The Poetry of Alex Kasavin

Alex is a new poet for us. The folowing works are from a chap book that he produced in limited editions. He has this to say about himself. "I was born in Moscow and raised in San Francisco, where I reside to this day. I spent my formative years working as a nightclub and fashion show promoter/producer and have since gone on to start an independent publishing company which will release its first title in the fall. My writing celebrates the dreams of the anonymous people who enter my life."


Dervishes

We cast away our sweat soaked sheets

And wander naked in the streets

Where the flesh of our muses

Is sold by the pound

And the barkers midnight call

Rings with reason in our ears

All to eager to see our names in lights

We lick hot leather from their boots

With swollen tounges we cower in the night

Exposed beside our withered roots.


Dead Cities- A Prophecy

In Dead Cites we will be aquainted...in

San Francisco, Los Angeles, New York,

London, Paris, Amsterdam, Cairo, Bagdad,

Tel Aviv...We will sleep like mantises

beneath abandond pyramids...We

will dance in the blasted fields where sunflowers

refuse to grow...We will extract fluids

from one another...we will amalgamate

our memories in glowing coals...We will

entertain terrorism...We will spend days

in seculsion...We will assune new names

...We will embrace the architedcture of

attrtion...We will seek satori in azure

implosions...We will adopt the language of

subways...We will investigate fissures...

We will fuck like addders...We will argue in

cheap motels...We will interpret the

Death notices...We will anticipate catacslysms...

We will a reduce Shakespeare to equations...

We will brush fish scales from our feet...We will

laugh with the conviction of surgeons....We will

misplace furniture inside gaping wounds...

We will question the authenticity of woodcuts...

We will elude complacency inside our

mutant trenches.

In Dead Cites we are implored to think

Different by limitless billboards, imposing like

shadows in an empty room.

 


YOU AND OTHER SUMMER GHOSTS

I

In the opaque confines of Langley porter, I

offered you to the wretches over stale crumb-

cakes and curdled milk. You and other

Summer ghosts. Remember sparky's with

Brazilian Eddy? China Beach the following morning?

Our fevered symphoney of razors?

The breakers crashing bellow? Runny noses?

Ruddy knuckles? Soiled fingernails? Your

breasts were prominent, i assured them, your

arms unsavaged, your azure eyes incestant in

their sockets. In Haldol oblivion I tore

them from a newspaper and placed them

over my own. I stared long and hard at the

wretches with your charecteristic disengagement,

and demanded that they turn over

your lips and nose...The new appendages

were disproportionate. I was reluctant to part

with them...One by one, te wretches

usurped your features like Harliquins. In

the end, I assigned them to a limber boy

of convused mind, hardly 18 years of age.

II

In the vapid serenity of the cafeteria, I

offered you the wretches over grit and

gristle...Remember 16th and Harrison?

The DNA lounge? I was running out

of memories, yet I recounted the night you

entered my life with alacrity. Do you recall

our initial conversation? As jejune as it was?

"Where did you get that backpack?"

"New York."

The Wretches found this significant. More so

than our final encounter, which we no longer

discuss. Perhaps the heavy doses of medication

limited their capacity for imagaination,

preventing them from accepting your for the

effigy you've become. They refuse to concieve

your shriveled breasts, your fetid

breath, your skin, slowly unraveling,

crawling with eczema. They have grown

accustomed to falling in love with you,

over and over with each conversation.

III

In the flourescent hallways, I offered the last

of you to the wretches...No thing else

would appease them...I beg you to forgive me

for the late night telephone calls, for the

unwanted letters, for the unexpected visitors.

The are dying to see you. And I too am

dying to see you, O beloved corpse.


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