is not all in my head. Would you tell a black man that police brutality is all in his head? Police brutality is, of course, much more terrible than not having a date. But the phenomena are equally true. The statement that a black guy is more likely to be in trouble from the police because of institutional racism is AS TRUE as the statement that an Asian-American guy is more likely to have no warm body to wake up to in the morning because of institutional racism.
Also, it's data in the frakking census. As a percentage of their populations, the least-married kinds of people in America are Asian-American guys and African-American women. I think it's safe to say that there is a whole network of institutional racisms contributing to the plight of that second group. With Asian-American guys, it's only one umbrella-able problem, which is not Asian-specific, but in any case it's that Women Like Trouble.
![]() |
| Me and my nongirlfriendfriend A., rocking the Girl's Got Priorities Goggles. |
Asian-American gals have plenty of good psychological reasons for preferring not to get with Asian-American guys, having to do with patriarchy in Asian nations ("I thought I just got away from that..."), sense of self, their brothers, their fathers, and also that America is still run by white people (give or take our embattled president). By the way, none of these good reasons are articulated well or truthfully by this girl (who, again, is either a moron or some sort of troll for the website, or both). ALL gals like an Asian guy if he's Totally Fuckin HOT, of course, but on average will hook up with the indifferent loud white dude over a normal Asian guy who is totally devoted to them. Or the sensitive hipster who is not patriarchal and had the most amazing experience in Thailand, you should go on a retreat there (because that's what self-aware people do, go on retreats to find themselves in other countries...WTF).
There was a point here...OH, it's that I have no luck with chicks. NO, it's actually that women, like most humans, have a streak in them that craves danger, and will do things for "fun" that are totally against their long-term self-interest. Asian-American dudes, generally speaking, do not convey the sense of Trouble that women like. As the PUAs will tell you, there are good strong biological reasons for this trouble-seeking (the system works better, if ruthlessly, in the lion community), which invariably causes women to get with guys who are angry, abusive, and wrapped up in destructive self-obsessions of their own. Hence the endless cycle of "OMG I just want to find a nice man OMG who is this loser I've shacked up with."
If you haven't observed this in the real world, it is because you live on Vulcan.
The thing is, most guys feel entitled to sex. Women often confuse this sense of entitlement with confidence and are attracted to it, although entitlement has nothing to do with confidence (but it has everything to do with behaving like a douchebag). People of color are generally attuned to the reality that one is not entitled to things, and SOME (Some not all!**) Asian American dudes, being where they izzat on the spectrum, realize that one is not entitled to love; it happens if you are terribly lucky, but there is no natural law that says you can't die alone.
(Level of American-ness is important here: Asian Asian dudes from Asia have as big a sense of entitlement as any guy anywhere; they are all Alpha over there.)
Asian American guys overcompensate for their perceived disadvantage by acting Bro-ish: angry, loud, swaggery, selfish, fighting for position. OK, some of them are like this naturally. The ones who are just putting on a performance of that, ladies, that is all your fault. If you responded to the other thing, we would act the other way.
....So anyway, that's basically what I said to the girl last Thursday night.
She responded with something like "Asian blahblahglah BROTHER blahblahgah."
And then she started crying on my shoulder.
And then she threw up on me.
Good times.
....This ended up having not much to do with this affirmative action case, except to say: people who oppose affirmative action like to point out that if it were not for affirmative action, the percentage of black students would drop dramatically (at the few schools that currently have affirmative action) to reflect the "true" makeup of qualified students. And to that I say: How could that possibly be a good thing? Don't we have affirmative action in the first place to slightly make up for THAT OTHER FLAWED SYSTEM WHICH HELPED SOME PEOPLE BUT HAD A FEW KINKS IN IT UH SLAVERY? But by all means, if the plan for a better America is to clamp down on those unfairly college-bound black people, do it, level that playing field. I will go to another county and find myself.
**Some not all! Some not all! Not racist not racist not racist!
Sideways (the best independent film of whatever year it was, by me)
EXT. LOVELY CALIFORNIAN WINO HANGOUT
Two dudes sit around getting sloshed, in a remarkable portrait of middle-aged sensitivity and angst. Nearby, a filmmaker eats from a cheese plate.
MILES: Glug, glug. Not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Balls! Buddy, you're like my penis. I don't know how to say it exactly, but you evoke my dick.
