alfie lee writing

2011-11-12T07:11:00.001-08:00

hello ginnie

in bangkok it takes us
seven minutes to cross the road
and the buses stop half the way
and you get off and get up
another bus or just follow
whatever everybody else is doing

no one speaks English unless they need you

the pavements are deserts the brooms sweep up dustclouds

remember the elephant on the road in the jam
it reached out its trunk one
                                      foot on the curb
and sniffed at the vendor with the cartful of fruits
there were no peanuts nor bananas (waitaminute        monkeys
like bananas elephants hate rats and have excellent memories)

anyway
          it s not because of the elephant that i m late be
      cause i fell asleep dreaming on the bus you were beside me
i took my time

                                               ←                →

2011-11-12T07:09:00.001-08:00

the thing

you accuse me of
everything points to what
i say i m not
obsolete
you d think these days
everytime i turn around i think i m
copy paste everytime i turn around i think i m
only talk
do you a
live
remember that day i told you
i'm pretty smart aren t i
pride

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2011-11-12T07:05:00.000-08:00

am put at

i

on

what can

i hurt this bump

there where was

i

can t

see there

it when

they pulled

me to saw

block

they

waited they

i knew

was gone

i feel this

sharp

clear

summer

day could swallow

whole

like

lie

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2011-11-03T17:35:00.000-07:00

prospect of/a drowning

discombobulate fin and snorkel
briny breath apparatus
conceit/i concede
it was to mean true too be to

how to see the fishes like that?
scudding sudden schools
exploding rings
rolling water/skipping stones

perpetual waves weight
upset me and bait and
lure underfoot proves
my person most precarious

there goes the sun cast
sea tenebrous roil
spooled and unknowable
as you are

aye! come on in
it’s no fun alone swimming
what if i see a big one/who am i
to show it to?

who will believe me? oh
waitwaitwait
i see/i think
something

~

*note to "prospect of/a drowning"

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2011-11-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

note to prospect of/a drowning

The title is a take on Singaporean poet Lee Tzu Pheng's title "Prospect of a Drowning" for her poem and her 1980 collection of poetry.

~

back to poem

2011-11-03T17:18:00.001-07:00

malice hurts

malice hurts
even as i turn
around (not looking it swings at me
bobbing his head
always looking down
nodding
like a young boxer to instru

malice hurts a
highly charged nothingness
excess which
cannot be captu

when i was a boy
she stood on the chair (next to the open and
i could not
recognize (even today when he raises) his
frightens me malice
hurts

frightens me malice
hurts

~

*note to "malice hurts"

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2011-11-03T17:17:00.001-07:00

note to malice hurts

The section: "bobbing his head/always looking down/nodding/like a young boxer to instructions" is taken from Jack Kerouac's On the Road.
It's Sal Paradise describing Dean Moriarty near the beginning of the novel.
I thought it described perfectly something i had a habit of doing.

~

back to poem

2011-11-03T17:13:00.001-07:00

point of a rival

that rain was falling when their train pulled into the station.
they made their way in the crowd.
it was dark they could not see anything.
across water there were sounds of foghorns.
they took a cab they haggled down to six dollars.
the car was small.
that was a very small car.
they were a lot of restless looking men hanging around the lobby of their hotel.
the room was on the top fifth floor.
they could see the lights of the harbor from their windows.
that and bridge.
they door-knobbed a do not disturb.
they were tired and slept right after their bath.

they arrived back aching.
the air condition on the train was cold.
there abandoned their plan to walk to their hotel.
their cab driver was grumpy.
roadside hawkers were setting up those stalls.
the light was forever.
that and some.
this receptionist spoke very loudly.
or maybe it was because they were very tired.
or just maybe it was because they were very tired.
they came back down and switched to a deluxe room.
this a bathtub the want.
a window looked out onto these faded red roofs of Chinatown.
there swallows the sky.
in the hurry to get to work everyone ignored their lights.

they were nervous and irritated when day arrived.
that kid running up and down the aisle did not fall and break those teeth.
the wish.
german couple backpacks the small carrier this leather attaché.
their man at the counter simply waved at there passports.
noisy fans blew their scent in this direction of the dog.
through the crowd they saw her family sitting at a table at that other coffee shop.
they all seemed this happy.
they gave him the lift to a train station where he took this train home.
she came to a door on this third ring.

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2011-10-23T14:28:00.001-07:00

wreck

line a proper subject

depth charge

turn of tide, wait for no man,

drop anchor on a while, dry suits, haul ass,

seal, blubber, neoprene

of the sun in the sea

displacement

tug and weight and principle, stones

reflex, tether, slack, suspicions pause

you have not much time truth be told

trail the plumb line

torch light pictographs

dot the eyes tip the scales rewind

curiosity move move

galleon side formaldehyde

crustaceans lot encrust

sudden octopi

scene of crime

nightmares hatched inside

haddocks storm the bow

darkness where the stern portside

thought bubbles thought i

close quarters

don't think twice

bloom

drowning man do not cry

everything you think you think is a lie

leave plenty of time

clause

any fact

slow climb

impossible

bottle

undeny

← →

2011-10-21T13:59:00.000-07:00

picture by my bedside

MY SUNSHINE

                                                      sky turned white by
                                                 mini-lab processing

                    trees
                                        trees                                                                   sky

                              trees
                                                         ginnie
                                    green             smiling                              trees
                                 (dark)               in a                               green
                                                      white t-shirt
          trees                                        hands
                                         fire           in
                                           hydrant   jeans
                                                     pocket
                                        yellow  (she was on holiday with
                                  of course      her family she didn't call
                     grass                               five whole days)    grassgrass
green                     grass

                                               ←                →

2011-10-21T13:57:00.000-07:00

There is no room for fat people in pictures of love-making

For the rocking of the bed, legs creaking
For there being no space and a lot of sweat
For there being the obscenity of too much flesh exposed
Too much slapping together of flab
Too much effort
For just too much

They roll against each other
He rumbles on top of her almost keeling
He lies atop of her
A splayed-out boar on an anthill
The carrying off of flesh
O balloons of helium freedom!
O liposuction of two wills!

