Semakin Kaumenjauh, Semakin Kumendekat*

yah tentu, ive got more grudges
than lonely high court judges,
tapi tahu nggak kamu,
i am two people
both of them you dont know
and you dont want to
memang semakin kau menjauh
aku akan semakin membabi buta
menggoogle namamu
sudah 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Next sekarang
kenapa kau umbar pesonamu ke technorati
sementara dalam kamar kau hambar seperti peti mati ?



* singalong dengan primavega

life in pastiche, its fantastisch ! #1

DONALD 
BARTHELME


ONE
STORY

MS D NAKOVA’s milk-white Russian cheek blushed red broken maps of Australia everytime she took me to bed. The sandstone walls of her basement apartment coughed up dust and the red flush moved to the tip of her hooked nose, transported by the IGA brand tissues she wiped her allergy-borne mucus with. She read until she fell asleep, or until her nose ran two unstoppable lines of salty water and then she could not stand it anymore. She would turn off the naked bulb of her reading lamp, blow her nose in a final, violent hmmmpf! and put on her silk SARS mask to go to bed.

MS D NAKOVA liked my stories; she would wake up at six, listen to the trap-trap-ing of horses and carts training for the afternoon races at the hard sand track next to her house and then she would read some more. She liked Conversations With Goethe and The Genius, my sillier stories, because they made her laugh and forget about her runny nose. But after three days she decided a funny man would not make her happy.

On the night of the third day MS D NAKOVA came home at two o’clock, giggling and smelling of sweet vodka drink. She introduced me to MR M JOHANI, a brown man with a foot-high Elvis quiff on his square head. He said it was really a Morrissey hair and told MS D NAKOVA that he too had read, and liked, Conversations With Goethe. He said this after running his eyes quickly up and down my Contents page when MS D NAKOVA went to the bathroom and he saw the faint Nike swoosh of pencil tick next to the title. MS D NAKOVA was pleased; she told MR M JOHANI how she liked boys who read and how cute he was with his Morrissey quiff and do you want to go to bed now.

In the morning MS D NAKOVA made weak white tea for herself and strong black tea with no sugar for her new lover. They sat in bed under the naked bulb and drank from MS D NAKOVA’s mismatched Target teacups. They read Conversations With Goethe together, he making up bad German accent for the direct quotes and she covering her nose and mouth with the fluffy edge of her Bonds pillow when she laughed. “You’re funny,” she said.

I knew by the morning’s end MS D NAKOVA would no longer want me in the house. That was five hours ago. Now I am standing with my back to to the world and MS D NAKOVA’s Adult Self-Check Receipt hidden inside the accidental pocket of my front sleeve. It says DUE DATE: 05/03/2001 in red ink. The electronic calendar on the wall says 5 MAR in big black letters. She had never done this before. I was returned on time.

everyone else has had more sex than me ooo ooo

i was walking along a canal in 2003 and i saw a poster for 'morrissey live in concert' plastered at the back of a gondola, and that was the first time i realised 'live' is just evil spelled backwards.

i was reading badai pasti berlalu two weeks ago and i got to page 343 and i thought yes, but when?

i was listening to sandie shaw the other day, her singing a song morrissey wrote for her 'please help the cause against loneliness', and i was thinking the song was released in 1988, how much money has she raised by now?

i was in the moshpit at a flaming lips concert the soft bulletin tour with grown men and women in bunny suits balloons unlimited supply of acid and i was thinking the mere concept of this spectacle is too heavy for superman to lift.

i was on top of monas one day and i looked out towards the direction of your house and i thought if could still see the curvature of the earth then at least that means i have not grown too disillusioned with life. yet.

i was listening to the smiths' asleep and i was thinking this song is not funny like all the others, 'there is a better place, there must be ...', really, moz?

i was reading rimbaud one morning and i thought perhaps if you never told me that poets only earn 3000 dollars a year (if that!) i would never have left you to become one.

well it's not like now you're sending me your hardened regards when once you sent me love, tapiii-

your love will always be with me.

but you won't.

Verse, verse, no chorus, middle-eighth break (reprise)

du du du
           du du
du du
       du du
du du
    du du
du du

du du

semakin lama semakin susah menemuimu
di antara segala macam hiper-keisengan kota ini
bayangkan beratnya menahan godaan
memesan mozza whopper dan curly cries
bayangkan susahnya tidak mencari-cari kelucuan
pada baliho the kingdom dengan jennifer garner yang kelihatan seperti edward said

mmm-a-l is this too personal?

duluakuseringmelihatmudisepanjangjalancikiniraya
dengan pisau di pinggang dan frank o'hara
—lunch poems, edisi city lights
menyembul di kantong belakang celana khaki gombrongmu
kadang-kadang kau lemparkan pisau itu ke tengah jalan
dan ujungnya akan mencungkil sebongkah aspal
kadangkadangkadangkadangkadangkadangkal
-a kau coba paksakan membeli hotdog dan coklat malt
bersama hantu maïakovski dan segumpal awan di celana dalam
-mu

du
    du du
du du

du du
    du du
du du
    du du

du du

du du

this poem could be about you
this p-p-p-
             oem
could be about
            
             who

aku hanya bisa bergantung pada sekali-sekali
tersesat di sebuah restoran ye olde
di dalam ruangan famili yang kosong melompong
melihat ke pojok, dan:
kursi kayu tua berpunggung rotan
koyak-moyak

(seperti sebuah set film hantu
yang benar-benar dihantui
dan ditinggal (mati) semua kru)

kau meringkuk di atas kursi itu
mengambil ancang-ancang
menerkamku!

mmm-a-l
            is this
                too
                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                     phanta
                                                                                                                               smal?