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fabulous mess mixedtape #3

KLIKKHER

Patrick Wolf - Time of my life

Patrick Wolf is releasing a new album in May 2011, until then we can enjoy this new single of his, Time of my life.


Two nice remixes can be found and downloaded here

drunk poems

I really like the drunk poems on this website:
metaphysicaldrinking.blogspot.com

I LOVE YOU, I MEAN, I'M SORRY
WHAT DID I MEAN BY "YOUR DRESS, YOUR BLACK DRESS, YOUR FACE, KNIFE ME."
AND SOMETIMES, THE BLACKENING OF YOU AGAINST THE DAY WOULD DRINK ME
UNDER THE TABLE AND WARN ME WITH A GLANCE. BUT THESE DAYS, THESE FUCKING
DAYS, WILL KEEP ME AND KEEP ME.

AND I WILL KEEP THIS FACEBOOK GIFT FOREVER
THIS IMAGE OF A FOAM GLOVE. THIS WILL REMIND ME OF THE FALSE IDENTITIES
THAT YOU AND I AND EVERYONE FUCKS INTO THE SAND.

AND RIGHT NOW I AM SHAKING AND I KEEP THINKING THAT WE ARE ONLY
DIRT MOVING IN VAGUELY INTERESTING WAYS.
-Bryan Coffelt


NO ANIMAL SHALL SLEEP IN A BED

THIS BEING THE HEARTBREAKING STORE MANAGER IN A SHRINKING
PARKING LOT, SMOKING LOST TIME. TUSSLING HAIR IN SENTENCES
AND PULSING BOUNCED CHECKS. THIS BEING THE MOST YOU CAN
WEEN FROM THE SPACE BETWEEN CHEWING AND SINGING. THOUGH WHEN
YOU SING, IT SOUNDS FOGGY, LIKE CAR ALARMS AND BRIDGES RAISING.
-Bryan Coffelt

If you click the link and then this guys name you will find links for more great poemblogs.

One of which is http://hickoryassbags.blogspot.com/
where I found among others this one

GOD LEFT HIS LINENS IN MY PURSE

So I settled for masturbation and mouth wash
and channeling the spirits of dead mice.

Call me the sister with the hop chop,
the shiny shoes with the stampede sole.

Tonight, we're totally an acid reflux hoodie
bumping the head out the hands stuffed.

"Don't call it a comeback," said the lifer
to the guard. "I'll be gone one way."

Sometimes your head looks like this: { }
which frightens me. No, it excites me.

My wig burns. My dick frisks itself.
It looks like this: 8====:(((((((

because you are not there


.....
and this one

ALL YOUR FACES ARE PORNO FACES

Sorry, I don't eat virgins, but I like how they taste.
I am wasted again. Someone threw me away without
squeezing out the last bit. It hurts like a sun-monkey,
this unpeeling and retrying. Momma won't you hit
refresh? Pet me like a snowstorm? Moose me like a
moose cub, raise me with a lick? Bear me like a bear
cub, falling down the avalanche--if it's okay with you.
All the blobbiness of the earth keeps worsening,
somehow. I know that it cannot get worse, right?
It can only turn to wassail and I'll be your sexy clove.
The river is outside, unable to leak, and your face
oh your face is not a botched moon landing ah
but it is! That's okay though. Really, it is.
Have you ever got horny on the moon?
Crater lotion and helmet fog. Squinchy
is how the eyes go when you die, overdue.
Feeling is what makes it worse but fuck it:
the chorus of empty keeps shouting at me
"THE PERSON WHO INVENTED OKAY IS NOT."
It's an anthem, but it's got addendums.
Addendum #1: This ease of the heart-throb.
Addendum #2: Things that cannot break.
Addendum #3: Midnight. Fucking. Ham.
Addendums #4--∞: The morning after, oh hell.
Addendum #∞: Oh jiminey and the wrens.
Addendum #∞+1: Blah, blah, blah, blah.
I have nothing left to say. Come here.


Too bad reading on the internet sucks. Therefore I will print all of these blogs and hang them on my wall or stich them together like tiny books. I encourage you to do the same.

One could also buy these guys books:

Bryan Coffelt 2 chapbooks for 5 dollars.
SAM PINK 30 dollars for all three of his books on Amazon.

Another Sam Pink book for sale here: I am going to clone myself then kill the clone and eat it
Drunk Poems by Daniel Bailey 10 dollars
Drunk Sonnets signed.
Mike Young books