← →

2011-10-21T13:53:00.000-07:00

41/46

Your shoulders shrink with the weight
You never need carry.
You push against the pedal. Gently.
The sun glints off the silver. The wind
Clings to your hair for life.
No cigarette will light now, you think,
Not even on your lips;
My name is James Dean, you think,
The words stumble past your lips.
Still catches me,
Quickturn beast,
Blood blood blood.

← →

2011-10-21T13:49:00.001-07:00

g.k.

funny looking man with his kid looking funny on the mrt
played the drums when he was young
on her wedding night she thought all brides must be miserable
it's cool to wear maroon lipstick
pulau ubin is spiritually uplifting
twenty six hours of non-stop tv
nowadays everybody has a swatch
she did not realize she was a hypocrite
the boy looks out the window and says stirring road
there is a woman with a purple balloon
he's been gone for ten years now and sometimes i miss him
they won a trip to bali for two
sorry we're out of stock but we do deliveries
i'm a bad writer because i'm ugly
he stopped leaned over and vomited
i guess i'll just have to learn to motivate myself
is that it
i wonder if the guy had any chance at all
fortunately the two cyclists escaped with only minor injuries
i only realized in my youth when i saw him destroy the plane in anger
sorry we made a mistake it wasn't your sister
i think he felt he never had a father
can you smell it we're sitting too close to the dump
i try not to sleep on the train there's so much going on
my granddad died of a burst aorta it was the size of a man's fist
can you tape it i don't want to miss anything
i saw his wife a few days ago but she act blur
he was crying when he realized suddenly he was going to die

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2011-10-19T10:19:00.001-07:00

R&R

HERE'S one way of saying
the place was OPEN when we arrived
they sat behind the glass LOOKING at nothing in particular
someONE smiled and blushed LIKE a girl
the place had no smell under the PURPLE light

here's ANOTHER
they DID NOT LOOK like they were enjoying themselves
under the make up pimples
the ORANGE juice was cheap
in the corner was a middle eastern MAN with a moustache and A GIGGLING girl in his hand

nightfall takes you by surprise
in the dark once voices walked by on the road
sometimes there were bushfires woodsmoke full of stars
i fell asleep on a rock with the moon in my eyes

on the bus out the villages and towns were stories
there was always room on the sidewalks and corners
we talked we were tired and homesick
the boyscout looked hard then decided to WAVE with his stick

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2011-10-19T10:18:00.000-07:00

                                                   photo of my mother her head to one side

you are not responsible.

                                                                         DAYLIGHT.

Is there no end to this frustration.

What are you? always.

Balanced with silence. on 2 stools.

just let me!

strong jaw straight hair.

                                                             DAY NOT LIGHT. but. air.

                                                               yellow & brown flowers.

                                                                          tv. surface.

                                                                          "that time"

                                                                 black & flowers. white.

                                                       sitting there with her head to one side.

                                               ←                →

2011-10-18T10:18:00.000-07:00

sometimes this place gets so hot you just want to give up

a swimmingpoolful
shoes from icetrays
cotton underwear (just before the

hole) only the driver and yourself              on an aircon bus
a cloud big enough if not

a cloud big enough if not
a remote controlled cloud that will shelter           shelter
                                                   you wherever you
go

a cool wet kiss
                                           just left the rim of an iced tea

full of blue waters
           sometimes
you and me
                  in bed heh

heh
splashing around how
was civilized possible then

"a time when there was no butter, no
fresh milk, no good quality meat and
no ice-cream to be had in the steamy
tropical cauldron of Singapore? A
time which came to an abrupt halt on
24 March 1905" -- though there were
still 18 years to wait
before that ice-cream appeared

full of blue waters

a swimmingpoolful

~

*note to "sometimes this place gets so hot you just want to give up"

                                               ←                →

2011-10-18T10:12:00.000-07:00

note to sometimes this place gets so hot you just want to give up

The passage:

"a time when there was no butter, no
fresh milk, no good quality meat and
no ice-cream to be had in the steamy
tropical cauldron of Singapore(?) A
time which came to an abrupt halt on
24 March 1905"

either wholly or in part, memory fails me, was taken from a book i had read on the history of Singapore.
Regrettably, due to careless note-keeping on my part, i am unable to cite the source.

~

back to poem

2011-10-18T10:09:00.001-07:00

chiangmai afternoon

we saw the sun sneak in the courtyard

tipping on toed socks bare

pedicab men talk talk talking

follows us with his eyes

turned to stone

close

on the corner

paddle-pop to colored tongue

school's out

men on pickup truck

steal

long with their minds

← →

2011-10-18T07:11:00.001-07:00

long distance

drops in on the phone
there's this truck out my window downstairs doing
a three point turn
East Germany is cold where she is is fine
in the back someone her brother flushes
there's no room at the end of the line
only a voice and the walks home
after the show in the dark and i
say when you leaving
when you coming back please
call the moment you get back
i'd like to know at least where you
are ok friend you take care
i'll send you his address i'm looking
on my desk
sometimes Mon doesn't say anything
so i ask
is my room too dark and
can you please pass me my cup

← →

2011-10-09T12:59:00.000-07:00

Early morning in a hotel room at a seaside resort

He sees the clouds sweep in
to touch the hill top full
with trees.

