Gary Sullivan

 

 

 

 

 

Gary Sullivan lives in Brooklyn. His first book, _Dead Man_, was published

by Meow Press http://wings.buffalo.edu/epc/presses/meow/; his second, _The

Art of Poetry_, will be published by Detour Press

http://www.columbia.edu/cu/history/detour/detour later this year. Earlier

letter-poems to Nada appear at:

http://www.geocities.com/~theeastvillage/v5.htm. He can be reached at

gps12@columbia.edu or The_New_Life@hotmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

3/2/99

Dear Nada,

Harvey Pekar urges R. Crumb to cash in goads You like money

don'tcha? tho Crumb's oblivious

eyes fastened on sneering Amazon Jewess in black boots

I can never have her he trembles we like to imagine

anything fulfills us if it doesn't really save

the odd genius smitten by fractals complex systems

would Dante have written the Comedy if he'd loved Beatrice

the object of desire isn't muse unless elusive all's

courtship we talk ourselves into our out of

pride keeps us from throwing ourselves at the feet

of every beautiful stranger O

you're more lovely than Cher I thought

when I first saw you that you sneered at me may be

why I've written you so passionately

why I drink alone tonight instead of bar hopping w/Ange

Brenda or Laurie tho all the stars are like

little fish Courtney Love says people think she drove Kurt

to suicide because the sky was all violets she's

the one with no soul O kill me pills no one cares

mythology what the dead or elusive lover reduces us to

that or money I have nothing Chris loans me for cigarettes

I wanna be with you tear your dress off during ordinary conversation

I hope I don't have to go through this ever again

it's impossible to make clear in a poem in charcoal ochre

sinew atom blue as the screen these words pop up on

pieces of web glisten to inner spider overpilled evolve

in push of light blurred to gold ache as I ache someday you will

Chris pokes his head thru to tell me Jesse The Body Ventura

apologized for saying drunken Irish responsible for St. Paul's

confusing streets dumb fucking Viking if I were to lay out

the city now it'd be in the shape of you I guess

that would be confusing maybe we're all drunk maybe we're

all Irish I mail all my drunken blueprints

of uninhabitable cities to you & we both wake up alone

maybe we're just gutless

undressed look the same talk the same fuck like anybody else

everybody fucks it's not remarkable why mention it

it's not even discussible groupable into words I really want

what you taste and smell and think as you read this

all for nothing human mental hope

delicate viands the cure of this going & coming world's woe

mind tricked into believing or dead forever & ever & ever

am I what am I going on peacefully at your feet

caring not for ideas yellow palm leaves waving

no trees nothing to break it the surf dull & lifeless

but continuing I don't want to hurt you

guilty only of trying to think of the next sentence

it could be sweet as your forehead as accidental

or whole as certain light shimmers

against oceanic tides rare Egyptian emerald-agate tiara

a prayer in the form of a poem

copulating in the empty library of my brain other than I

whatever that is maybe inability

learned from other men merely in poverty's pall boulevards

their hard-earned monies non-crucial & w/out hope

formality merely a way of life

what if Crumb leapt at her I improvise any dream your own

a walk on broken bits as broken as tonight how can it

feel this wrong broken the fast of hands

I'd sell out in a minute but nobody's buying the milk

of the sun I'm scared I guess that's distance

or will become in mingled frame of mind shivered along lines

of sight each time my heart is broken

& tired of anyone's gun barrel cracker Big Town laughing

love, love, love to ignore me like a record player

like a French word like the bridge all dreary music

reaches for why in your white pants do you play such dreary music

I'm in love with you & nothing else has happened

did you really want this world if it really is what it is

& that's all it is & belongs to everybody

how wily silence abiding perfectly no question of being

alive tree trunks sunk in the grass there is

another world with people you are not arguing with in life

fallen upon myself my starving Irish ancestry

not private final one I forget every emotion I ever had

it could be sweet not meticulous or habit

"I wish I were a bird & not held down to anything in particular"

Love,

Gary

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gary Sullivan

 

