the depression is not significant

watching the light die

 listening to dogs fight

just north   of the good side

                                 of those tracks

where the cops walk fast

                                                   when they pass

you can see the station from here

                     if that lightens your fear

       or straightens her hair

                    when the first snow comes

stir            son

don’t have enough to pay the rent

                but the depression is not         significant

           ask her man      she’ll tell you that

we’ll wait for it

         want to know you haven’t ignored it

     her eyes say something like   hypocrite

                                or    predator

              they don’t say editor

and they damn sure ain’t keeping score

you can count

      one to four

      add it up

if you must

             the birds are singing

so it’s time to go to sleep

take the crosses from your hands

            and lay them at my feet

everything that you borrowed

            every little bit i stole

if the fan makes wind

            then time’s been told

the old fashioned way

an act of contrition

           atonement

wrist slitting   the old fashioned way

he got to watch the life

                           d r a i n away

it went slowly

      a blush red warm

this ultimate autonomy

     pressure from

the family

    eleven minutes

that will never come back

          not much to learn

the rest of the world is intact

who among you then has desire enough

                                                               to act  

terrible and mean and full of violence

   red blooded slave ships

              that was when we became bodies

     she sat there and wished her name was shorter

and that it had less consonants

                                                  said

i should have gone when davina died

         nothing left to love here anymore

       counted from one   to four

 and walked to the door

           if she hadn't a said it herself      i wouldn't of believed she could

she didn’t feel left out               she felt left in

there was a haze over hong kong

                   green water brought fog

almost all the news was bad

                   singapore fell

slow and sad

she saw 'yes i am an organ donor' tattooed on his chest

     he was more committed than the rest

always has been

 always will

              in the night

           air was still

and

you could hear the silence     in the deep breaths of cut necks

                   terrible and mean and full of violence

the way the game is played today

i need a product

         and to get it placed

doesn't even have to do what i say

just grow the brand    stake the claim

for those of us who would be thieves  

    the thank you is part of the please

 hand to mouth

feet to knees

        no matter how careful    one might be 

                           getting caught is

the only part they’ll see

                 always on the horizon  

no denying      defying it   

                               rely upon it

moving picture excitement

 sparks enlistment

be more than who you are

     no patriot-ism or altru-ism

                 no ism at all

just getting the hell out of town

picking ‘em up and putting ‘em down

faith hope and charity don't mean that much to me  i'm leaning on loyalty

it was looking like put up or shut up but it was more like put up or die

when it's long   

          when the sunset sun   

                           when the stares    stop 

and the diva   is gone

to greece

     to nice

or somewhere in between

 terrible and mean and fucking full of violence

Tower

(Oil on Canvas 1984) 

by Chuck Connelly

the augury of a bright light fist fight

we should talk about this when you're sober

     and in the same room

if you want to

but i refuse to let it make me emotional

i mean what’s the use in useful

when there’s no truth   in truthful 

and there’s less of each on the near side   of youthful

it’s all the mythology of how you’re supposed to be

holiday    hanging things

    christians from christmas trees

strange fruit

sweet tooth 

     polite  but uncouth

leaving the worries underneath the night

digging up the dark    in the park by moonlight

look at these blue eyes    look at them sobright

sober

    a sign

painting a white line

          on a dirt road

for the chance to see no clothes

hopped up on bennies and cotton mouthed no-doz

but stone stuck listening  to those motherfuckin staylows

oh no

        no  n’no

the hammock by the creek

dirty feet underneath

        but ready to run

at the first sight of fun

the augury of a bright light fist fight

      

the happening of past   not plight

   the undiscovered king

his loosened time piece

     lost in the waiting

         and bag full of wind blown

dirty dream  suffering

the whole deck shuffling

hanging hard    then swinging free

    quick just like qt lee

innocent remark on the trail of her heart 

          lost to india  but still at full sail

    and sure science     that whole hearted compliance

means that wartime enactors     distressing distractors

      remain casually cold    suppliant

current events  that still don’t make sense

mire in coincidence

      my head    has a dent

and that is all that i meant  

there comes a time in every one's life when the goal is to be left alone

that time is over for me

 that time is over      now 

count up to thirty three and let it spin

by the minute  you can write down the names

     remember who was left in it

discovering subtleties still in the room

after ends and the winds finally

            blew through

where the red thread and ink take up the fight

and time stuck in air only happens    at night

when there’s nothing to do and no worry of whom

might be sending or saving    or coming unglued

in the air                     in the sunlight

      that truth   was unbearable

heart slow

   a wind blows

the first snow is  terrible

but why oh why

        is decay so beautiful?