The glass must be cold because
it's touching the outside he
shivers to think but instead

hears her murmur behind
him as she turns over
kicking away the sheets.

He opens his mouth to speak
look the sky is down or
look that hill is reaching up.

She cannot hear because
he doesn't speak because
before the hill can touch

the sky it wants to reach
he is across the road
already already he is on the beach.

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2011-10-09T12:19:00.001-07:00

FOG
(stolen between the deaths of Doris and Heather
from D. Mazzucchelli and F. Miller)

DEAD.

FOOT-
STEPS--

--OUTSIDE.

GIVE IT UP, MANNY!
YOU CAN'T RUN--

--AND THE FOG
WON'T HIDE YOU…
NOT FROM ME!

CHEEZ…
WHO IS THAT?

PUT DOWN
THE GUN.

BLAM!

BLAM!

BLAM!

BLAM!

UNGPH...

THEN--

HERE HE IS… JUST LIKE
THE PHONE CALLER SAID.

WE BETTER GET
AN AMBULANCE.
FEEL'S LIKE HIS
JAW'S BROKEN.

AT THAT MOMENT--

R-RING!

← →

2011-10-09T12:13:00.000-07:00

a dream come true for

the host of millions
assume the sense these
truths as a stepping stone
phenomenon of Nature
whose right is founded
to give a meaning it had not
in thought so closely pressed a
capacity for heroic self-assertion
that i don't wish to have
any regrets in their persons being
good looking doesn't mean much
not by the value and worth of the objective
but like fate without cause or reason
suddenly like lightning

you always unbounded
confidence in you
will come forward freely and joyfully
make of every affliction
perform what has to be
performed same time
next week not for what you have
done but simply for what you are
to achieve by word
and with fear
of contradiction decide
there is nothing
i've wanted all my
life is about the passion of
what i do to be an actress and
since i was a child
express his total personality
authenticate his capacity for experience appear
on television

and he realized where she was that's
who i really will

← →

2011-10-08T07:52:00.001-07:00

saturday nite
    yvonne

you say no
then giggle asking
will i still write

for you? if
i runout
of GAZING AT

THE VAST BLUE OCEANS (spoken o
THE TURBULENT
WAVES so solemnly)

you will still
be as beautiful i
say
        yes! i
say yes!

                                               ←                →

2011-10-07T07:30:00.001-07:00

Gilbert

He sold vacuum cleaners, sold us ours,
top of the line at a steep discount.
When my mother offered to pay,
he brushed her off with a wave,

"C'mon, sis!" claiming it was overstock.
I think of him younger, behind his drums,
long hair, bell-bottoms, big specs, hard rock.
On and off he'd disappear, come back

months, a year, with his hair shone off.
But he pulled himself together that last time,
got straight, met a girl, got married,
bought a nice place, scanned the ads, was doing good.

How he busted the lock and window
latch to brace the 14th storey high
no one could explain. They said he
didn't have a scratch on him. Miraculous

was what it was. He was my mother's
favourite. We sat five nights folding gold
and made small talk. The last morning
we gathered anxious round the unsure moth.

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2011-10-06T14:34:00.000-07:00

A boy laments the loss of his girl...

She moves like fish
With the dexterity of the white gloved
Magician.
You think you hear

The rustling of the feathers
When the white dove appears
Before you.
Or the quick back jab

Of the muted rabbit,
Ears first out of the
Red-lined top hat.
Then it was no trick.

Now it achieves its true
Proportions. She's OK. Doing well.
Fine. It's really me. Mouth
Agape. Broken back. Slap.
Moving like fish.

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2011-10-06T08:20:00.001-07:00

river

the grainy choppy quality of
the tape,
young man river self-
pity that i hate
black jeans
converses conviction goes
the extra mile your
brain your nervous
system
try to make stuff happen
immediately known
christian slater
jägermeister, gentleman jack,
airplane
glue into her veins
wake up wake
up happiness takes a hold of his
face no,
first we fuck them, and then
the previous day,
he is incredible
river knuckles banging on the
sidewalk at,
mike, that we're still alive
and if i don't
i wasn't right

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2011-10-06T05:56:00.000-07:00

stolen

slipped
into
my house

bomb
tick
wolved

sheep
wrestle
conscious

slew me
where
i

mace
my
head

tourniquet
of
wake

← →

2011-10-05T06:47:00.001-07:00

In sooth

I recall
a pond.
Necklace of ice.

You saying
do
what you are

here to do.
Bone of my
bone. Flesh

of my
flesh. Wind
sear.

Space black.
Comet
insouciant.

← →

2011-10-04T09:43:00.001-07:00

Pornography

The framing of photographs.   She
appeared at   the   door in   hunza.
The eyes receive by far the most
spatial information.   It works for
me.     Pentax LX,    Kodak Gold,
1/2,000 sec.     Who    were    your
heroes?   He had been very polite
when      she     had     met      him.
Observation drawing and   foreign
travel    heighten    our    level    of
sensory   perception.    My mother
says don’t worry about love just
get married.    A one dimensional
force.      She    delighted    in   the
moment.   I was.   Indicate "echo"

lines    behind    its    trajectory.   I
scotch-taped   his   photograph   on
my bedroom wall.   Battery.   Each
perceives a slightly different image.
I'm so happy for you. The dialer is
then called back. Sunlight. All he
did   was   watch.       Theirs is   a
curvilinear culture.     They   also
found milk in his refrigerator. The
dot has no scale. Have no shame.
X. Of some diseases. The brain is
intolerant of ambiguity. Her older
brother. Sensuous event involving.
Escalation. Hearing in relation to
the   acoustic properties   of space.

