April 2013
1 post
Exploration S. (#3)
I.
a slip of the tongue into his mouth, picturing how the two of you kiss with such a filthy mouth as his; teeth grating over skin–
evoking the shaft of your penis with a flick of a lip; knobby-kneed and slack-jawed along toothless grin cherubim
adrenal fatigue for the fist.
II.
part of it was your dumb lips. you kissed like a chump, a straight boy with two eyes separated by a...
March 2013
1 post
Exploration S. (#2)
I used to think someone would love me. Operation somewhere else beyond my body. I thought more about the landscape. Where his manscape turns mediocre yellow into clear white. Time spent in Los Angeles burns me underneath my skin. Sunset Boulevard looks me dead in the eye with dead eyes. Are you just like me?
Where semen-stains remain. A pundit for manic panic. I used to think someone would love...
December 2012
3 posts
Exploration S. (#1)
Operation SEX. I’ve never been to Fire Island but I am borne of a failure to seize the sex. I’ve never been to Fire Island but the men are too good looking for me anyway. I’m a troll on the streets of West Hollywood, where the men troll for sex. A puritanical fucking in the backseat of his Audi. Where missing sleep causes me to miss you.
Operation sex, three little letters with...
Exploration R. (#2)
Fact-checkers never bother to ask questions, they just assume. What’s the point of trying if you always feel you’re losing? A nation born of wound. Wound deepens sleeping next to you.
We hurt when we allow ourselves to hurt. Thickening of the skin to say goodbye. A maladjusted sycophant. Lipstick stained penny flavored colonoscopy.
I tried to reach you but couldn’t. If it...
Exploration R. (#1)
I was labeled an idiot of my own discourse. A chord breaking my heart. A pint of Guinness running through, ruining my veins. My veins across your back connecting us one by one. I believed you when you said it could last forever.
I was chasing the ghost of my past. I was clueless to what faced me in the mirror. Brickbreaker shit-blaster heartbeat. Caffeinated wanderlust. I was labeled an idiot of...
September 2012
1 post
Exploration Q. (Last Attempt)
Inferior. Why it still hurts, I’ll never know. The happiness once sought. Sophomoric poetry. The Pope of Black Hats. A shifted, jilted, stunted boy at 26.
All by myself, I’m so much better on my own. The magnetism between us now that we’ve switched poles. A disagreement between two waterfronts. My body aches 395 times a minute.
When you look in the mirror. When we look in the...
August 2012
1 post
Exploration Q. (Attempt #2)
Flattened out sketches of figures I once was. A plaid withered truth. I caught the wind in my face, age 15. Authority figures as fugues for tin horns. Patience with disregard to virtue. I sketch my body with ink and oil. A lifeless cog caught in a machine.
When we turn to stone, our skin cuts and burns with tendency to skid. He doesn’t love you and he never will. Every boy I’ve ever...
July 2012
1 post
Exploration Q. (Attempt #1)
You forgot who you were. Winter 1986, born into a world where you would always be the odd man out. Do you remember holding hands with torpedoes? A fraction of living at a fraction of the cost. You will always be a part-timer.
Somewhere between Amen and Hallelujah there was a novel aching inside of you to get out. Trapped between the cum of two men who always pitted you against yourself. No one...
June 2012
2 posts
Exploration P. (Attempt #2)
Looking out past the runway, I dream of big city lights. With you, I always dreamt of desert nights. Stars filling the deepest black, endless. Hands together in a circle. Prayer upon the ashes of our forefathers. A lack of foreskin between us.
Naked, eyes blue (green? blue), wrists cuffed to a bed of electronic devices. You woke me up with a panic and I slipped a twofer in your pocket. Clad in...
Exploration P. (Attempt #1)
Your life needs to stop bothering me so much. I feel trapped by your niceties and bludgeoned by your actions. A six-year wound that refuses to close shut. Suggest I should shut you out.
Where would we be if she and everyone else had been okay with all of it? Would it have stood the test of time? They did it to us. You did it to yourself. I did my best to untrap myself but got hooked in your...
May 2012
1 post
Exploration O.
Concentric circles form in the palms of your hands. Targets for the nails to be hammered in. Martyrdom akin to palindromes. Madam I’m Adam. Sleeping late to become part of the progress. I am shellfish, I am slaveskin. I am burnt sienna in a college-boy’s noose.
Where your hips lie, my words failed you. I spoke too soon with gunshy lips. A splendid expanse of flesh. A shit-eating grin...
April 2012
1 post
Exploration N.
Where words lose meaning, there is always patience in the depths of wound. Where losing the daylight means the promise of tomorrow. Where I turn to stone. Hearts tuned to the radio wave, where banner waves turn us into photographic edge.
Where I fit into no particular mold. Not enough of any particular thing to create my identity. Nothingness. The pains of being plain. Torn my teeth on new knees....
