Author: Cody Swann

9/14/12 12:58pm – 10/22/12 3:33am

take his nosebleed as a sign
(the expected bouquet)

it’s easy to see in the nosebleed section
who the ticket holder really puts first
but it’s only when this show of affection
has him seated in a different location
than his better half is he at his worst

no stranger to the expected bouquet
she’s surprised he tries musical theater
two thousand five hundred & fifty-five days
seems long enough to put money away
for the obligated to celebrate her

he squints to see the stage while she squints to see him
just a matter of time before the house lights dim

9/9/12  10:45am – 9/20/12 9:49am

at a quarter to eight

a phone that works only half the time
is worth twice the trouble
thoughts of undelivered messages
let the imagination double

were her words lost on the way
to say she’s running late?
this is where she said to meet
at a quarter to eight

it’s fifteen after though
with no word or update
her fate assumed to be
the worst i could create

a missing persons report
in short would be a great
way to break the ice
if she turns up for this date

if he kidnapped her then i
know my story must be straight
otherwise headlines will read
“suspect to have killed soul mate”

but there’s nothing more to do
but chew what’s on my plate
oh how the mind can move
while the body sits & waits

9/8/12 5:28pm – 3/25/13 11:47pn

total running time

I
total running time

it will happen when i’m out strolling to
finish a thought.
a driver will lose control of his or her
vehicle and kill me.
of this i’m sure, but what of the
unfinished thought?

i don’t think that it misses a syllable.
at the moment of departure the thought
continues unaware of what’s played out.
no longer within the confines of a skull.

hurdling through outer-spaces currents
while black, blue, & purple pigments mix
only to be carried to a backwards
casket for incubation until arrival.

the first few years spent vacuuming out a past life.

II
a will up for discussion

when i pass away please donate all of my poems
& belongings to whoever comes forward as my reincarnation.
i must have been born at least one second after my departure.
when coming forward to claim my estate i will have one
attempt to correctly recite the three passwords that grant
access to my estate.
if i correctly recite the passwords, but do not wish to claim
these possessions then I can not be me.

9/6/12 8:20am

auto-exhaustive harvesting

auto-exhaustive harvesting:
numbing ones brain to the meaning of an object for
the purposes of therapeautic expression.

ex. learning to sleep with  running water
as background music.

ex. writing about a personal topic until it loses strength.

9/5/12 2:50pm

last swim of the summer

growing up i only enjoyed the pool when
others were around to enjoy it with me.
as i get older i find myself drawn to it not
for comradery, but rather the sedation it offers.
from the first dip below the surface i’m already lost.
the sounds from the world above remain exactly that.
a chance for the nothingness to fill my ears with
dense sounds of water’s weight.
drop’s sounds are magnified to hear the alien
communications they really are.
below i am unable to catch the very breath that i need
to go on living.
it’s impressive that while denying a body it’s  most
essential need it still has the ability to create in the
near-wake of it’s death.
the body shortly after forces the mind against it’s will
to ascend.
the closest thing to dreaming while awake ive experienced.
a dragonfly has become curious of me and i of it while
taking this dip.
it is the first time possibly for us both to be close to each
others kind.
the way it floats around me with absolute confidence
confirms it’s interest.
slowly I extend a wet hand to offer a temporary landing
space.
it makes use of my hand as we both sit observing one another.
i do my best to rotate my hand three hundred and sixty-five
degrees to get a good look at this creature i’ve skimmed
over without a second thought most my life.
as my hand rotates it’s eyes appear to never lose track of mine
a throbbing erection makes itself known.

9/4/12 12:25am

in and of itself

she glides her finger-tips across my back.
it’s done in a manner so graceful.
it’s as if to say she could make them walk on water. i want to speak out and guide her to the spots that would give me instant sensation. i refrain from sound though.
i do not dare to disturb her wordless strokes.
the caressing sucks up all of the stress and nuiances of today becoming yesterday.
then before i can come to learn her patterns she’s switched to shorter; more accelerated circles. all the while finding the dips and grooves of a back made weary by the weight of hours. i come to appreciate my silence.
her motions that feel random are calculated;
full of precision that she might not be aware of her self. she’s telling me without words where it is that requires attention.
it becomes harder for me to differentiate whether or not two hands are working.
trying to count fingers in constant motion proves difficult to do. before i can get a number it’s over. her hands return to her side. a new pattern in and of itself.
i can feel the goosebumps returning.