Anyman by anywoman. He fiddled
with my breasts. Assume a central
axial   fulcrum.    I    heard   noises
through the walls.   The immediate
receptors:       skin,        membrane,
muscles.    It was so.   I undress.   I
came to work earlier than usual.
The ability to focus on only one
point at a time. Let's do a movie
together.       Speech      can       be
dangerous. Satisfied. You  know I
only want to be a machine.   Visual
alternative: solid or void. I look
for    the    door.    These    convey
credible   information    about   the

form of an object that could not
exist   outside.     Graphic.    We're
flexible.   Bend down.   This isn't
Shakespeare.         Apart        from
holograms,    stereoscopic    images
and   moving   pictures.   Today is
Tuesday.     I   don’t   like   to   be
touched.    Rachel called.   KY. A
glance is a reconstruction. All he
did was watch. People with quite
different motives. How much are
you    making?        Simultaneously
record a variety of angles of view
of the same object.   Farther objects
move less.    Space is wider than

possible.       I    undressed.       To
communicate            its           total
understanding. I don't think I can
see        you        tonight         dear.
Asymmetrical     balance      derives
from   equal    eye   attraction.   We
exchanged photographs.   We were
there   when    it    happened.    The
difference between the image that
enters    the   eye   and    the   same
image   as    reconstructed   by   the
brain.     You    cannot    recognize
anyone.   2.   The relative sameness
of elements.   How can they fuck in
front    of    so    many    strangers?

Works    against   the    illusion   of
depth.            She           screamed.
Interferences   to   stop   the    flow.
Infinitesimal adjustments to.   The
balance of our bodies. Who were
you?     The site.    I'd like to take a
Polaroid of your cock. The three
layers of perception.    Sat   at the
back.     Serialized   views.    Space
necessitates   an   increase.   Started
giggling. These quotes consist of
dialogue.   At the end of the day,
she tucks him in. I've never seen
you before.   Proximity.   Are the
sum of their parts. I have never

been happy. Touch is an important
aspect   of   our   understanding of
space. Going going gone. No, you
are using me. Directly related to
the growth of the new technology.
We all want something  beautiful.
The   resulting   fusion   of   vision
causes distortions. Can't you see?
Human feelings. Man I wish I was.
Matter.     Electricity.     Find   the
dominant message in   the   lower
left   sector.     Resist.    She's   not
coming.    Familiarity    breeds    a
jaded     and      causal     appraisal.

Motion.

← →

2011-10-02T11:09:00.001-07:00

offday

to shore. Ships commerce
and opacity. Did we forget? Camera
whole time they, i threw
back scared, flip on to me,
boy sand girls been drown. They
came in cycles sometimes they
"was empty when we." Panic, sets off
tomorrows, toilet close by the don't
like being not seeing,
somebody radio. The line is
temporarily. My eyes heads
aches dusk. This comes sand. "The time?" Her hat a
banana, sun burst in
at that. Gradually. The
horizon, the were. Wasn't not fat nor far,
walk, and not. Take. Can't. Of
work. Let's go. Ten, worn. This
someday we'll beach

← →

2011-09-11T08:19:00.001-07:00

the last stand

can a computer do this?

or tihs?

~

*note to "the last stand"

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2011-09-11T06:25:00.000-07:00

note to the last stand

the last stand is in response to the New York Times article "In Case You Wondered, a Real Human Wrote This Column", by Steve Lohr, dated September 10, 2011, reporting on computer software that can mimic human writing and reasoning.

~

back to poem

2011-08-24T14:40:00.001-07:00

trick of the write

you get the governance that you deserve
you can't bite the hand the feet
when one is in your mouth
the other in the door
that craving for
the buffet spread the Coach bag
what you pay is what you get
even if it's a lot more
odds are you'd like to forget
the way you came
in through the lack
nothing to buy
nothing to live for
ugly goes with ugly does
debt to the dead
on your head
everything turns to lead
with mouths to feed
this i read
as i read
if i could do it all again
i could do it all again
instead pride comes before
the poor she said she's sad
set your bags down and
you can leave town
in a hurry on the double
at the very first sign of trouble though
i worry for your father so
that he might forget you
know he's too tired to change
or rather too old to hang around
the losses he has found
and think of time passing
the blank days the long nights
the dreams vague over every last thing
the dead schemes
without a will to write
with just back sight
i am bound to do what is right
it's nothing really no one died
it's only a trick of the light

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2011-08-24T06:10:00.001-07:00

observation post

we wait for the three
tonner
on the hill.
three days

and it's drizzling
still. Nee
Soon town glows
bright

as day. it's just
one two
day exercise
away. the

orders
pass down
down the chain.
it's fucking red

bean soup again.
it's small
comfort but it fills.
it's time to kill.

← →

2011-08-11T06:56:00.000-07:00

Cast away

You're lucky to be alive though
relief would soon recede with the tide.
Electra has abandoned you to die.
She's taken to bed by her father's side.

Your compact, your trusted navigator, your pocket knife.
You seed a plot of shells and shards for cupping rain.
The shadowless sun, that shines on all, is on the wane.
Out of your mind your will you will will.

Funereal crabs swallow their tears
and keepsake her bones in nooks and niches.
And all that remains will circumnavigate
the earth, her lands, her seas, her air.

~

*note to "Cast away"

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2011-08-09T06:20:00.000-07:00

note to Cast away

Cast away is based on the Gardner Island hypothesis of the disappearance of aviator Amelia Earhart. That Earhart and navigator Fred Noonan had crashlanded on Gardner Island (now Nikumaroro, part of the Republic of Kiribati) and been castaway before eventually, perishing.
Her aircraft on that fateful round-the-world attempt was a Lockeed Electra 10E.

