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The · Bunk · Movement


the bastardization of beat and punk

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This is something I wrote some time ago and rediscovered while digging around some old poetry. For whatever reason, I wanted to post it here.

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i find it ammusing that in all my rants and ramblings i tend to never write about what i originally intended to put to words......but this one i am gonna force myself to throw out there.....it can be filed under life being stranger than fiction......first off i am going to explain that the title of this entry.....well the Keep Portland Weird part.....is a bumper sticker that can be seen on quite a few vehicles around these parts.....people pride themselves in portland over the fact that this is one weird cooky strange arse city......but the masses would have it no other way......needless to say....i feel quite at home around here.....regardless of how i look people still talk to me and deal with me....and are genuine about it......usually when my hair is dyed a funny color with the eyebrows matching and it standing tall and proud strtangers of all social classes will inquire as to the details and be all amazed and flabbergasted and then make some comment about how they are gonna pass the info along to someone they know thats into that stuff......my favorite thus far was the lady at work whose son was just beginning his teen years and wanted to dye his hair......she always thought i did a nice job of it and decided to ask me all about it so she could make sure it worked out well for her son.....i gave her some of the dye i had still in the colors requested and instructed her with all my tips on the process.....she brought back pictures a touch later and was all sorts of appreciative......but i digress about my point....yet again......but back story can be good in setting the mood or theme....which is that the unorthodox is pretty orthodox out here and no one really bats an eye to ones absurdities.....instead they find ammusement out of it.......anywho......as i was figuring out what to get the raver jew for her day of birth.....i turned a corner downtown in chinatown to some guy painting a building.....his back was turned to me and he was leaning into his car to blast the silly song playing on the radio.....some ditty from the 80's which escapes me....something about some devotchka dancing.....and as he finishes turning up the volume....he begins to move is hips and feet while raising his arms in the air...and belts out the lyrics while dancing.......then he turns my way to get back to the task at hand of painting the building......and the absurd motherfucker is wearing clown makeup on his face.......i shit you not.....i burst out laughing and wish i had sense enough to either make a quick video of the event....or taken pictures......but the best part of it is that somehow it just seemed natural for this to occur.....like that clown was supposed to be there painting that wall.....singing and dancing and painting for my inner-child ammusement......and then i got to thinking where else could such a thing happen.....sure i have heard of odd things happening here or there....and i have even taken part in quite a few of them.....somehow this one just seemed different.....more breaking some fourth wall or another......i also should confess in the ammusement that my friend kind of worried about the occurance of the singing dancing painting clown and would have avoided the street had i not just kept going forward giggling and smiling.....of course now i worry i must be crazy simply because of how i reacted to the situation at hand......finding it comforting and quite normal.....c'est la vie, eh
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she passes by me and not much truly happens in that minute moment of time.....just a passing.....no first glance narrowing the success of a double take type look......just a passing....and yet in that just a passing she has changed the air......huff.......her odor assaults my nostrils full force.....blowing my mind into expedient action....first identifying the different facets of this jewel......then conjuring up different associated images.....first of the identifying type....then of the memory type....huff.....this flood of memories causes me to drown in sensory overload....mentally....and i begin to simply float along......my body still remembering certain details....like left foot right foot left foot right foot....huff....still somehow smelling her sweet seductive scent.....convenient i must admit.....me somehow heading to where she just came from.....the knowing with each breath i take.....and just as quickly as it began....my mind is slammed back into reality....as my feet have brought me to my destination......the paperwork won't file itself, eh
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as of the cold of the night sets deep in my bones.....i take the first drag off my smoke and contemplate my current reality....as the smoke enters my lungs....i begin to truly see the here and now as never before.....as i exhale....feeling the first waves of addiction fulfilled.....i lose it for a brief moment....thinking of nothing else but the magic taking place internally....causing me to yearn for more....as nothing else is on my mind....so past the lips....over the gums...look out lungs....here it comes....and i begin the death march again.....i become greedy as i take my third drag.....and am choked back into reality as i am reminded about what is stated on the side of the pack.....this causes me to laugh for several drags....as i remember i can not become pregnant....nice try surgeon general.....but your warning won't fool me.....in defiance i suck in what should be my eight, ninth, and tenth drags......this is where i crash down and realize i was thinking about something at the start of all this....but what was i realizing....i know it was monumental somehow....i need a smoke to calm my nerves....being all frazzled as they are....yeah that eleventh might not have been smooth....but my head starts to float a touch more.....at this point i accept that this thing has a little control over me.....and as such it angers me....so in defiance i snuff it and swear that was my last smoke.....until my next at least
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FUCK YEAH! My package has arrived.
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never true, but that doesn't matter, does it?

