romantic avenues

7/31/2019 Romantic Avenues

1/12

ROMANTIC AVENUES+ other poems

ADAM WILSON


2/12


3/12

I. Prufrock (The Snowman From Up North, take 1)

I really understand that I'm excited:

a smart bomb that goes offto loud music loudly;so frequent and so cold.

Hey, I appreciate it.The history that kills the talk,researching a link between boredom and a3 speed bicycle with you.

Diagnostics and proofs,Im terrible at learning that.I've sinned in original syntax.Yeah, you were probably rightto lock in on the Canadian aspect.

OK; I'll be that thing,that cold machine.Punchcard pedantry,A strain against the freedomA test; A Turing test,Turing to turnto turn to turnto turn to turn

to turn to turnto turn to turn.

Some edges;freezing and unreal.A winter of soullost in some summerby the sun.


4/12

II. Prufrock (I Have Charlie Brown Syndrome)

My wall is elbow high and red for blue blankets.

The mantle of Atlas is now ponderous on the wall.

Interrogative: if its this one:If it's like 44 of the Brothers K.Ive always wanted to ask the King:Anybody making good records again?

I love the love you keep; how it feels big.

I think these lines are in original syntax.I had to explain it that way just to make sense.I miss this feeling that returns unreturned. (unphatic)

Are you looking for me? I can't tell.I think youre drawing lines in the water.Mad Libs for my girl.

Talk is because it is;with coaster brakes and maximum coldness.

Waiting waiting waiting.Nothing to begin;the contours rust.

Oxidizing leaves me

red faced andfingerprinted.


5/12

III: India Lima Oscar Vector Echo Yankee Oscar Uniform

Lady,

you're a portable scorpion farm, you worry.No joke: youre notso dont jump from the thing tomorrow!

Don't you worry,a crumpling inner collapse left me like this,So pardon my last few years.

And I say I OWE YOU SO MUCH.(you left me like this)

Sometimes I think humans lovethe new culture and its events.How does it entertain?Oh wow, isn't that the mystery?

Pardon me, Im pretty ordinary looking.I asked her out. No. No worries.Apparently I'm hugging the academy,Finding myself burdened with a sad syntax.

Don't I know about hiding your face from the best;I should have probably followed money,

you should have been followed by love.


6/12

IV: Prufrock (Meridian: Uh Oh, Awkward Moment With You)

The next day:

Last night was fun,I apologize for my chattery teeth.I apologize for being mea guy who played the good old daysto a pedantic lexophile in her underpantsI feel good and old fashioned while cuddling,sending post cards and showing no sexual prowess.Yet we're supposed to see.

What, were you awake?What were you thinking?Finishing that version of the discussionabout how its never not possible tofind someone whenever we don't care.

You're fine while living alone.I'm comfortable being a Radiant Heart.

The lesson deep in anything is Loveand a sense that its practiced by intuition...meanwhile, my life is collapsing manageably.


7/12

V: Apologeology: I Can Do Without The Bedrock/Prufrock

Lady,

its nice if you dream about being pre-programmedfor meeting single dudes.(a portable scorpion farm)I feel the same way about failed loves at dinner.

Don't be divisible by 6s (hexed, as it were).So ones, so zeroes.Isn't it hard?

I'll posit: its a zen-like clarity of our obsession.btw,that was a gold staron the graph of the experimentthat I am infinitely

jealous of. (ongoing)

Oh, weird. My body decided I'm always fighting off sleep.and sometimes I apologize for standing up.Dont I generate even small amount of humour?

If you won't be in my myththen you wont be in my reality.My real keeps cutting out.I experiment, I dream in jest

You're a rare thing in this townand Id bet on you again.

Now I feel like a robot powered by the promise 5pm.But you can call me, Ill be around,Just in case he doesn't get that youre great.Theres no call-up Id refuse, lady.


8/12

VI: Prufrock (In French, You Sing About It)

Life is better backwards

so says Kierkegaard.An amen,A hallelujah,and some loves last that never were.

I felt sad at 4am,How its getting beautiful here.I think of you a lot because

youre the thing.

Oh yeah, let's do that.That sounds AMAZING.Who else is down?And do they love your arms?


9/12

On The Dreamlife Of The Apiarist

The domain of the beekeeper

is productivity perfected;drones in their combs,a busy, wordless lifewhere love lies in the danceand pollen is perfume.

On The Dreamlife Of The Pornographer

A sturdy deadbolt

A white front doorA room with nobodyTo witness the repose.

A little leftover pastaA salad of tomato, spinachA comfortable sofaTo lose herself in TV.

A moment at the sinkA glance at what they seeA stab at the lightswitchTo a bed never shared.


10/12

On The Dreamlife Of The American Dream

You were Jack Ruby

and my heart was Lee Harvey.

And where was love?She was wearing pink Chanel,holding the fragments of hopein her hands.


11/12


12/12

Photos + Design: Adam Wilson

Apologies: Warhol Museum

Twitter: @theleanover

Made in Edmonton, 2011; 2012.

romantic avenues

Documents