~

back to poem

2011-08-04T16:20:00.001-07:00

The Age

We merely live in an age when a cellphone
capture of a pet bunny doing nothing
really, or a piece of cake, or shoe, to be consumed,
traffics more hits and likes and piques
than any photograph from The Democratic Forest would.

When North can only muster a hundred and four
word entry in the silicon tablets of our time,
Of Being Numerous and The Alphabet not a meager one,
while The Fame Monster gluts on the eleven thousand
two hundred and eighty little ciphers in her brood.

Some mornings i don’t get out of bed.
What is the point between sleep and wake
when time is out of joint? I don't hate
everyone or everything. Perhaps some
more than some. I admit. I'm angry
at all that endeavour lost to puerile
entertainment that's again been done.
All that growth dragged back in the muck.
Nevermind. I am getting old.
But i'll be damned if i'll get dumb.

I am water out of fish, insides turned out,
gutted from the old cliché.
With all the elements
of air and breathe
and life, gulped and gilled,
extracted and expelled. Or

a dwindling salt sink too distant past
to rouse the rain's recall.
With tell-tale rings of white high up,
bone dry where once was dark and cool,
when primordial spawn did breach the air
to brave new worlds in schools.

← →

2011-08-02T07:11:00.001-07:00

Street opera

They intone
in a tongue
i do not have.
I'm bored. I'm

guessing
that lady cannot stay
with that man.
An impasse

fraught with
cymbals, face paint,
filial
piety. My

mother stands
struck by
tragedy.
It's fate,

she says.
These two
will meet
in a better life one

day.
I make
a song of it
and wait.

← →

2011-07-28T21:49:00.001-07:00

drive

was it worth it anne this
splaying your heart
for such paltry try
on her beaten coat once

more for size lunch
maxine was really nice
who's that in the dresser
                          when you pass by

lay your rings down
                          one at a time
               they sit tabled
tokened

               from other lives
                           side by side
               in words drown i
pour yourself a stiff

               one no ice
                          fuck the doctor's glib advice
"your liver's quite
               alright for

                          now
               to the garage lock
the door
                          and check it

                          and check it
               twice
you've come this far
start the car

                                               ←                →

2011-07-27T06:01:00.000-07:00

Profile Pictures

Again your pretty
whoring for the camera.
You assemble an immaculate array.
A legion of a thousand faces
all the same, pageant and parade, made up,
masking a one woman masquerade.

Cheek to cheek with your self-regard,
men your ramparts, catacomb
by mirror-ball barricades. Another
party to dally cruel age.
The hungover, the casualties, the night stand,
the one-too-many, the keep-an-eye-out honey, the haze,

cupid's stray, the rival bitch,
the dumb fuck, the wanton siege,
the breaches on, the pull-back
to your keep, the rack upon
where wretched guilt in vain is torn apart,
the doubtless dungeon of your heart.

← →

2011-07-20T16:23:00.001-07:00

wild deer

driving home at dusk
from a balmy afternoon at Cold Springs
on the Taconic State Parkway
which i hate - it always seems

to me too frenzied and
too late - with Cheng Wei, Lixia,
Suwen strapped
in the car seat crying

a ballistic warhead, about to detonate, she hates
restraints, we spot
wild deer grazing
on the embankments passing one

after another nuzzling the grass
glass eyes
indifferent
to the rush of cars speeding on

to Saturday night
Manhattan. Ginnie says
slow down lest they
decide to bound across, how her former

boss met a buck head on
with his Toyota. i grip
the wheel a little
tighter, no joke, the damage

that would be done, shift my seat to stay
awake and
am pitched back barely hanging on
to my grandfather's waist

who was to die of cancer later
bewildered, without weight, hooked up to his hospital bed
a blood spitting
Samuel Beckett

lurching
on his motorbike
past the light turned green
his jacket

a puffer fish desperate
he turns to me and says hold
on tight boy i think
but still i lose it

in the prickly heat
in the promise of home and sleep
while time and distance discombobulate
my ill-fitting half egg helmeted dead weight

← →

2011-07-18T09:50:00.001-07:00

Regarding The Funeral
(of Baudelaire, an unfinished painting by Édouard Manet)

i stand and watch the procession
pass before my eyes
the discipline of grief
struck lines

The stench of summer the rotten flowers
plague me from town high
above long time since and less than three short feet
the curious file by excusing

themselves and hearse and horse
and heads bowed down
they trail with hurried steps and furrowed brows
         people die all the time

                                                      eventually
even friends with no amends and even those who are bereft
the trees the breeze circumspect the final stroke
the thunder claps

                                               ←                →

2011-07-13T10:19:00.001-07:00

archipelago

ghost crabs stalk
tentative at first
the crippled booby bird
downed by waves over exuberance
dot and dash dispatch as
old as the wind's refrain
across the sand
on Galápagos

weeks of clinging
to flotsam and instinct
lizards
hardened by millennia
dehydrate and only
by the flick and tongue of plumbless currents
make shore

meticulous
half tonne tortoises
buffet finches
graze
on slope and spine
of calderas
birthed by fire
inching surely each cycle
south east for the americas

pirate birds plunder
nests high walls prowl
sperm whale graveyard
harpoon
headstone for
an industrial age
storehouse of the finest quality
fur seal pelts

sirens
pierce through everything
pluck me from my desert isle
feet from the tv
ruffle feathers of curiosity
take me to the very end that is death
the barren rock
worn
the passing firetruck

~

*note to "archipelago"

← →

2011-07-12T08:43:00.000-07:00

note to archipelago

archipelago is inspired by, and loosely based on a viewing of Galápagos, a three-part documentary that was originally made for the BBC that first aired in September 2006. The executive producer for the series was Michael Gunton, series producer was Patrick Morris. Photographers were Paul Stewart, Richard Wollocombe, Barrie Britton, Peter Scoones.
i caught a rerun in July 2011 on Nat Geo Wild. This is the US version. It was produced by Gail Willumsen and Jill Shinefield. It was written by Gail Willumsen. It was narrated by Tom Hewitt.
As far as possible these credits are accurate.
While the documentary served as a starting point, it was my intention that the thrust of the poem extends beyond it.