9/4/12 6:42pm

piss shy

a giant shaft of a penis is spread across
a universal landscape.
there are more than a couple male faces
making various exaggerated expressions.
laughter, awe, shock, & anger all make an
appearance.
their physical appearance is of baroque-era
conductors.

all of their eyes seem to be drawn into the
orbital direction of the phallic behemoth.
the flesh cannon is aimed in a direction
opposite their faces.
they are at the very least out of harms way
for both their & the shafts sake.
there is a wine cork stuffed into the urethra.

the first male is holding his eyeballs in his
hands as if they were binoculars with a
furrowed brow & tight lips.
the second male is in awe while he uses his
ears like a pulley to support the cork that’s
now in place.
a third male laughs hysterically while his eye
balls swing a hammer toward the cork to plug
what little drops escape past the dam.

9/1/12 10:45pm

i digress

sometimes it’s weird for me to think that I’m staring out of
the control station of my body.
able to man & move all of these parts just by thinking it.
i don’t even have to hire someone to do it.
just a natural energy that works as a fuel.
what’s weird is that i can’t tell the difference between thinking
about doing something and actually doing it.
i’m sitting here thinking, “move your pinky”, but i don’t move it.
but if i want to move my pinky i can move it.
when i do in fact move my pinky it doesn’t feel like I am even thinking
it before it’s done, but! i know that it has to be run by my brain before
the action is carried out.
the more i think into this theory i realize that there is actually a short
window of time where i think about “moving my pinky” before i actually
do it.
even as i sit here my face itches and i scratched it without thinking.
just an automatic response to a feeling.
now that i’ve pointed that out i am “consulting myself” before scratching
my face.
i think i prefer the automatic response to this.
i’ve come to the realization that we need “automatic” otherwise you will
have no room in your mind for thought.
these actions aren’t in need of questioning or consideration.
just response.
not to mention i have the “bugs crawling on my skin” effect in full motion
from all this talk of itching.
i think this overthinking of response actions can cripple people.
not always, but a lot of times i will overthink them in social situations.
basically, “maybe i should hold my arm this way while sitting here”
or “I should cross my leg as this girl approaches me with my order”.
treating my own body language and naturalities as an accessory.
as if i was sifting through my closet second guessing outfit choices.
i don’t think ones’s life should be spent any second longer than nessecary
thinking of these things.
maybe i’m totally wrong, but it feels like i’ve convinced myself that this is
just some heightened sense of introversion.
to be used at my disposal like some kind of sick gift.
playing on a seesaw of whether or not it’s worth getting rid of the thing that
might break me while lighting my way.
i don’t know what to make of all this.
truthfully i don’t even remember what started to finish here.
i remember the itching part at least because I’m still scratching.
maybe i’m finished because i just remembered..truthfully i forgot once again
while writing that sentence.
i’m not sure if this would be sad or amusing to someone reading.
alarming to those who know me or maybe it comes as no surprise.
i know there is a world outside of my mind that i’ve yet to take in.
when i try to observe this world i just want to be back in my head though.
i’ve been sitting on a bench outside an ice cream parlor for maybe the past twenty
minutes.
i might as well have been in a deep state of sleep.
i could barely recall, but a few details that have transpired. the dog barking from a
direction i could not make out is about it.
i’m distracted while writing this.
a group of girls have now taken a place on a bench to the left of me.
as plain jane, what’s her face, & john doe’s sister sit beside me i feel the social
anxieties coming on.
my hair now parted perfectly.
strategically picking my spots for when i touch my greasy; pomade infested top.
so not to seem like the vain tool that i actually am.
a perfect example on display for all.
touching the toothpick in my mouth with a hand so mannered.
is that attractive?
their faces are only peripheral vision blurs as are their words that i tune out to
write this.
i sit and pose for them when i have not the slightest idea of whether they’d be
worth knowing.
they have long since walked away.
they threw away not empty dessert cups and spoke about it.
naturally i cross my right leg over my left, scratch my left eye, and straighten my back.
only to naturally slip into my seat and hunch over as i sit here.
i need to piss.
the guy who works at the place told me the bathroom was closed.
in an effort to not appear like a normal person who just had to piss i asked if they were
still serving drinks.
juggling my words i ordered an iced tea i don’t want.
his good cop alter ego tells me “she might be almost done cleaning if you need
to use the restroom”
i pay for my glass of principal. don’t tip. don’t piss. there is a full ice tea
floating in the trash outside.

