what it is to be a loser

Last month, I got the incredible opportunity to perform in the Phillip Giambri’s excellently curated show, “The Loser Project”. Below is a video from the performance at Cornelia Street Cafe in NYC.

the heroic body

originally published by great weather for MEDIA

 

When I was twenty-six, I gave my body away. But also at nineteen. And maybe twelve. Details are unimportant and have already been documented through ripped skin and hollowed tongue, so instead, I’ll make a mix tape of the trauma:

  1. Do I Move You?—Nina Simone
  2. Another Lonely Day—Ben Harper
  3. Colorblind—Counting Crows
  4. La valse d’Amelie—Yann Tiersen
  5. Burning Bridges—Chris Purkea
  6. Cleaning Apartment—Clint Mansell
  7. Change of Address—Marina Marina
  8. Fjogur Piano—Sigur Ros
  9. February—Gregory Alan Isakov
  10. The Rip–Portishead
  11. Dumb—Nirvana
  12. I Bleed-Pixies
  13. Son’s Gonna Rise—Citizen Cope
  14. That Moon Song—Gregory Alan Isakov
  15. Wake Up—Arcade Fire
  16. Home Again—Michael Kiwanuka
  17. Red Dust—James Vincent McMorrow
  18. The Winner Is—Devotchka
  19. Remember Me as a Time of Day—Explosions in the Sky
  20. Breathe Me–Sia

&

I’ll alphabetically list colors that could create a collage bright enough to illustrate it:

  1. alabaster
  2. bloodied knee from fist fight
  3. cysts
  4. denim
  5. exercise on a body after thirty-six years of sporadic movement
  6. forgotten grapes left in backpack from a camping trip, found six months later
  7. guitar string—the unplucked one
  8. how can one really describe purple
  9. illiterate notebooks, smudged from the rain/ someone left the windows open so now all that is left to read is / mold
  10. january sky on a friday four hours before snowstorm
  11. krystal meth [sic]
  12. left wrist after the breakdown
  13. marzipan
  14. nest of loons
  15. orgasm (the kind that means something)
  16. pie crust—overbaked
  17. quetzal
  18. radish
  19. something similar to yellow, but more like rubberband
  20. the inside of her kiss
  21. umbilical chord left unsnipped until first birthday
  22. very sour cherries
  23. what suburban new jersey looks like when you are high
  24. x-girlfriend’s mole
  25. your biggest secret
  26. zest from pomelo

or

perhaps it is even more accurately documented in this transcript which traveled from public bathroom floor to underneath chuck taylors to my hands, raw from —-

X: It meant nothing.

Y: Only if nothing means the carpal tunnel syndrome of wounds.

X: Pardon?

Y: The numb. Knowing there is something there, waking up. Trying to yawn out of skin, but—

X: It can’t.

Y: Nothing means nothing anymore. Everything is found. Known. Cut-up into an argument.

X: But. But it can go away.

Y: Only if away means a permanent disconnection of hypnotized raw. The uncooked symbolism of everything that has been taken.

X: Or given—

Y: Yes…away.

tonight!!! queer art organics!!

Come to Dixon Place at 161 Chrystie Street in NYC for some magnificent poetry and storytelling.

7-8:30pm FREE!!!!

(starts promptly at 7:30pm)

Queer Art Organics

poetry, spoken word, storytelling, comedy, performance art…..

 

With the incredible features:

imgres

In need of music? Poetry? Come to Brooklyn for Art Organics Brunch!

Celebrate the LAST day of January with some incredible music and poems at Branded Saloon in Brooklyn.

Sunday, January 31st from 1-4pm, head to 603 Vanderbilt Avenue for some delicious brunch.

Head toward the back, grab a seat and listen to the incredible talents of:

Yeti

The Giga Herbs

Enrico Arcaro

Daniel Dissinger

& I’ll read a few poems too.

$15 for great food and to support this awesome venue that supports local talented talent.

postulation (a performance of two)

Revisiting a performance from two summers ago with the great, great Trae Durica for Nerve Lantern.

This is about love. About lovers. About jumping off the ledge of a body. Saying what you need to say even when the one who needs to hear it is no longer listening.

change of address

Sometimes we need to look back and hear the music of days ago to remind ourselves of the music and language still inside us.

Here is a collaboration I did with the marvelously enchanting Marina Marina:

released July 29, 2013
Lyrics
Kazim:
I’m moving again.change of address, new route.another attempt at peace.this residence i leave now is cracked. an old man once asked me “where is the place i call home”.i couldn’t help to say “my body, my body is my home”.but even as i spoke this i knew it not to be true…light splash out
secretly
swelling mouth
spills with ease
out of reach
so sink me
rush on by
city seize
yelling
“please more
handsome trees”
skip your rent
for more greenery.

Breathe, quiet leaves.
Fire, on the beach.

notice boards
scribbles sheets
heave and sigh
coffee’s weak
where to sleep?
come to me
dream of
greenery
have me please
on my knees to
pick berries
with a breeze

Breathe, quiet leaves.
Fire, on the beach.

The moon last night pushed out through a curtain of clouds and called out to me “REMAIN”.i breathed in it’s romantic shadows and fierce eye contact.this lover changes shapes each night but it never tells me to go away.

uproot songs
full of need
plant my bags
like a seed
complicate
human life
judge my face
not with sight.
please send greenery,
send greenery.

I travel beneath the plaster of earth in this construction site.and, a door opens, and birds, and…