~

back to poem

2011-07-11T07:40:00.000-07:00

                  Like This

                  Stay a Way
                  Every Body
                  is Sick
                  With The Flu

                  Carol Says
                  I can Not
                  Say it Any
                  Better so I

                  Wrote Like This
                  like this
                  is True
                  i Said

                  i took it Off
                  a TV Show
                  and
                  made it

                  like This is getting
                  way too tight
                  we need Some air
                  i think I'll put a

                  forest
                  There

                  for us
                  there

                  with lots of
                  space
                  to move
                  between

                  and if i Said
                  it Out of
                  context
                  i meant it

                  in the
                  way each word
                  is
                  its own

                  trace
                  of
                  its
                  own

                  trace
                  of
                  its
                  own

                  erasing
                  like this
                  please
                  Like

                                               ←                →

2011-06-23T09:15:00.001-07:00

lost

in a dream
i lost
my dream job
my dream clothes
my dream car
my dream house
my dream money
my dream life
and i hungered
all night and day for my dream meal
yet no one was there
when i woke
to see
i was dreaming

← →

2011-06-22T13:48:00.001-07:00

breaking up

blinded for a moment by the sun
mirrored off an office window
she said to me he said to me
you know i think we’re through
across the street
the cries of children i cannot see
screech past rush hour traffic

steam off the hotdog cart on Broadway
and Liberty sweet sting of mustard
beggar my appetite and a taxi
cab crawls by with a honk
behind skyscrapers and sky
vaulting across hood and glass
figure he'd try his luck
but really where was he in my hour of need?

the plumpest pigeons in the world
go about their business tripping
columns of summer tourists touts and traders up on
the sidewalk past an old crone swathed
in filthy winter's rags black trash bags bones
hunched head slumped mouth
twisted lips eyes shut up

← →

2011-06-14T06:01:00.001-07:00

committing

in the beginning something terrible happens
in the end order is restored
in the middle is a man
or a woman perhaps one foot off the floor

you can call it the way you see it you think
you've seen this movie before
the predisposition to error
is a predisposition to ignore

you can take yourself out of the equation
you've given your utmost to be sure
raveling the yarn of circumstance
back into a wall

← →

2010-12-22T06:56:00.001-08:00

2010-12-22T04:22:00.000-08:00

new

53 - hello ginnie

52 - the thing

51 - am put at

50 - prospect of/a drowning

49 - malice hurts

48 - point of a rival

47 - wreck

46 - picture by my bedside

45 - There is no room for fat people in pictures of love-making

44 - 41/46

43 - g.k.

42 - R&R

41 - photo of my mother her head to one side

40 - sometimes this place gets so hot you just want to give up

39 - chiangmai afternoon

38 - long distance

37 - Early morning in a hotel room at a seaside resort

36 - FOG

35 - a dream come true for

34 - saturday nite

33 - Gilbert

32 - A boy laments the loss of his girl…

31 - river

30 - stolen

29 - In sooth

28 - Pornography

27 - offday

26 - the last stand

25 - trick of the write

24 - observation post

23 - Cast away

22 - The Age

21 - Street opera

20 - drive

19 - Profile Pictures

18 - wild deer

17 - Regarding The Funeral

16 - archipelago

15 - Like This

14 - lost

13 - breaking up

12 - committing

11 - the end of all that

10 - i am a man

09 - Politicking

08 - prospect park improper haiku

07 - chain reaction

06 - i'm in Singapore on account of my mom being ill

05 - the waiting room

04 - easy does it

03 - Resolution

02 - Like Friction. Waves

01 - i have decided at my age to run the marathon

2010-12-22T04:01:00.000-08:00

poems

- hello ginnie

- the thing

- am put at

- prospect of/a drowning

- malice hurts

- point of a rival

- wreck

- picture by my bedside

- There is no room for fat people in pictures of love-making

- 41/46

- g.k.

- R&R

- photo of my mother her head to one side

- sometimes this place gets so hot you just want to give up

- chiangmai afternoon

- long distance

- Early morning in a hotel room at a seaside resort

- FOG

- a dream come true for

- saturday nite

- Gilbert

- A boy laments the loss of his girl…

- river

- stolen

- In sooth

- Pornography

- offday

- the last stand

- trick of the write

- observation post

- Cast away

- The Age

- Street opera

- drive

- Profile Pictures

- wild deer

- Regarding The Funeral

- archipelago

- Like This

- lost

- breaking up

- committing

- the end of all that

- i am a man

- Politicking

- prospect park improper haiku

- chain reaction

- i'm in Singapore on account of my mom being ill

- the waiting room

- easy does it

- Resolution

- Like Friction. Waves

- i have decided at my age to run the marathon

- suddenly everything spills over the rim & other verses

2010-12-22T02:03:00.000-08:00

stories

- Cross

- the last

- The Man Who Invented the Washing Machine

2010-12-22T01:14:00.000-08:00

about

alfie is a writer & artist living in Brooklyn, New York.

He makes music as LiesDeceit & is one half of the yishuns.

He designs a range of graphics for t-shirts and stuff.

2010-12-22T01:07:00.000-08:00

stuff

Sure! Reading is cool and all
but buying stuff is so much more fun!Click to buy official merchandise
from alfieleewriting!

2006-08-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

Click to read alfie lee's writing.