 

 

 

 

Gary Sullivan lives in Brooklyn. His first book, _Dead Man_, was published

by Meow Press http://wings.buffalo.edu/epc/presses/meow/; his second, _The

Art of Poetry_, will be published by Detour Press

http://www.columbia.edu/cu/history/detour/detour later this year. Earlier

letter-poems to Nada appear at:

http://www.geocities.com/~theeastvillage/v5.htm. He can be reached at

gps12@columbia.edu or The_New_Life@hotmail.com

 

 

 

2/18/99

Dear Nada,

A: "I can't, don't you see? I still owe him money for the

airport."

B: "But you owe a *lot* of people ... a *lot* money ...

for--for a *lot* of airports ..."

--The Firesign Theater

A walk to Russ Pizza for a slice takes about five minutes

at the corner of Messerole & Manhattan three

teenage girls in dark down jackets huddle together one

wipes her nose "But I only went out with him

because he has a card ... so I could get my cigarettes"

The rest of this depressing conversation is lost to me

as an ambulance rounds the corner lights flashing siren, etc.

I focus my attention on a plane as it appears over the horizon

of buildings on my right its silhouette against

an almost completely indigo sky I like the way this airplane looks

like a secret agent almost & I almost forget the nasty things

everyone's ever said to me people sometimes imagine they're writing

everyone else's biography I don't understand this plane either

there's something graceful or elegant about its apparent stillness

Someone's left the Daily News on a table I order read the headline

MY LIFE IN HELL Supermodel Kate Moss Talks about Drugs & Alcohol

the man behind the counter sings along with the radio

"I believe I can fly I believe I can almost touch the sky" he's very

earnest I try to imagine a life in Hell with Kate Moss

what would we say to each other? what do we have in common?

drugs booze both notably underweight "Hi do you want a hit off this?"

The counter's sticky to the touch I fish $1.50 from my pocket

I guess I'll wind up in Hell someday too I won't be seated

next to Kate Moss probably Russ Pizza will be there there'll be

photographs of Kate on the walls signed "I love your pizza

I'm sorry I used your restroom to stick my finger down my throat"

only pictures of rich or famous people will grace the walls

just like everywhere else just like Greenpoint Brooklyn

The teens have moved on from Messerole & Manhattan the slice

warms the palm of my hand soon it'll warm my belly

I wonder if you would still love me if I had a belly well would you

bother to make me speechless really I'm practically dead

without you tonight not even Laurie's Polish landlady

sticks her head out to acknowledge me climbing the stairs

if I lived here I'd owe her a lot of money but I don't what a relief

I have teeth and a tongue and use them to eat the pizza

it goes without saying they won't be used for anything else tonight

tho I'll chew on my memories of you even as they're fading

will you still love me when you arrive in New York if there's no heaven

we can live out our days out by the sea or near Coney Island

I imagine we'll live wild & tangled like seaweed

you smell like the ocean and used to come quickly I do remember

I have enough to eat I live in Brooklyn these are small miracles

I'm glad I bothered to think of them even as I think of you

are you the same person you were yesterday I like to think so

tho it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't like the airplane I hear

out Laurie's window is not the same one I saw earlier nothing's perfect

if it were there'd be no room for improvement o quickly

imagine me no longer writing this to you but home

Seen from one corner of the room folding this page up standing

& walking it over to you "Here" where you sit reading something

you take your eyes from to see me standing above you

handing you this letter folded neatly but in haste wanting you

to take this from my hands how warm they are now I've eaten

will you think of lovers as you read this will you read me

as a lover reads noon & wind and not as someone wanting something

Brooklyn fades Laurie's apartment disintegrates everyone's had

a bad time none of this is anything but words

from the biting-mouth part of your lover his nakedness

seen thru like a jungle or tangle of seaweed he being only the I

it's darkest against there is nothing to say about him

but what's been said here no account without meaning

like this world your eyes glow in amber is open all night lost by me

Love,

Gary

 

 

 

Gary Sullivan

 

 

Gary Sullivan