MILES: Why won't she call? I'm so money, baby. I'm going to pour grape juice all over myself.
Miles does this. Jack whips it out. A film critic laps grape juice off of Miles' toes.
FILM CRITIC: Amazing! Hilarious! How do you feel about accusations of elitist yuppieism leveled against your film?
JACK: If you want to see a movie about people with no fucking phone, go rent "Raising Fucking Victor Vargas."
MILES: I know grapes. Actually, I know about grapes which serve as a metaphor for me. I learned how to make metaphors for my suffering in Dramatic Writing 101. That's what separates this film from standard Hollywood fare like "Cold Mountain" or "Swingers."
JACK: Plus the fact that I'm not just an actor, but a washed-up actor.
FILM CRITIC: Genius!
Two female fantasy figures approach, also sloshed.
STEPHANIE: I need to be spanked!
FILM CRITIC: That's the best line of dialogue ever written!
MAYA: Miles. Miles Miles Miles Miles Miles. Miles Miles Miles, Miles Miles. Release me, Miles.
MILES: I Hate It When People Pay Attention To Me. STILL not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Hey look. Some interesting fat people.
STEPHANIE: But YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!
FILM CRITIC: That's the truest sentiment a filmmaker has ever captured in an original vision such as this one! I was sort of afraid to say anything about the abortion movie and the one that dealt with teenage sexuality, but this is a yarn that I can unabashedly hail as ....****....exhilarating....a delight! Much more penetrating than "Cats."
JACK: I once penetrated a cat.
MILES: I sure hope someone notices that I'm the best actor ever.
MAYA: Don't give up, Miles. Keep at it. Stay the course. Someday you'll have a track record, and then no one will care what you do next. Least of all me.
MILES: You're so non-judgemental, aligned with my interests, available and photogenic! Your physical beauty must be a sign that I can be redeemed. Going to run away now.
Miles runs away. Stephanie clobbers Jack with a bowling ball.
MAYA: Who wants a beer?
Two dudes sit around getting sloshed, in a remarkable portrait of middle-aged sensitivity and angst. Nearby, a filmmaker eats from a cheese plate.
MILES: Glug, glug. Not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Balls! Buddy, you're like my penis. I don't know how to say it exactly, but you evoke my dick.
MILES: Why won't she call? I'm so money, baby. I'm going to pour grape juice all over myself.
Miles does this. Jack whips it out. A film critic laps grape juice off of Miles' toes.
FILM CRITIC: Amazing! Hilarious! How do you feel about accusations of elitist yuppieism leveled against your film?
JACK: If you want to see a movie about people with no fucking phone, go rent "Raising Fucking Victor Vargas."
MILES: I know grapes. Actually, I know about grapes which serve as a metaphor for me. I learned how to make metaphors for my suffering in Dramatic Writing 101. That's what separates this film from standard Hollywood fare like "Cold Mountain" or "Swingers."
JACK: Plus the fact that I'm not just an actor, but a washed-up actor.
FILM CRITIC: Genius!
Two female fantasy figures approach, also sloshed.
STEPHANIE: I need to be spanked!
FILM CRITIC: That's the best line of dialogue ever written!
MAYA: Miles. Miles Miles Miles Miles Miles. Miles Miles Miles, Miles Miles. Release me, Miles.
MILES: I Hate It When People Pay Attention To Me. STILL not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Hey look. Some interesting fat people.
STEPHANIE: But YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!
FILM CRITIC: That's the truest sentiment a filmmaker has ever captured in an original vision such as this one! I was sort of afraid to say anything about the abortion movie and the one that dealt with teenage sexuality, but this is a yarn that I can unabashedly hail as ....****....exhilarating....a delight! Much more penetrating than "Cats."
JACK: I once penetrated a cat.
MILES: I sure hope someone notices that I'm the best actor ever.
MAYA: Don't give up, Miles. Keep at it. Stay the course. Someday you'll have a track record, and then no one will care what you do next. Least of all me.
MILES: You're so non-judgemental, aligned with my interests, available and photogenic! Your physical beauty must be a sign that I can be redeemed. Going to run away now.
Miles runs away. Stephanie clobbers Jack with a bowling ball.
MAYA: Who wants a beer?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




