A happier death.

Alexander Ziperovich

The somnolence of a cathedral encircled in coal-blackened doves and the howling of the wind above could be the only thing that persisted in a man’s being. The only thing a man could hear beyond the retched tune of the infallibility of a diseased world. There will be no deliverance, the golden scrolls and pythagorus and his minions all dancing hysterically, missing second red buttons on the collars of their tunics, stained with blood and grime. The odor of the ground and the heartily giggling sky mingling like inbred felines. There is a danger in this place, walking like this on this city like Thor. There is a fever in all of this that will produce no more than a storm that would devour the earth and hawk out its lungs histrionically.

To live one must die and to die one must sacrifice; the ancients and the gods and the devils and the angels all in one massive orgy of sweet surrender to the soaring winds of never.

Nevermore. Pickled souls and unwritten golden saffron inscription-less scrolls.

Let us die so that we may live again.

Unchained by the hubris of our emotional dilemma.

A dagger, four fingers in the heart.

Buried with roses and rocks.

PROPANE @ 1412

Alex Ziperovich reading for Move @ Gallery 1412

Published

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Alex Reading Prose @ The In on January 26

Alex Ziperovich reads an excerpt from his memoir, titled “Junkie Goes To Hospital”. Enjoy.

Once A True Love

Ziperovich

Saltwater, she tasted like everything so I sang and she sang,  we sang to each other like so many saints until we died on the cross, true love shed true blood tis true love as could an artist paint if he had any cruel lust and a canvas with a few bruises, a few cuts

Tainted bed, listen close, the only girl I ever met, poisonous lead, a porcelain face,  enough beauty to break necks, shuttered, dying in a forest with enough God to be seen on the horizon, the sunset disguised as a fool smiling and smiling, dying and dying

I love you, yes I do, I made you grow, I meant to tell you sooner, I meant to slit my wrists in the afternoon before you knew, we all of us here meant to watch the blood sink into the sink like glue, but more like water, so soon we’ll know if it’s no son, no daughter, yes love a slaughter because we all, I mean, I just love(d) you, cauterize the wounds, nevermind, don’t bother it’ll probably cut you

I held on to the tightest ropes on Himalayan slopes until there was no more, just screaming and good dope and increasing suicidal ideations and us both seeking some way to cope with your violations but there isn’t a way and we found that out quick, both fucked in our heads like freed slaves diving, holding hands, from a slave ship

Hate it or love it, my biblical covenant, a way to adhere to, before I said, NO, FUCK THIS, gave it all up for random sex with cute things, what a way to take the shotgun out and shoot things, make sure they’re dead before you begin to cook things with the hot barrel of the rifle pressed against you as you try to sing new feelings

Always the housekeeper, the loud screamer, always the girl without meaning, the non-believer, just danced around ourselves like we always did, one or two grams of this to make us happy kids, to make Alex’s heart skip, that’s just how we sinned and that’s how you’ll do forever like superglue, who are you but a pretty grim face I fell in love with before I said loyalty is something I can’t fuck with, before I said no, she’s insane, how does this work in my favor, does it, does the pain in the rain snorting caine even belabor the kind of crying eyes that we savor, the kind of dying wine that we favor, the silent, mindless time I saved for her?

There once was a perfect girl in a perfect world giving me tissues to wipe the tears from my worthless pearls and then I found out that humanity ran afoul and she looked upon me with every single perfection laid like sun upon me and I rejected my own torture but I despised my own forfeiture and I just wanted it to be like it was when I had random sex with whores that didn’t eat my coursing blue blood until it exploded into the air like dirty, rotten, lovely, beautiful, make-shift true love coming from oil rigs instead it’s blue blood psychotic stomp stomp on psychotic floors with broken psychotic chores, a poet soaking in a bath until I drown like Jim from the Doors

Let this page catch fire, a common theme I know you’ll admire, you might find this destitute lest you’re of true fire, you’ve mired a sobbing poet into a frothing hoe-get and a slothful more-pig but I admire it all, the way you caught me ecstasy, made me believe it all wasn’t a dream instead the MDMA made us just believe, no matter we looked senseless, we were there in your bed looking at each other breathless in love with our fake mutual serotonergic death wish – let’s kiss

I never died I just multiply with girls that would make you sick and defiant and violent if you looked into their eyes, zero shame, but I’m allowed Saudi princess’ that aren’t insane and aren’t afraid you’re now a past mistress, nothing more, I let you live this and then your death is something poor, in your world it’s shit, I got a new way of seeing me past this, just finished fucking the last chick and I just wanted nothing but to tell you what’s on my mind, for laughs bitch, so it’s really nothing, unless you suddenly figure out emotions and feelings and human beings, which you’re incapable of, so I escaped from your dusty rust to bathe in hugs and taste other tongues soft like Persian rugs not hard, worthless love

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