mortality is so boring

mewling off to hidey hole, mortality can be so boring, julius ferraro, poetry

mewling off to hidey hole, mortality can be so boring, julius ferraro, poetry

Long shit mornings
precede long shit days and
lingering yellow stains.
We’d slouched in waiting rooms for
later on’s big
reveal, which somehow passed
through every hand in the
big marble studio without any
soul noting how nonsensical
and frustrating the twist is
ratings down, participation tanked
detractors salivating, network all
fox-eared and thinning fur
mewling off to
hidey-hole

 

hollow ground!

keep away! hollow ground!, julius ferraro, poetry

keep away! hollow ground!, julius ferraro, poetry

keep away! hollow ground!, julius ferraro, poetry

And with my prospects
all turned murky I
gave my oaths to the
left bank of Paris’
shadow-city, Centralia,
PA, where devils’
pitchforks dance like
sixteen-year-olds
at junior prom and
graveyards howl at
tourists–
______keep
_________away!
______hollow
_________ground!

the first belief by
lime-skinned mariners,
fingers cured with
ocean salt, their
sticky manes devouring
light and giving
pause to mermaids’
delightful ruses—

 

 

in which case dumb breathe

julius ferraro, poetry, associative

 

in which case dumb breathe
hanneyway? gramma is dying in
the hospital. i have to nakeys, no
hankeys, blankeys, nor frankes.
beetles crawling under doors for
ever they scout, together they
pout. the soil has such mildewey
freshness but the dirt has all the
good truth. crossbreeze. foot goes
across the floor. we make our own
patterns and make ourselves sick
with worry. in more goddamn sure,
as a maybe yeah, i hate.

 

 

what’s empty trembles behind

 

poetry, julius ferraro, juliuswrites, what's empty trembles behind

 

Multimedia artist John Bezark and I started a collaboration to bridge the gap between his home in Philly and my new home in Providence. I send him poetry, he sends me a video back, and then I send poetry back . . . etc. This is the third item, a response to his video of earlier this week. The whole collab is playing out between us on insta, but I’ll try to share here as much as possible.

 

The text:

 

smoky Mars
what’s empty trembles behind

distant stars     earth fish
seek that which under grids

gains weight to gain bliss
life shames what came

before and after     what smell
dust rises before a shower

turns to talc     milky laughter

 

 

rocketships on my mind’s eye

 

A collaboration with John Bezark.