Scroll down and click on images to check out new and recommended writing.

"Cross"

2006-08-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

"Mary finally came to understand her son
the night she killed a man with her MPV."Click to read "Cross"

"the last"

2006-08-25T15:06:00.000-07:00

"She was the last of the humans left on the island."Click to read "the last"

"The Man Who Invented the Washing Machine"

2006-08-25T15:02:00.000-07:00

"She believed he could do anything
if he set his mind to it.
She believed he had invented
the washing machine."
Click to read "The Man Who Invented the Washing Machine"

Published in Quarterly Literary Review Singapore!

"suddenly everything spills over the rim" & other verses

2006-08-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

Click to read "suddenly everything spills over the rim" & other verses

← →

2006-08-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

note to i am a man

i am a man is inspired and based on Roads to Memphis, a film produced by Amanda Pollak, edited by George O'Connell, written by Michelle Ferrari and directed by Stephen Ives.
In particular, on film footage of the Memphis Sanitation Strike in 1968, in Tennessee, and interviews with Benjamin Hooks and Samuel Kyles, witnesses to the circumstances surrounding the "I've Been to the Mountaintop" speech delivered, at the Mason Temple (Church of God in Christ Headquarters) in Memphis, Tennessee, on April 3rd, 1968, by Martin Luther King, Jr. His last.
While the literal contents of i am a man were inspired by historical facts and records, i hope for the thrust of the poem to go beyond the specifics.

~

back to poem

2006-08-21T08:05:00.000-07:00

i am a man

the wind was a blowin'
i am a man
the rain hittin' the roof
i am a man
lightnin' flashin'
i am a man
thunder clappin'
i am a man
i was frightened to
tell you the truth
i am a man
i am a man
lyin' there
shakin'

shutters at the back bangin'
i am a man
the wind so high
i am a man
and every time
they be bangin'
i am a man
i be jumpin'
               and
they be bangin'
i am a man
and i be jumpin'
                   bang!
i was frightened
to tell you the truth
i am a man
i am a man
lyin'
there shakin'

~

*note to "i am a man"

                                               ←                →

2006-08-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

the end of all that

you asked me if i loved you
you think perhaps i might
say something somewhat clever
to set things right

we make love like rabbits
make hey like sunshine
when finally the spring snow
melted we polished off the wine

the trees are powdered with blooms
the highways wet with light
the winds are cross with one another
rain is forecast tonight

you asked me how i was
i think perhaps i'm fine
i update my status diligently
and wrestle my waistline

you asked if i was happy
i think perhaps i'm fine
i spend my hours going
and coming to the end of the line

← →

2006-08-21T07:55:00.000-07:00

Politicking

incumbent upon opposition
words too weak for wear
too soft to wield power
too much weight to bear
too thick to fatten a wallet
too bankrupt for a suit
too bored to sit still
two words
is just too

no ideas in ideology
no true worth no true words no worse no nothing will come of nothing outside
poetry
no space in a district drawn
where everyone
has a number a vote a name
no relief cast by candle
no honest man found
when the sun comes on

it can't do right or wrong
or maybe it won't
melancholy and lies it does
insolence whimsy stupidity
sure enough
it can try to tell you
everything god how it tries
but never does
contradicts itself
doesn't contradict itself
with equal conviction
too self conscious
does what it says
opposite the only
told it's what do won't it
describe shouldn't it be scribe
a scene (below) but not hard
i scoff at poems that are lists
in prose of broken lines
this one is two
are we there yet?
that's what it does to you
forked twisted bite my tongue
jealousy envy in spades
anger blind rage
happiness happenstance
love always
and always
a breaking heart

now
were those some of the most stupid
wankerish passages i have ever written?
quite possibly so i don't know
but it goes to show

i her one son
was not around to see my mother die
but she always voted opposition
and so will i

they parked the rental
got out and walked
along the path
flanked
by cattails ten feet flailing
the Old Montauk Highway
behind them
a sometime car

the lake dark slate
ringed with ice
rippling where the waters are
he pointed at the ducks
on the far shore
in a row
their quarrels echo pass
windborne

squinting she turned and said
geese waht!

← →

prospect park improper haiku

2006-08-21T07:50:00.000-07:00

                                 running fast yellow
                                 light past yellow leaves middle
                                 aged woman jogger

                                                                              pfuts

                                               ←                →

2006-08-21T07:45:00.000-07:00

chain reaction

it always starts
with the weather that's what it feels like anyway
the flurry of emails
retrieved from the spam folder

give me a sense of comfort
checking books out from the library
and having them at home though
they are never read collecting dust prop things up

the constant renewing the adventure returns to chore
when routine sets in i think
i'll plan a trip a cruise
the Bahamas or maybe venture off my couch

a staycation but the music from my downstairs
neighbor is disrupting my efforts in
establishing a rhythm that i am
unwilling to accept syncs not with my moves i can't

i don't follow she said leave me alone
please leave me alone so we
set the clocks forward one hour in march and begin
again i feel i've lost track

of the two hundred photos per album sixty odd albums
mostly party mugs when
i last had lunch with him
i realize now how he was looking

and in the eaves chattering
finches insist that we leave can we have some of that
please i only wish for the sun to break
through the overcast sky and shine the waters to subside

that i know would settle my mind
for i do not fear death

no ok that is not exactly true i know

i am no longer even half the man i had once hoped to be
come that's kinda awkward and life and you have made a coward of me now
that's kinda unfair and it's not dying that i fear but who
will tell you that it's

alright it keeps me up at night it keeps
me plodding round the park it keeps me off the salt it keeps me
nervous with every tic and unfamiliar ache and lump
for who will tell you it's alright it keeps me up