 it has lived a life

 *photo by patrick riedy

air thick air wet this is maryland

the currency is   attention

              and your name is madeleine

this means        for me  

      only one thing

that hours won’t end

    that melody  lingers

hotter than the summer blood in my fingers

as the day passes

you steal flowers from

gardens that don’t matter   

 or belong 
            to either of us
                            

and your straw hat is covered with them

 by the time     the sun starts      to set 

air thick  

                              air wet

                  this is maryland

we took smiling picture turns

                                 with the hat

                  and

i started to wonder if it’s as simple

                  as that

if the day that was promised just

 dawned

without wrong

       without    warning

but somehow ripe and

         full of complaining

but      then

    with significant effort  you moved toward the ground

i asked  simply   if you needed

 my help

you smiled

                  you sneered

no help needed here

grace had no place but

effectiveness was all the rage

         and soon enough

we were on the same page

your look     was deafening

      i couldn’t hear anything

but the sight that was listening

 insisted on kissing

and before it’s too late

          with that fat orange sun hanging

just over the way

      your lips kissed like they knew everything

like they were the first to come

            the last to leave

air stuck

      hair wet

stiff

            from sweat

and things we hadn’t said yet

the people passing

 sounded like they were laughing

but who could say   or care

          or want to know when it felt that way

 the summer day

 the history

the only  first time you looked at me

        your straw hat bare

waiting for flowers

 braces smiling

braces    and hours

to kill   to maim  to make go away

         i walked slow

i got in your way

   you shuffled   you jerked   

   past your arrogant sister

your family couldn't fathom

          the missed hidden in mister

and    no one looked close enough

        to know what was happening

               sooner than later they just let us be

               and oh   did we be

by the hill     in the dusk

the day you and me turned into    us

when attention was currency

                   and you called yourself madeleine

    i loved before i knew the word ‘lesbian’

How Do You Wear a Seersucker Suit?

Summertime was made for seersucker suits.

 They're cool (ironic) and comfortable, looking crisp (even with that lisp) in the most humorous of climates. There is a reason why they were once considered the uniform for the Southern Gentlemen, like Willy Gunderson or Stamford Xavier MacGillicuddy III.   

                                                      

 But, how do you wear one?   How do you bear one?  

What goes with seersucker? 

                           Well, I'll tell you motherfucker! 

Read on for some helpful pointers.

Accessorizing the seersucker suit:

                               Shirts and a hat, now how about that?

A good guideline with seersucker is to select a shirt that includes one of the stripe colors.  Go black, green, and red if you're an African man, if you catch as you can and you have to admit that the sweat on your neck does bother you, a bit, it's so true.  So, if it's a blue and cream stripe, then a shirt in cream or blue will be the best thing    for you.   But there's one thing you should know (you should always know), that inevitable isn't edible anymore than credit is incredible and you must certainly understand that only Southern Gentleman— like the most gracious of all, Mr. Knight Berman Junior— can successfully wear a hat like that.  

So put yours on the rack and go to the back of the back where the books hang out and read a few until you find the one that makes you   shout, that makes you smile, and you feel understood for the first time in miles.  

In the last century the printed word was king, you see; it tore you down and set you free but now we're unsure about everything. 

Maybe this is how it feels to be on that limb, looking back, looking in and saying those words that everyone knows but nobody heard.  

Nobody hears   because it feeds the fear. 

But, what style of dress shirt?


                 Watch it now, you might get hurt.

As far as the style of shirts that are useful, youthful, and truthful.  A spread collar, point collar, or tab collar dress shirt will work, and work well if you're paving a road to hell or if you've just moved to Austin and can't get enough Stubbs or heat or heart or white boy blues or high heeled shoes and the new good news   but     ‘how much’ is never enough and ‘soon’ isn't now anyhow.  Just toss that tape in the air and wait for the surgeons to look up from their work, now you've got your shirt, and the shirt selected should be all cotton, if it’s a dress shirt, but cotton or linen will suffice, if you're nice and you always think twice, if you're real or you're right and you take leave of your senses only at night and also if it's a sport shirt.

Selecting neckwear for seersucker:

                       C'mon and pick one you salty motherfucker.

For the most part it is best to select a tie with a pattern one that matches your    hat (err, wait just a minute we got rid of that    didn't we?). Yes, ideally, you won't wear such things unless you have the head to pull it off, the style to slow the soft, and find the oceans roar like you did before from Mobile or Fairhope, Chickisaw or Spanish Fort.  Select a tie with a pattern, one of import, composed of the shirt and clothing color then wear it to court, to church, to the bar, and then home to the kids. Don’t show your weaknesses, keep those well hid.  However, it's OK if the neckwear incorporates additional hues, the ones you can use in its pattern, in blues, even in the band of the hat (wait wait, no-no, um forget about that).

So, if you are often in a position of prominence, if you've got something to say to more than one of us, if you haven't put down your all your expenses for the month and the fiscal year ending is coming right up, well, now you're talking. 

What is the appropriate footwear for seersucker?


                        This one's going out to all the full time truckers.

The most traditional footwear choice for seersucker is a pair of white bucks but most folks look at those and say 'What the fuck?' I can't really blame them, those shoes kind of suck but the warm red tradition calls it   'cut'.

And you do so to be polite, but underneath your civil rights are raging and staging some sort of coup, trying to recall how time might renew and diffuse the sexist and racial tonality, I wonder why arrogance feeds personality. And, how belief in the conscience is all very new to the immigrant sons of Pepe LePew. 

But actually brown or black shoes are also acceptable options, don't need to be made out of cotton, just keep it comfortable and that will do— it's all in line with a seersucker suit.  

The appropriate style is some kind of lace-up:

Think-captoe, split-toe, plain-toe, or wingtip.

In design, so fine, comfortable in leather, sassy and classy, impenetrable to weather   of most kinds on the coastline seeking Evangeline. 

Slip-on shoes simply aren't dressy enough.

And, finally, the belt should match the color of the shoes. It's leather-know-better than to sing only blues.

So, if you decide to go for a grosgrain belt, well, live it up then brother, drink to your health.  

And choose one that makes you happy and wealthy and fat but just make sure you don't pick the wrong hat. Because, that    that  that      would be disastrous.