D. B. DEVILLIERS

Poetry

Guest Writer: D.B. Devilliers “The Only Good Poet is a Dead One, and I am Not That”

Sudden Denouement Collective

1960s-fashion
yes hello it’s a pleasure I’d say except
look where we are
and how the fuck did I get here
guess that speaks to the reason why I
am here
you too huh
same old story why tell it
differs largely just in names dates other such
uninteresting particulars it’s
an impact and oh yeah oh fuck yeah it’s
happening here we go it’s another
ethanol-fueled escapade a jet ride to
oblivion hard landing read: a crash
see you don’t get to survive when you
strike at five hundred and thirty five
miles per hour so bail bail bail
before the hard stop before the zero
what’s the co-pay on a parachute
a question I didn’t ask when I saw the
ground racing up at me
oh shit I went and did it again
no more job no more girl just this
bottle and me
fickle companions we are
and…

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If I Liked Me Better I Bet I Wouldn’t Write So Much

I want to be loved so bad
and I am
let it be enough
and I want to be liked so bad
and I am
let it be enough
I just don’t know why anyone would
let me be enough
let me really believe it
I don’t know why anyone would
and maybe I can be something more than confused
and maybe then my father won’t have to take some sunny day to
bury me
maybe we’re all gonna go to college and we’re
all gonna be doctors and lawyers and we’re
all gonna die real slow and by the time we
get to the heaven we dreamed about as kids we’re
all too busted up and broken to recognize it
and anyway I guess it isn’t really there so that’s a
silly line of reasoning
if you get to live long enough do you get to reimagine it
I hope I hope I really really hope I
really really hope so
thanks god that’s all I’ve got.

 

Personal note: things are much improving.

 

This Did Not Happen

if you get to know why and it’s because
a man had a couple too many if it’s because
he didn’t call a taxi or a friend and
his girlfriend just left him and the transfer
case took your face yeah it was a bad one
it was a bad one
what do people do after that
how does anyone
how does anyone

Some Things Are Important To Me And You’re One Of Them

is there any saving me
I hope so
long countdown to finding out what we are
what we always knew
which is fucked.

To The Woman Who Drove Me Home, Or Most Of The Way Anyway

there was an impact and I woke up and
there we were
way off the side of state route xxx
I wasn’t driving
that doesn’t fit well poetically but I feel like I have to say it
you drove me home and I was bleeding still
I am as I write this and I thank god that you were
there to drive me three quarters of a
mile up the road and I walked it the rest bag
on back going to alaska aren’t we and
you’re a saint
maybe not canonized but that’s the fault of the catholic church
and not yours.

How To Go To Work/The Security Standards In Heaven Are Pretty Lax

you get drunk pass out you suffer from
menial problems you become
enraged at the broken dryer and
now you don’t have clothes to wear to work
you wear them anyway gotta have a job
your hands and feet tingle from a lack of
circulation this is a new development you
wonder from which poor decision this has most
probably stemmed
you drive in anyway
your shaky fingers stumble to punch in but you do and
you know from which poor decision exactly this
problem has stemmed
condition upgraded to functional
or downgraded as the case may be
you stand there and you have nothing to say
and hello good morning how are you
you say hello and good morning anyway and I am uh
good thanks how about you
it’s one of those days isn’t it
why yes it is except no one says it and you never say it can’t
show weakness now and even though you don’t know why and
even though you always are
and this was gonna be a happy poem but I guess
life isn’t that
but hell I ain’t dead yet
and when I am I’m gonna
stand up tall
take a good pull
draw down on Saint Peter
right there outside of paradise and
kick the fucking door in.

Let’s Go Swimming Together Forever

And I’ll run run run away quit my job not
even quit go on break drive off again never call I’ll
do it again and again why doesn’t this all fit
together why can’t I make it fit why doesn’t
it fit what the fuck is wrong with me does it
fit anyone or do we all just kind of go
on unfitting and some people either stop
noticing or always or sometimes notice and just deal with
it but why can’t I just do that why am I always
thinking about it the unfitting maladjustment guess
given my decision making I’m not doing myself any
favors and but I can’t help but think somewhere there
must be some individual specimen of primitive
organism recently evolved to breathe air that gets
tired of breathing air and walks back into the ocean
and that’s more me than I am but here I am
still breathing air.