← →

i'm in Singapore on account of my mom being ill

2006-08-21T07:35:00.000-07:00

      was at the Sungei Buloh Wetlands Reserve today
      observed

      - 1 ferocious shower spelling no relief passing
      - 2 monitor lizards basking sunburst glory
      - 3 monitor lizards languid snake in brack two faraway shelter cathedral       roots last dauntless cross an open dash of light
      - 1 unending orchestra of crickets meticulously tuning their instruments
      - 1 monitor lizard beatup tailless heave off coppery pool almighty splash
      - 1 rainbow now no more
      - 1 monitor lizard standoff ... flickering tongue on foot path refusing to       get out of the way and me not versed in lizard and nervous and nervous       if he knew i come in peace
      - 1 mosquito on my left arm abdomen ballooning with my blood that i       promptly dispatched from this earth and too brief life left me humming       Lennon karma
      - 1 mosquito on my left arm bloodless next to mosquito pool of blood       who was also dispatched henceforth with same palm slap left me       scratchy memory
      - schools of glistening fish dart past pond
      - 2 kingfishers flashes of blue
      - 1 mudskipper turkey drumstick sinewy in oily water spastic on land
      - 1 whooping call from an unseen bird in bent back canopy rush memory       where i used to live each morning and roused the same and swore bloody       revenge but now most fondly
      - 1 monitor lizard expired flotsam upsidedown
      - 3 labourers siesta in hide tousled by my inopportune arrival
      - 5 sideways crabs brooking no audience retreating
      - 1 evil looking wasp-like bug who seemed to think i was following him       and meant harm when i was just going down boardwalk directions and       more afraid than he before we parted buzzed his displeasure in my ear       full of language i cannot repeat here
      - 1 juvenile monitor curious polished head peeking out of hollow       stumped at my being
      - too many clear instances of short-sightedness
      - 4 shiny sudden skinks
      - 1 mudskipper walking on water why not swim
      - 2 waterhens conversation
      - 2 movements on mudflats indistinct just off field of vision imagined       perhaps
      - 2 singaporean families reluctant children parents complaisant too white       legs out of water in tow
      - 3 distinct bursts of noises beyond language meaning memory
      - 3 flights of rowdy pipers wading out the distant winter shopping for       crustaceans and exchanging news from home
      - 1 ten foot crocodile round bend whereby i went holy shit! out loud to       no one and feel blessed who bids me with one primordial beady eye       soundlessly slips into water on the other side goodbye

                                               ←                →

2006-08-21T07:30:00.001-07:00

the waiting room

another gathering another
procession we sit
and talk politely
of the good old days
the missing
children
survivors
we keep our voices down
spirits up humbly
pass the packet drinks
around reminiscences
we wander
in the wake

i remember her back
that sudden evening i was
struck and thought wow
the light in her eyes
fluorescent
reflecting off
the photo now

lying in every
intention unkind and bitter
thought
bedding behind defenses
when our attention
lead elsewhere

we are lead
in fear
in despair fresh in
the shampoo in our hair
in the early morning air

my heart overflows with sludge
chokes everything in its path

42 flashes
i suppose my number's next

← →

2006-08-21T07:30:00.000-07:00

easy does it

please click here to read
warning!
contains strong language!

← →

2006-08-21T07:25:00.000-07:00

easy does it

talk is easy
do do is hard
cunts are easy
cocks are hard

fucking is easy
children are hard
easy is easy
easy is hard

and the wise will rise over
the stupid and
the humble over
the proud
and the good
the bad
the
happy
the

sad

keep your voice down
and your chin up

i don't have the science to back this up but
do leftovers taste better
sometimes?

on July 9th, 2002, Detective John Gray a fifteen
year veteran of
the King's County Homicide Unit a
large stocky man with a salt
and pepper handle bar
moustache is
assigned to the cold case and he says rest
assured folks we will do everything everything in our power

← →

2006-08-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

i have decided at my age to run the marathon

the many pressives bolt

and start to visualize

for iodine and sweet despatch

a concatenation of

eclectic cities. i

unlock my case. worn

withal do inspect

the unique bland of goods

and lasting restitution, here

i come to you forsake, to

best command amid size

sedentary and praise the level

of subscription in assenting

order. no longer the protraction in

fright for i or bear trap

of the heart. the structure less

thought is less raveled

for a treason. however i may have

mistook you to the occipital

of this state i mean, this is how

we should to quill and

these the harrows of our ways.

← →

2006-08-21T07:10:00.000-07:00

Resolution

Overnight pun. Hard rock. Hurts
when it hits. Been training the mind
on a runaway thought. The spread of snow
over the stop. A kind of ague. So
and so says so on and so forth.
Gesture is a word.

The sky overcast misses its mark.
Yet tomorrow another dollar. The last
night in San Francisco we hit all
the spots. All the flowers. All aboard!
Embarcadero! Hung over
yonder by the hair of the dog.

Give me a reason to get up at all.
In one year and out the other. She said
you're old and i've got cabin fever.
A truck spins its tires without remorse. Is it day
light yet in Singapore? Are her streets
awash with rain?

Someone please get me my iPhone. We
forage in packs and come in pieces. Surrender to
the do nots. The ball is dropped. That's
how they say it in these here parts.
As grave is to gravity. Now in your court.
The dust bomb of the clock. Cocked.

← →

Like Friction. Waves

2006-08-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

so the interviewer behind glass says she can’t find the report and
asks what have i been doing the past five years. How is it
i have made nothing? Five years? Without
friction i think watching her mouth
move we cannot move. Without
it is sunny and the world aglow and past the safety of the shore
                                                                                                                a

                                                    speck

                                                     still

                                                    waves

                                                     pound

                                                         ~

                                               ←                →