High Lonesome

If I did have one of those Star Trek transporter things, it'd be set tonight for the Poetry Project, where Julian T. Brolaski's reading with Tao Lin. Julian's one of my earliest poet friends; our leaving the Bay at around the same time made me feel a little less bad about moving.

Julian's work blends studies in medieval rhyme, high lonesome ballads, and a fearless vernacular insouciance as if it were the most natural thing in the world for those elements to go together, in poetry or anywhere else. I don't know anyone doing anything quite like it. Plus if you go there might be yodelling.

Fuck Me Harder Sonnet 2

Fuck me harder, leave the haters behind
As you know I am a slut for leisure
Arrest me on the mountain top’s incline
For I’ve klepted when I ought to please your
Neglected epic skin, and pull your hair.
When the ladies call my pigtails prairie
Step in, honey, and set the gender fair
Put me in a suit and call me Mary,
Transcoping this girl’s grist or that girl’s scope.
Holy monogram, how you like to tease,
Tender cufflink, I’m hurting for the grope
That sets my alpha at its churlish ease.
So strap me to the bed and knife my garter
Until I’m screaming baby fuck me harder.

--Julian T. Brolaski