The Subtle Bustle

Quietly urgent words. Daily.

[subtlebustle]

[nº 343] My Poet's Desert

I’ve been here for weeks, now: no wonder, no words, just no, no, no, and dust, and tiny worlds in grains I can’t apprehend, my eyes opaque, my ears stuffed, my nose crusted, my mouth swollen, my hands cracked.

The sun lashes me with my own expectations, and dreams, and hopes, while the quiet, cool palms have withdrawn behind the infinite line of invisibility, and the bright, giggling waters have fled to couple with their lover the sky.

There’s no difference, sitting or lying, so today one, tomorrow another, yet I grasp at the quivering straw of wandering myself out of this, my poet’s desert.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h23 24.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 342

Aphrodite touched my hand, and now what?

dry and swollen, my tongue flails like a gasping fish and my lips, pale and puffy, wriggle like larvae in the beggar breath between my ears.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h41 22.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 341

The thing inside wants to be apprehended, like a crook who sets himself up, hands red, nails dirty, grin twisting, eyes rolling;

but the whole plan was secret, and the cops didn’t show until the spots were cocked and aimed, the curtains lifted.

There’s no overture for this act, and the program was dissolved inside the amniotic sac and floats inside the veins;

but blood is thicker through rose-coloured glasses, and even so, water was always thinner.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 22h27 18.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 340

My ordinary extraordinary, my universal unique: unlabelled lip balm, starred cell phone screen, fugitive keys and chained, books in rows and piles, fat dictionary of forgotten words, the names of dogs and long dead fish, children tall on shoulders, lover's tender hand in mine,

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h52 14.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 339

You whipped and snarled when I said I wanted you; caught in eddies and ripples and folds of time and choice: unable and unwilling, willing yet unable.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 22h51 13.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 338

Two coconut cookies, twenty minutes to midnight, one thought wanders in: no one will know — not even you — if I sleep without brushing my teeth.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h34 10.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 337

These days, magic is spelled T-E-C- H-N-O-L-O-G- Y; but Juliet was right: you bundle your words in an invisible zap, and still, they smell as sweet.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h23 8.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 336

Sometimes, my mouth is filled with startles and steepings of new savours, and I am fortunate enough to soak in them and settle.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h15 7.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

[nº 335] rhyme time

dime slime brine sign sane gain tame flame gang pang lung bung bug fug tongue rung dang bang same game main lane shine fine sublime crime

Timothy Joko-Veltman 0h32 6.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 334

I fumbled my poems and they fell between the bars of the rainwater drain, so instead, I wrote this; meaningful, profound, clever, and light, poetry, but not.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h16 4.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

[nº 333] 48 Words

bland eccentric pathetic immune capricious delectable stable tendentious manual narcotic belittle speedometer castration expulsion pernicious mammalian dependent satirical candour fellatio harangue gestation surpassingly blueberry ephemeral throughout galactic destroyer perversion entertainment radial perfection wheedling beggarly aphrodisiac martial compendium substantial barbaric insidious flocculant mendacious corpulent ecliptic randy speculation thermometer rhyme

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h59 3.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 332

An angel took me by the eyes but held on only for an hour;

like the devil, you've got my soul tucked behind your ear.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 1h30 3.9.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 330

I forgot to count the push-ups, and now my biceps feel like orange Tang.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h46 31.8.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 329

I spend my day anticipating all the things I'm going to say to you.

Then you open your mouth and each syllable washes them all away.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h24 30.8.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 328

Dormi, seu cobertor perto do peito, mas o calor era todo meu.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 0h17 30.8.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 327

In the bathroom, spitting blood and phlegm and toothpaste foam —

alone, I look closely, put my finger in it —

above the door, a spider, waiting to see what’s next.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 23h44 28.8.17 Brasília, Brasil

[subtlebustle]

nº 326

Dinner, a movie, a quiet hour with a book — still the crickets call.

Timothy Joko-Veltman 22h13 27.8.17 Brasília, Brasil