March 2012
1 post
Exploration M.
Flowers for anniversaries. A sketchbook of failed relationships on display in the MOMA. I want a change of seasons. Person to person shirking. Why wasn’t it me? Why does it matter? A shift in the personal pronouns. Him versus I. Versus me. Versus everything I guessed about my life.
Don’t wait. Why do we wait for arrivals and departures to display our anxieties? Pictures that make me...
January 2012
3 posts
Exploration L.
Limelight. The burden of being home alone on Saturday night. My right is gone. Youthful flutter bridges the gap between the loneliness and the lamplight. Etches. I sketched my prose on side table mirror, waited for my telephone to stop ringing.
Waiting for the moment to hit you when you’ve realized you’ve wasted it all. 26 is the age when you finally notice all of your friends have...
Exploration K.
Creation of ages. Separated by birth. Placentia meals at the canyon. Echos pale with the deep sound of word vomit. The poetry of a sophomoric neu adult. Coffee cum artiste.
And now, a reading from the Letter of Jeremy Q. to the Corinthians:
Saga for the ages. Sagaga. Gagging on sag. A sag slag. A slag sagging saga. Gaga gags on slags and gas. Gastro-intestinal. Intense industry pretense. Sense...
Exploration J.
Self-induced pap smear in bathroom mirror. I am no more fetus than I am skeleton and silver spoon. Humble beginnings. Love affairs with boys with J names. There are too many to list, none even worth naming.
I am the wire hanger. I am the pro-choice slag bitch cunt whore bleeding over you. Prick my finger so we become blood brothers. No others will do. Curse my name carved in your chest beating. A...
December 2011
2 posts
Exploration I.
Eyes in the back of my head. I see more than you think. I know more than you want me to believe. Eyes that know your betrayal. The betrayal of your cock wedged deep in his ass.
That I would give in. That I ever gave in. That I couldn’t see the truth. Eyes withstanding negative shapes. I hope he was good. I hope he was worth dying for. Eyes that see my explicit. “Show, don’t...
Exploration H.
Someone ought to miss you, but they won’t. My back is aching from standing out here in the cold with you, so make a move already. Kisses with sweet-smelling breath. Gelatin.
The salt pouring over bleeding skin, ashes turned to waste. Wastepaper on the black keyed piano, where every chorus sounds like a demented Hallelujah. Export to export.
The finalization of being. A snow-tipped anguish...
November 2011
7 posts
Exploration G.
It took a village to raise me. Now it’s time they thrust me into the world. Adulthood versus adultery. Do I make the choice to let you go?
Nine months inside of my mother who bore me with no painkillers. I ease the pain of my birth by coming out to her. Now it’s her heart that aches. How do you solve a problem like Jeremy Quintero?
For the first time in twenty-five, my 9 to 5...
Exploration F.
The end. Christmas lights blinking like your local disco begging you to dance in the New Year. The time of year where my pockets are empty and nostalgia reigns within me. A refusal to change, though everything has changed.
You could have it all. Where did the You go? I spread my legs but You go missing. I want to say “I love you” and have You mean it when You say it back. But I...
Exploration E.
Independently cruel, and expendable. A man’s best friend is his beaded clutch purse, with tampons and dildos. Manic street preacher at the end of the world.
Christians with xylophones playing The Hallelujah Chorus on megaphone. Petitions to start riots with non-Christians over turf space. My art is better than your art. My Jesus is better than your Jesus.
Attack on the right-wing for the...
Exploration D.
I want to remember Before.
Before my stomach turned on itself. Before I drank. Before cardboard cutouts of persons I used to sleep with. Before the pillows turned warm. I want Before, you and I sitting in a car, talking, excited about the prospect of each other. Before the sentimental.
Before, with big-boned teeth. Before the massacre of emotions. Before heavy. The Before with seasick dizziness...
Exploration C.
A process scorned by the likelihood of fame, grand gesture sweeping. The perverted image of the idol and the icon. Magician cream pie.
Factored into the space of two cold sores, illusions hidden in the cocaine envelopes. Monetary judgements. I drank myself straight.
Exploration B.
Clauses and lower-cases.
What good has this done you? You’re all metamorphosis, underrated action. Which one did I become? Ultra-modernism claiming the better parts of me. I am starting to dislike the future. The future is my job and it scares me.
Eternal flame, a fuck-up cut-up. Do you remember dreaming in green? A life more rich and fabulous than what’s been given in my arms and...
Exploration A.
Think about the things that made you burn out. Write out the columns, like a spine. Half-shaped and middle-aged.
Think about the things that made your heart break faster. Banish them to the right speaker. What is your in-flight feature?
Think about the things that made you want to crawl into yourself. Bitten tongue in shame/As cities sleep below. Red shroud.
Think about the things that kept...
