the burlesque poetess(s)

poem-a-day week27 “If you can’t sweat your way into fishnets / You can always merge with the words”

November 1-7, 2010 week27: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD

The 2 Boston nights of the Dresden Dolls Reunion Tour…epic and rare. So they as a pair are the teaser. i was part of the meta-crowd-busk-ruckus, majorette-ing w. fellow Broken TOys Kevin Corzett (bari sax) & Tj “Terrorence” Horn (Rufio hobo drum kit) for Emperor Norton’s Stationary Marching Band. Huzzah! Close 2nd for teaser-poem is #186 “A mirror-holding figure.” For Helena xo. You know, not just cos’ it was a carnie time— i’m really proud of these poems from this week. Neat. i hope you enjoy.

182. Novemeber 2, 2010 (dresden dolls, wilbur theatre night1, tues.)

I’m objectifying all of you! This whole line!

Women’s waists used to cinch in or
Rather forcibly squeeze past velvet
Ushers, repeat cabaret offenders in the cold

Some kind of communist pilot
Mucks up the sound system
A dolls tribute to masquerade ball

-jointed elbows and knees
Detailed by quick strokes of india ink
“We McFuckings never apologize!”

“I’m picturing a lot of cold sheep” your clan
The opening number rips open
The last decade of underage tour-shirts

Corset’d at the merch table
A kid with black blush nodding violently
Snarling every word alongside the ripping

Banging of keys and skin
Petals scattered fetal around the monitors
So this is devotion, ritual lyricism

Gatling gun strobe light
Making a pair of pre-code cartoons
Stage lightning silhouettes

If you can’t sweat your way into fishnets
You can always merge with the words
We all don’t fit in
These shell casings
Mother of pearl clips

ENSMB, two nights of street carnie and theatre parading fury! (AFP’s twitpic of Kev & co.)

183. November 3, 2010 (wed. ddolls @ Wilbur night2)

Degenerate terra cotta

If you feel like you went down with the ship
‘s orchestra, then get in the van
Our composer has spare buttons

The majorette is drawing straws
For the lovers behind sticky registers
Intentions are un-weighted, without glitter

Water in my cup you could mistake
Me for the other moustache’d half
If you’re offering a seat in the red mezzanine

Throng, stop staring at the honeymooner
Lingerie, sweet cheeks ascending marble stair
Redundant really, someone’s crinoline comment

On the rarity of natural blonde goths
The elongated neck of the actress
And the recurring encore of violence

Lead us to the South Street diner
(Cupcake fairies can’t kiss everyone)
The taxis passing by had wondered:

What is this brassy pack of gypsy smokes?
AWOL vagrants’ fruity theatrics
In the streets of the theatre district?

It’s the punk cabaret warm up,
The ballerina stretching side-stage in chalk

*brown bag blue ribbon Titanicsicle prize i made for dear @selinaDF (tumble-read all about it)

the rest of the poems li(v)e below!

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