8/26/12 3:33am – 4/21/13 3:05pm

your chin’s at permanent rest upon your shoulder
to see what about me’s giving you the shivers
there is something about the way your lip quivers
when your beauty’s in the eye of this beholder

staring:
unknown as
“the eye of this beholder” & “i”
cody swann as
“a he who was who i wished was me”
, “he”, & “him”
zahira gutierrez as
“her” & “she”

III
i was on my way down an escalator
when i first & last heard her speak.
she told a he who was who i wished
was me, “i’m going to run to the
restroom before we go”.
it was inside of a two-story “sealed-
only” bookstore that i had been
following her (“them” by association)
for some time.
watching as she navigated aisles of
loosely alphabetized authors in search
of a last name that fell
somewhere between “m-p”.
her steps, although slow, were focused.
unlike most, she was not searching for
her head.
she was forward motion & i, like
everyone else, was a being suspended.

IV
HE. was just trying to keep up with her.
the two of us had that in common.
i resigned myself to there being no
shot of catching up.
& THAT is where WE differed.
his appearance, it’s safe to say, was
what most would describe as classically
handsome.
complete with this face that looked to
have been meticulously worked on by
some master sculptor.
which is where we secondly & also
sadly differed.
my face & body unfortunately looked
more like they were left in the oven too long.

V
i take shelter in knowing that the most
interesting thing about saps like him
(their looks usually) is the very thing
that they had the least say in.
to me it’s as pointless as priding yourself
in the name you were given.
don’t get me wrong she was gorgeous too,
but it did not end there.
it may have been that my hope sprang from
my observation that almost no one roots
for the guy like him.
it doesn’t seem right that the man already
blessed should have all of life’s great
inventions falling into his lap.
you don’t have to win the lotto to understand
the moral dilemma you’d have purchasing the
following week’s ticket.

VI
there’s nothing quite like the simple joy
that can be took in walking up the
down escalator.
i considered it an exemplary form of
the most basic; day to day rebellion.
that day i took a particularly pleasant
set of steps when she gave him his cue
to separate & me my cue to follow.
they parted & he began to kill time
browsing the art history for dummies
section.
searching for what i can only imagine
was the feeling of himself being made
useful.
i assumed it made no difference that
they were sealed if i had imagined
correctly about the front cover being
his usual stopping point.
any purchases of his i also assumed
were merely to validate a still-empty
bookshelf he had come to own.

VII
the coast was as clear as it was ever
going to be.
she was not yet out of my sights & there
i was already retracing her steps toward
the women’s restroom.
on my walk i began to realize that i’d
spent all of my time thinking about how
to get her alone & now, closer than ever,
i hadn’t put much thought behind what
i was going to do or say to her.
i concluded that i was a spontaneous
enough guy to just feel it out in the
moment & wing it accordingly.
for proof of this just look at the way i
could derail my day at the sight of her.
although it could be argued that my
day was fruitless before her.

VIII
as i began to close the gap between us
i could hear the time between the sound
of her steps beginning to grow shorter.
we had ourselves a race..& i could not
help but wonder if she had sensed me
behind her.
& if she had i couldn’t get close enough
to see if the hairs on the back of her
neck were standing up.
she wound up beating me by a mile to
the finish line.
i was discouraged, but i knew it only
right to finish the race you started.
visualizing my prize, i rounded the final
corner that lead where the men & women’s
restrooms split off when suddenly i was
stopped dead in my tracks.

IX
there she stood; leaning against the
ribbon unbroken.
she had to have been expecting company
since she had refused to pass through
the door.
i was completely thrown off of my game.
i could not even bring myself to play it
cool by entering the men’s restroom.
she had won what was perhaps the
easiest staring contest ever played.
i turned one hundred & eighty degrees
& began to run damage control through
my head.
if she looked she would have seen the
hairs standing on the back of my neck.
if she listened she would have heard the
sound of my steps growing shorter.

X
i made my way for the down escalator
knowing good & well that on this ride down
i would not be partaking in any simple joys.
i stepped on & began to let the machine
do my leg’s work for me.
i had only descended a couple steps when
i heard from behind me feet stepping on
& the sound of whispering.
not to my surprise it was them.
the guy was no tall glass of water so i
didn’t sweat it too much.
i could only laugh to myself when i glanced
back & caught a glimpse of him placing an
arm around her shoulder.
as if i would not have known she was
“his” otherwise.
i wondered if he only ever touched her
when other men were watching.
she must have what she thinks is a
very affectionate boyfriend.
i laughed to myself, to them, & at the
joy i’d take the rest of my way down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8/15/12 4am – 8/30/12 11:35pm

heaven is a bathroom with a lock

heaven is a bathroom with a lock
an entrance to an exit where
wasted water drowns out every knock
of flushed goldfish that come up for air

here time becomes change you can spare
spent watching how one arm can grow
but when knocking breaks me from prayer
then it’s back to the world below

it’s where something that’s good will go
if there’s one thing all heavens say true
the second’s the life you will owe
the second the lock turns on you

same hand; different thought
in this world my libido’s not