1994 Volkswagen Jetta en Route to Jackson, MI via. Eastbound I-94, 4/17/10 19:44 EST

I smoke in your car as the gears shift,
startling the cigarettes from their ashtray.
The sound is loud in the old interior,
The smell is old in the loud interior.
Yo La Tengo is playing, the treble is too high
and I can only hear the right speaker.
“I wish,” you pause the music,
“I wish I could find a man who loves this song.”
You hum “Gentle Hour”.
I am quiet, watching the cars move past us.

I should slap you for saying that,
falling for men who play your songs
and sing them to you in drum circles
around campfires and smoking mad dank.
They look like the lead singers of your favorite bands,
crude and dirty emulations of what you want.
I glance out the window, thinking
about how in the hell you can rationalize
anything that you just said. Ira continues,
crooning about things I clearly don’t understand.

I think to myself, I love this song, I am a man,
but I am not a man to you, apparently.
The trees create a background for the side mirror
that is broken, angled sharply inward at you.
You’ve dyed your hair, painted your eyes.
You drink and smoke and pop pills.
You are driving from my house
which you came to uninvited
and dragged me out of bed to buy
Tums at a Meijer over twenty miles away.

I should slap you so hard right now
for every reason listed above.
Yet, you are driving this piece of shit
and the treble is wailing like a child now.
The trees wave to us, but you don’t see them.
You are focused on the road, the song,
and on me, who will be entertaining you tonight.
We are best friends, and yet I cannot be this man,
the one who can sing you songs about intimacy,
something you never had with me.

o, dear.

playlist of the week:

• only pieces - here we go magic
• starter - boys noize
• where is away? - luke temple
• odessa - caribou
• olympians - fuck buttons
• do the astral plane - flying lotus
• used to be - beach house
• f.x.n.c. - the samps
• sylvia - the antlers
• have one on me - joanna newsom
• canada - treasure

exhibit 21. we will all be here one day.

there was this fox they caught outside of work the other day

there were all these cops and people watching

they had it on a string

children watched it writhe in the restraint,

giggling.

i saw a robin pulling a worm when i left that day.

i felt nothing.

that squirrel is digging a hole.

exhibit 20. i woke up to this today. it is probably the sexiest song ever written.

aside from that, lp8?

younaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboyyounaiveboy

FUN FACT

a tick can be removed within 36 hours of it's biting. doing that will lower the risks of getting lyme disease to nearly zero.

sound off with open up our eyes by the silent years.

skeleton; me.

skeleton me.

skeleton, me.

skeleton: me.

skeleton me.

like hands coming up from the earth

and cradling, never forgiving, never understanding

just cold and reminding.

nathan would publish poems, but no one cares so he won't waste his time.

exhibit 19. case in point

(c) nathan masserang prints (2010)

playlist of the week:

• the entirety of sleigh bells' "treats"
• summertime clothes [dam funk remix] - animal collective
• heaven's on fire - the radio dept.
• the gaudy side of town - gayngs
• sylvia - the antlers
• lust for life - girls
• flux riddim - mj cole
• i wanna dance with somebody - whitney houston
• life in marvelous times - mos def
• stay close - delorean

my first book will be titled

we have an army of babies, i don't think we are going to win this one & other poems

home for the summer. poop.

nathan hates kyle so much.

that is all.

nathan forgets that thing.

exhibit 17. "Albion rose from where he labourd at the Mill with slaves / Giving himself to the nations he danced the dance of Eternal Death" - Blake





is this what we've come to? squabbling over the most erroneous shit?




i have so many babies
so, so, many, many, babies
as if bradstreet had anything on me
i'm popping them out
they're all about
a mess, a jumble
a sheepdog
a necessity



exhibit 18. MY HANDS ARE COVERED IN INK




new missions: make something cool every day
everydayevery
eeeverrrydayy
daaaaaaayyyyeveryyyyy


swimming in babies, as always.

din dah

exhibit 16. merry chrishmish