#caconrad

[panicdriveshumanherds]

excerpt from "While Standing in Line for Death" by CAConrad (2017)

[neverclekked]

CAConrad, from First Light: 88 Frequencies

[librarycards]

CAConrad

[cursedkoolaid]

Well, you have to be brave before you can be good.

(Brian K Vaughan Saga Volume 4)

My Wicked Wicked Ways by Sandra Cisneros; Wandering by Hermann Hesse; Ecodeviance: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness by CAConrad; Saga Volumes 2-4 by Brian K Vaughan; Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi; Destroy Me by Tahereh Mafi

[proustian-dream]

Wash a penny, rinse it, slip it under your tongue and walk out the door. Copper is the metal of Aphrodite, never ever forget this, never, don't forget it, ever. Drink a little orange juice outside and let some of the juice rest in your mouth with the penny. Oranges are the fruit of Aphrodite, and she is the goddess of Love, but not fidelity. Go somewhere outside, go, get going with your penny and juice. Where do you want to sit? Find it, and sit there. What is the best Love you've ever had in this world? Be quiet while thinking about that Love. If someone comes along and starts talking, quietly shoo them away, you're busy, you're a poet with a penny in your mouth, idle chit chat is not your friend. Be quiet so quiet, let the very sounds of that Love be heard in your bones. After a little while take the penny out of your mouth and place it on the top of your head. Balance it there and sit still a little while, for you are now moving your own forces quietly about in your stillness. Now get your pen and paper and write about POVERTY, write line after line about starvation and deprivation from the voice of one who has been Loved in this world.

CaConrad, (Soma)tic poetry exercises

[cherishedcheese]

book of frank // caconrad

[dk-thrive]

Poets can do whatever they want. … I started a practice of creating rituals to maintain a presence so that I could only be where I was.

—CAConrad, "While Standing in Line for Death" (Wave Books, 2017)

[rustbeltjessie]

The Queer Voice: Reparative Poetry Rituals &… | Poetry Foundation

for Michelle Tea “Who we are when we are not love has always caused us shame.” --Akilah Oliver “Touch me. / We’ll become less one.” --TC Tol

“Our glitter covers the world!” This is Henry Ruschmann’s slogan, our triumphant inventor of modern glitter. Plastic, metal, grind it up, keep it in your shirt pocket in case you walk by a very sad place, then sprinkle a little red and purple with a touch of gold. Glitter will turn any unhappy thing around. Let me enter the murder scene after they have taken fingerprints, hair samples and photos of bloody boot prints, I can dust the carnage with a shimmering cobalt blue mixed with silver and emerald green. Glitter is not enabling denial of the world’s pain but instead helps us endure the bleak results of those who are in denial of how we need one another. If you have a scar or bent nose that has become the center of your life trust me when I say own it and apply glitter blush directly, immediately. Before you die join me in loving our flesh, loving our lives. Our attempts at living beyond the judgments of others do not always work, but it is worth a try. I am not much for religion, but I would follow The Ruschmann Glitter Cult. There would be a very shiny commune for us with edible glitter in every cocktail and plate of food, glitter flowing through us at all times. After a night of prodigious glitter ingestion the toilets at The Ruschmann Temple would sparkle like no other toilets; the dirtier they get the more glamorous they become.