Nicholas Karavatos, April 2014

Conspiracy Theories

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I felt a strong curtain come down

Inside me. It was a good run.

Fifteen years. Strike that set.

We have a new stage

To craft.

What a relief you didn’t tell me to

Tear my heart off

My sleeve and shove it

Back down

My throat where it

Belongs.

Singling:

Can’t get own without being else’s

…………………………….back away here from where are

getting the getter gets

……………………………………never promise seems to be

then gone seem else’s own.

…………………………….Different loves me all

have and will and it

                                                                               the broken string I have not

fixed all weekend on my guitar

………………………can feel it broken

in me and the music.

 

1. The Story of Our Romance? She Dreams of Me and then Writes:

 

We were flying this 6-seater plane into Damascus

& you put it on autopilot & went into the bathroom.

I kept yelling for you.

 

The wingtip hit a building and sheared off

so I flew it & it crashed into this river.

 

You were all bloody & wild-eyed.

I tried to hug you but you backed away & said, “Why’d you do it?”

You thought I crashed the plane on purpose!

 

We yelled a whole bunch & I suddenly realized my bags were gone

and then I was yelling, “Fuck you, Nick, I’m going shoe shopping!”

It was pretty exciting.

Besides the bathroom incident, you were a good pilot.

 

The Klamath was the river flowing through Damascus

& the water was cold.

 

2. Without a Word after All These Years, Siena Dreams of Me and Writes:

 

Nick is a world famous guitarist living penniless

but happy on the streets of Moscow.

It is winter so he shacks

up with heiresses at night but

they kick Nick out in the morning.

 

3. After Our Secret Berkeley

 

Back in San Francisco

 

Lisa sits in my window smoking

Almost all night

Then says,     “Now

 

You need to let me sit on your lap,”

 

In just her skirt & shirt

Since our hot

Tub

 

After Café Nomad.     Now             almost

Another day.

 

4. Brunch

Tearing off
Leila’s under
garments make
a morning
after shop
ping date.

5. That’s a Bitch of a Romance

 

I forget to fuck

You at night. I

Fall asleep.

 

Everywhere at the Festival yesterday, I

Kept seeing people who used to be there.

 

No time for losers ‘cause

We are the eyes of the world.

 

Covet my neighbor’s

Enemy as myself.

 

Heaven is a snore, or less.

 

Re-entry’s

Rug burn.

 

The muscle

Pulled itself, said

The pill.

It hurts but I still have to fuck you.

 

“If only you’d do it for free / I’d give you everything.”

 

6. The Bad Poem:

 

I look into my coffee cup / I look into your pupils / both are black, round / and when I speak / I pour / and both grow pale / as my courage.

 

 

 

Some text in this poem had previously appeared in poems published by Sukoon and Horror, Sleaze, Trash.

Promote. Poetry.
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