Paris Apartment, an album by Jem and Kent

Monday, 31 July 2017

A Lady


A turn of her cheek,
Exquisite,
Deft,
Perfectly timed.
Desirable, admirable 
Denial.



Parkstreet

Jet Set


Airport hotel
Zen.
Double glazed silence,
Watching jets
Roar.



Parkstreet





Buddhist Girl


Buddhist girl
I want
To sit
Under
Your Bodhi.



Parkstreet

I Like Your Boots


In an alternate universe
You and I are lovers,
But you
Still wear those boots.



Parkstreet.

Musicians


We look out
Through our own
Twisted prisms. 

Egomaniacs, pretenders, psychopaths, actors and fools.

And yet,
We don't go on about KPI's, 
So that's something.



Parkstreet.

Politics, The Moon, Love


You can't own land, Earth doesn't recognise title deeds, all you can do is control the wealth that humans associate with land, and refuse to share it.

You see? I would give you the moon, but my politics won't allow it.




Parkstreet.

Tea And Sigh


He handed me a shopping list.

aspirin
sleeping pills
vodka
razor blades

Sharing an apartment
With a poet
Can be wearing.

They can't make tea
And sigh
Like normal people.



Parkstreet.

Like The Twin Suns Of Tatooine


When she quoted Star Wars
Accurately,
Humorously,
In context,
I saw her dazzling eyes
For the first time.




Parkstreet

Right Now


Right now
I'd love to be walking past The Know,
On NE Alberta,
Dodging
The inaccurate spitting technique
Of the underage rock chicks
Hanging outside,
Bless their little torn stockings.



Parkstreet

(cue dancing girls)


Brush off my old blues suit, 
Borrow a sombre tie.
Polish my black mood shoes,
Time to say goodbye.

A rite
Must be performed.
And you,
A performer,
And me,
A performer,
Identical costumes
For the show.

Words written.
Bullet bitten.
Nerve uncertain,
Open curtain.

Words spoken.
Heart broken.
Voice broken.
Everything is broken.

But hey,
At least I'm looking good,
Right mate? 
You too.

The show must go on.
(cue dancing girls).





Parkstreet

Paint Flakes


Hope has flaked
Like the cheap paint
On the sun burned window sills
Of a rented apartment.

He sees the window sills as beautiful,
"Look at the texture", he says.
She didn't know that living with an artist
Would be like this.

She leaves her goodbye note
In a pile of swept up paint flakes
On the floor.


Parkstreet

Sunday, 30 July 2017

The Past Can Kiss My Arse


The past
Can kiss my arse.

The past,
Stumbling about like an old drunk,
Butting into conversations,
Repeating itself
Like a scratched record that pokes me in the chest and insists I listen,
Keeping me awake
With its flatulent,
Wise man,
Boring
Foolishness.

The past
Can kiss my arse. 



Parkstreet

Don't Fence Me In


The ceilings in this studio apartment
Are so low
There isn't room
For a man
To hang himself.



Parkstreet

When He Said You Were Beautiful


When he said you were beautiful
He didn't notice that your hair was dry and rough from being dyed for too many years,
He didn't notice the worried lines around your eyes,
He didn't notice the scar on your chin, although he did recall the story behind it.
He didn't notice the creases on your neck, from when you put on weight during pregnancy.
He didn't notice the stretch marks on your belly or the cellulite on your thighs. 
He did notice your funny knees, but he always found them charming.

He saw all these things,
But he didn't notice them. 
All he noticed was that you were beautiful. 
Then he said you were beautiful.



Parkstreet

Synonym


Did I say beautiful?
I meant to say
Brutal. 

I sometimes
Confuse the two.



Parkstreet

5th And Washington


Standing on a bus stop
On the other side of the world,
Waiting to be transported 
A few miles down the road.

For a few moments
Feel Earth spinning
Under feet,
Recall sunrise
Flying into California,
Coming towards
As I came towards.

Board bus,
Feel Earth spinning
Under spinning wheels,
Distracted by locating
5th and Washington,
Alight bus,
Step back
Onto flat earth.



Parkstreet 

Domesticated


I think of you
Three times
Before sleep,
A dog
Turning three times,
A memory
Of wild wolf nights.




Parkstreet

May I Have The Pleasure?


The ghosts
Of the hairs
On the back of my neck
Stand up
To ask
The ghosts
Of the hairs
On the back of your neck
To dance.