Transit/Stasis

Right time wrong place write it why not
it’s only ink paper and time you’re the
only one who has to know if that’s how you want it
but no that’s not in your nature you crave the
attention much as you hate that
you need it as much as you hate the
very notion of a need for attention in
anyone but write it write it out parse it learn something
about yourself this is how you do it you
introverted exhibitionist you’re a
curious piece of work aren’t you
curious enough you hope but enough for what
for money? recognition? to escape death?
to understand? to understand what
to finally understand what the fuck it is you want?
or rather to finally just hurry up and want anything more than
one more drink to want anything
more than mere escape
because you can’t do that no one can and your efforts
will kill you and that’s not escape
because time time time it passes it
runs out that’s what it does it’s
cirrhosis a bad wreck a short rope the end of time
but wasn’t faulkner a drunk too yeah but wasn’t he also a
miserable son of a bitch and if all you had to do to
create great work was suffer and be miserable
would you do it if you could make that choice
but it doesn’t work that way the work comes second and
you suffer anyway and most of us aren’t lucky enough
good enough whatever to create much of anything
so now you’ve got something written down to
remember it by but it’s transient transitory transit
transition into another sentence what’s the word thought phrase page
word thought thought word salad this long forgetting o fallibility
of memory of all things but maybe if you really write it you’ll
know yourself a little better afterwards but out of ink paper and time you’re
running out of one and you need all three to do the thing
or four if you count actually having something to
say but who has that dostoyevsky? kant? probably they did but
who knows after all what the fuck did socrates know about himself anyway
did alexander know himself well enough to know that the
typhus would kill him does god know he’s a kid holding a
magnifying glass to an anthill on a sunny day do you figure
pol pot knew himself or bin laden or the
buildings or the planes or the murdered
millions and all the time ravels
out and you into it and
it into you and the
page too.

A Computer Curated Several Advertisements Just For Me

Season’s greetings I’m a content creator I create content and
I influence that’s right I’m
an influencer too
For bookings, contact: …
I create content
I influence
that’s right my influence is grown on a
server farm in another hemisphere
it’s fake influence but pretend pretend pretend with me
that’s where the content’s used as a fertilizer
its sole productive purpose
the waste products excreted by my mind, like this here
writing as a psychic eliminatory process
piped around in fiber optics
internet as a sewage pipe that flows really really fast
works better fertilizing than cow shit and yes it’s vegan it’s
gluten free it’s non gmo one
hundred percent certified content
potentially useful in the hobbyist manufacture of
high explosives been done before but
see now that’s off label use
shouldn’t do that, and well anyway let’s get to it
I’d like you to eat my content
now look here it’s real tasty got some zest to it don’t you
want to eat my content I’ll nuke a box of frozen
content for dinner tonight yeah
yeah why don’t we do that and while it
spins and machine whirs science heating
we can argue for instance about what words don’t
mean over dinner too why not why don’t we
argue have a nice topical argument good English manners
talk the weather argue the climate over some unevenly
heated content fresh from the microwave it’ll be
so very politic how terribly clever we are we can
split the brick cleaner it’s a stellar pairing why don’t we
trade swigs back and forth no need for glasses til we
choke in blood each of us trying to say
you’re not drowning I am
only producing pained spluttering monosyllables
interspersed frequently with hindbrain gurgling, indecipherable
but that’s a rather different manner of argument isn’t it because before
I didn’t believe in what I was saying anyway and
you didn’t believe in what you were saying and anyway
I didn’t think it really mattered you didn’t either and anyway
neither of us managed to change the other’s mind, unsurprising
and we were both wrong all along but at first at least we
sort of knew that but then we wound up accidentally
convincing ourselves we wanted to talk about
it and believe things and we wanted to
eat my content don’t you
don’t you.