The First Steps

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Conversation with Mad King Seth of the Hotel Rotor Auto- Max Wolf Valerio 8-21-9-8/98

Opera - never got me going.

I have tried to listen to it but it doesn't fit into my ears.

I think possibly they are too long or
too square or-

that a rotund object juts
above
my
sweltering


aversive

fresh and

indiscrete tingling weight

and wiggle
haunted POSITIONS

I want to know. I have a question for you.
This thing
gets me into trouble.

I wish that I could understand the weight of glass on my fingers in dreams. The way my head
grows so long and opens up the roof with a stabbing crackling force.

I wish I could understand why
meaning is so important at all.

How I manage to escape- barely, from all sorts of trouble.

The selfish way that I act in my night walks, slipping out the door and
into a long limousine and cranking up my stereo and
having a damn good time.

I am
after all
the hard criminal
with a motorcycle dragon
I love to dawdle over faces of people
who enjoy balloons and ice.
I draw their bodies on the black velvet screen and wash bright colors over my face in the morning while
rolling flat stars stream like white cars over
the tight night lines

I am a net of
telecommunications
numbers and data infractions
I am mad king Seth sleuth of
the sliding tiger
the enemy
in a Mexican roll of coins and car ornaments

still in the soft morning counting dream animals -

Walking into the Crossroads


a black line crosses the alley

behind my back
a long, thin spoon bends
a wand
into clever and elite
proportions


tuning fork emissions
force sounds
octaves below
deep wounds

glands retreat and
bay



Max Wolf Valerio
July 11-2000
rev. Aug - 3- 2002