Parkstreet

Distance


All I needed to know
Was that sometimes
One corner of your mouth
Smiled a little
When I wasn't around.



Parkstreet

Worms


The early bird
Catches the worm.
At this hour
The cafe is closed
So I must take
Railway station coffee
And croissant
Which may as well
Be worms.



Parkstreet

Not Magic


My world weary Wendy,
You thought me a silly boy
When I wanted us to fly around the world.

But I knew we'd have to save money,
Fly Qantas,
Not magic.



Parkstreet

Hey Little Punky Girl


Hey,
Little punky girl, 
You reckon you invented 
Angst?

You're like a Gilligan's Island 
Rerun,
Much less fun,
And you ain't no Mary Ann.



Parkstreet

Friday, 28 July 2017

The Patron Saint Of Celebrities


He's the assistant
To the photographer
To the stars.

The photographer tells him,
"We're not here
To take their portrait,
We're here
To make them feel loved".

So,
Wherever they go,
The assistant
To the photographer
To the stars
Steals
One silver teaspoon
And one pair of knickers,
And the stars
Know they are loved.




Parkstreet

A Wise Bear


If a bear
Wants to be a bear, 
Wild and free,
It is best
He doesn't reveal
He can dance.



Parkstreet

Lie On Me Like A Blanket


Come back to bed,
Lie on me like a blanket.
A blanket with clumsy knees
And sharp elbows.

Rest your coffee breath
On my ear,
Your warm thigh
On my belly,
Your awake hands
In my hair.

Lie on me,
Like a blanket,
Let me feel
Your weight,
Warm and awake and alive,
While I sleep.

Parkstreet

What The World Needs Now


What the world
Needs now
Is a big
And bloody
War,
So the music
Gets good again.

Parkstreet

Blink Twice


Zero mass,
Pure radiation,
Not a hook
To hang my hat on.
Am I travelling light?
I'm a photon.
Blink twice,
I'm gone.

Parkstreet

Unsure


Unsure
If he is in love,
Or in the tropics,
The sound of mosquitoes
Spawning in his bedside
Water glass
Wakes him from dreams
Of her.

Parkstreet

Unable


Unable
To shed his old skin
He grew ever more
Tightly bound
And thin skinned
As he grew
Larger.

Until he grew old
And shrunk,
Comfortable 
In his own skin
At last.

Parkstreet

Two Guitars


The floor
Of my apartment 
Is covered
By guitar cases.
Two.
Two guitar cases.
This is about
How small
My apartment is,
Not about
Guitars.


Parkstreet

Vigil


Awake,
Wide open one a.m.
Window

Sitting silently smoking,
Searching streetscape.

Wanting a witness.

To see,
To assure Self
Exists.



Parkstreet








Not A Metaphor


Dreary laundromat,
Clothes dryer timer,
Counting down minutes,
Then seconds.

When my time is up
I'll go
To a better place.

Perhaps a cafe?

Or somewhere else
That exists.


Parkstreet

And Mexico


And Mexico
Can be anywhere,
And instead of being rich
And pretending we are poor,
We can be poor,
And pretend we are rich, 
And pretending to be poor,
And Mexico
Can be anywhere.





Parkstreet

Oh Echo



"Echo."

"Echo."

"Echo, I know your story."

"Story."

"Because you fooled Hera she punished you."

"You."

"You were doomed to speak only the last word you heard, forever."

"Forever."

"Echo, I'm here to tell you that the gods are dead."

"Dead."

"Echo, I'm here to set you free."

"Free."

"Echo, the gods are dead, they can no longer punish you, be free."

"Free."

"Please Echo, be free."

"Free."

"Please Echo!"

"Echo!"

"Oh, Echo!"

"Echo!"





Parkstreet

Green Beans, Unrequited


You remember a time when you were a kid, your mother was a little flustered cooking dinner, she boiled the green beans a little too long, then forgot to drain them, then let them go a little cold, so they were mushy and a little bitter and squeaked between your teeth when you ate them, but your father was giving you that look, so you just had to chew them up, squashed in with some mashed potato, then many years later, you told a girl that you loved her, and she returned a sympathetic smile, then she asked you what you were thinking about and you replied, "green beans", and she thought you were being a little bitter and having a joke at her expense, but the sensation in your mouth was exactly the same and there was no way to explain and you never saw her again, and you had to chew it up, eased down with some liquor, because your father's eyes taught you that's what you do.

Parkstreet