U, faggote by Nathan Masserang
outs are given to empty space. This is where shout outs belong, for the
emptiness to absorb. People feel emptiness in themselves all the time. Why not
just acknowledge it and dedicate an entire chapbook to the proceedings? Happy
that Nathan recognizes emptiness. Emptiness is a necessary impulse in modern
life, distributed for free on the internet in PDF format.
bed music is an important choice for anybody. To really set the dead mood
requires something epic and grand. Most pick Post-Rock. While this makes sense
it is a little overused. People who pick happy music do well. Slowcore is
another long-ignored genre. Harsh, abrasive noise bands are a good pick as
is everything to a special one. All he wants is to be dead next to somebody.
Sleeping is what this is generally called. TVs still exist apparently. Laptops
are the new TVs. They require more work but interact more. What he wants is for
someone to share bitterness with, to complain with company. Misery needs
company. Misery populates apartment buildings and pays rent on the first of
every day. This is life.
dog needs another dog. Suburbs are full of dog owners. In the suburbs people
need dogs to convince themselves that they are doing well. When they pet each
other’s dogs it is to convince them that having a dog is a good thing. It is a
cycle of dog love dog. How do the suburbs even exist anymore? Suburb are the
worst combination, like a combination Pizza Hut / Taco Bell on 80 x 100 plots
portrait of the poet as a pornographer appears. All art is pornography anyway
so this makes sense. Nathan arrives on America’s shores with a sense of civic
duty. Every year America loses more and more pornographers to age, boredom and
boardrooms. Once someone’s done everything and everyone that’s out there to be
done, working in a cubicle or an office sounds pretty grand. Honestly cubicles
can be beautiful Zen things.
is a huge part of music. Sounds decay all the time. Crescendos, swan songs,
etc. music is a tough world. Singing along to the top 40 hits is perhaps the
emptiest, least fulfilling thing anybody could do with their life. When the
headphones are on with the volume loud enough it doesn’t matter. People can
sing to the heavens if they never have to hear themselves.
note ends it. Nathan states his belief that skiing hurts. Mountains probably
hate the snot out of skiers. This is the ending however, the downward slope
with an upward trajectory. Nathan continues his craft, mixing Macro with Tweet
with pieces of poems.