i wonder when it was
that i started expressing my love
simply by having fun
with my loved ones
experience has become
my sole mode of communication
the artist
investing the whole of his time
to the art of life
i am living my masterpiece
for all the world to see Continue reading Artist’s Obituary
All posts by Steven Satyricon
Injury
today i injured myself again
the car door
produced an inch-long scratch
to adorn my ribcage
it is another of the daily trophies
i seem to accumulate
no matter how hard i try
every day brings
a scar Continue reading Injury
August First
We sat in the kitchen arguing at lunchtime–
My eyes bleary and dry, sleep still stuck in the corners,
The taste of stale blood in my mouth
(as though I’d bitten off more of her than I could chew).
She raged as she delicately sampled her strawberries.
In our lives we fight wars
with cookie dough and coffee pots,
and boys from whom we steal much more than kisses. Continue reading August First
Honeymoon’s Over
Woken up in a cold sweat
the pillowcase damp and cool
with drool
sticking to my cheek
it’s the first time i’ve slept in my own bed
for more than a week
i’ve been to one coast and back
asleep on airplanes and sofas and the chest of a lover
but now i’m back
in my own bed Continue reading Honeymoon’s Over
From A Madman’s Journal
(at work, April ’97.)
Speeding down this highway,
Rocketing to our inevitable unknown finish,
Wrestling the devil, searching for affection,
Rolling and racing to our private apocalypse.
i’ve seen it all here, from behind my counter and through the windows of the world.
i work at a coffee shop,
a place where the regulars are known by Indian names:
Names like Mean Coffee Guy, Nappy Cup Man, and White Chocolate Latte Woman. Continue reading From A Madman’s Journal
Song For Curtis
The rain is falling on my city.
Thick black sheets of cold shimmer down
from the reddish night sky to the shining pavement below.
I wonder who would be out this night.
I wonder who is at the bars.
I envision the parking lots,
full of nice cars with little
stickers on the back that mean,
“i’m one too–and i’m available.”
And inside, the bars will be packed.
Hot. Sweaty. Pulsating.
Lights and beats and rhythms.
Discreet sex acts in the bathrooms.
Phone numbers on napkins and promises
made into emptied beer glasses.
Continue reading Song For Curtis
Baptism By Fire
summer sweetness haunts me now,
in the autumn of my discontent.
my friend once told me, “summer groups never last,”
and i knew it to be true, but if only summer could last forever!
those nights of innocence and abandon,
swimming free and naked in the jeweled waters lit by a torch,
playing dubious games of spin-the-bottle ’round the unneeded campfire.
listening to a lesbian play “Joey” on the guitar one too many times,
frolicking later to the tune of Indigo Girls as she played ’til a hazy dawn. Continue reading Baptism By Fire
The Great Downtown Freakshow
step right up friends,
i said step right up!
and welcome to the great downtown freak show.
here you can find all the finest in oddities,
all the bitter dregs of humanity that the decadence of downtown
has swept into a convenient pile for your viewing pleasure.
we have all kinds here; that’s right, all kinds–
here we have vampires, men and women of dark secrets and darker intent,
ready at the drop of a hat to show you how vile and dangerous they are.
don’t step too close, now! though they actually faint at the sight of blood,
these creatures of the night rejoice in the frenzy of sadomasochism
via a cheap feel and a hickey on the neck of their victims. Continue reading The Great Downtown Freakshow
Ode To A Closet Drag Queen
(to JH)
When did it occur, dear brother?
When did you become this hollow man-woman?
When was it that you fucked away your last scrap of soul,
Dicked thoughtlessly to a nameless, unattractive body
Now piled onto your crypt-stack of whorish, diseased corpses?
When were you first infected?
When was it,
That you became so obsessed with being gay
That you stopped being human? Continue reading Ode To A Closet Drag Queen
Memories
Shingled rooftops,
Cloudy skies—
This is where
My memory lies.
Keeps of Chaos,
Shouts and yells—
These are where
My fondness dwells.
Snowy school days,
Games of chess—
Here are hours
I cherish best. Continue reading Memories