who really gives a shit about the state of the world
or where the latest war is?
i know i want nothing to do with it
just sit here and get older, fatter, less willing to do anything
inflating the wasted days
maybe one day or two
sometime
i might move
i might not

does anyone care?
does anyone matter?

fuck all and have
a nice
day

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everyone's always new to some kind of grouping. even loners will search out one or two other loners. nobodies. communities form, even of freaks. people who distrust one another will chose.

distopia over hermatige.

one could suppose Selvedge was an emotional black hole. a social black hole. He was a joiner but none wanted his company. and when he joined, it was never for long. meeting places moved. rescheduled. "I forgot to forward the email. Sorry." Selvedge bought drinks. rounds. dinners. lived over his budget and gave gifts. meeting places moved.

rescheduled.

Selvedge was bitten in the shoulder. high on the arm. the deltoid. the infection was slow and after he died. he couldn't keep other zombies away. they came from miles around. drank his liquor enhanced with bodily fluids. brought over some beaters. the living. nieve goth types, hungry for the cred of hanging with "real" zombies.

'Was I this annoying when I was a beater?" Selvedge asked himself.
Current Location:
norman oklahoma
Attitude:
thankful thankful
Inspiration:
mas que nada by brazil 66
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Dashed Dreams Dispersed In Unintelligible Intellect
Yet You Yearn for Manageable Mental Meanings
Stoically Sifting through Shits;Sticking to Contrite Conclusions
Properly Prostrating Publicly Falling For the False Facades
Effervescent Entertainment for Everyone Waiting While Watching Words
People Privately Ponder the Personification of All Analytical Attributes
Staking claims to Self-assured Sanity But Betting Black Buttons
Invoking Inward Injustices Ostentatiously Ogling Outward Omens
Albeit Abandoning All Happiness And Hope
Attitude:
complacent complacent
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as i write this i know that soon they will ask me to do that which i stated i would never do and yet find myself in no other position but to comply. their arguments become more compelling as each torturous day passes. they coddle me. telling me that it was they who failed me and not i who failed them. they comfort me. telling me that i had no other recourse and they fully understand that. they nurture me. telling me that once i accept my fate the easier it will be to follow my true path. they understand me. telling me that perhaps they were too lax and willing to let me do my own thing but now that i am grown up i must conform. they lie. i know this because they tell the others the same thing coaxing my brothers and my sisters into their comfort zone and then i no longer hear them, no longer feel them, no longer see them, no longer taste them, no longer smell them. they are right. i knew that what i planned to do would and could only result in this and yet weighing all my other options there existed none other but this one. i did not start this thinking i would ever see my dreams come to fruition but hoped that it would not die with me. perhaps they are strong because of their ability to make us do that which we swore we would not. perhaps that is where their power truly lies and where i should have focused my fight. such a simple concept. to simply do that which you know you should do as opposed to that which they direct you to do. this i realize too late is where the true revolution lies. but how does one start such a revolution. perhaps you will have better luck than i. but then again if you are reading this then i know it is already too late.
Attitude:
pessimistic pessimistic
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as i grow older i realize that i do not fit into any sort of mold that exists today and yet i can put on a mask and pretend to fit in as i see fit
as i grow older i realize this world deserves its fate of hell in a handbasket and yet i am arragont enough to think i can change it
as i grow older i realize that i can come up with nothing original nor new and yet i waste my time trying to prove myself wrong failing as i go
as i grow older i realize this lifetime was not meant for you nor me and yet i know i am supposed to be in the here and now
as i grow older i realize that i am a nobody a nothing a waste and yet i think i have such shamefully wasted possible potential
as i grow older i realize this must be the first step and that i must be the one to leap into this void waiting for others to follow
Current Location:
the gutter of my mind
Attitude:
mischievous mischievous
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