Nataniel Was Trenchant Underneath the Trenchcoat by Jared Joseph




Poetry


 


Nataniel was trenchant underneath the trenchcoat

there is a t-shirt there that says “I will never get

Gwyneth Paltrow,” the line broken like that, in the way

I’ve broken it. And so Noah, for this overobservér

reality wears the face of adjectives. Noah is drunk

and when so so funny, pummeling, in-your-face, and

great TV. When oversober Noah is

pensive, distracted, paneling, irascible man when brought

back down slow-to-speak. But now Noah is at

peak drunk in the booth with me, Nataniel on my left with his deep trench

foot and cold water or mud and marked by blackening and death of

surface

tissue, and i blow my nose with it in the pocket of his coat his coat is off,

and

Noah on the other side asks

Do you want to fuck her?

And Nataniel says no

I would never fuck her.  And Noah says I would

fuck Gwyneth Paltrow, you wouldn’t fuck Gwyneth

Paltrow?  And Nataniel says no, I will never know

or understand Gwyneth Paltrow.  And Noah says not

mutually exclusive.  And I say your shirt makes it make

like, like you want to get her, fuck her.  And Nataniel says

no, she is horrible, I am opposing her.  And I say

it is easy to target a woman            you fucking thumb.  I myself am

inclined to misread this shirt this way, that you

want to fuck her.  But anyway, why direct your

thumb there?  You are not against Obama, or ISIS, or

Mel Gibson, you are misdirecting your energies, why not

target a director?  “Wind keeps” can be aggregated

into meaningful sentence.  Topic is only a stenographic reproduction

of a much more extensive event, or you can bang

on the drums, or you guys, you can rest in the

house to the fullness of the “years of the Lord.”  There is no scarcity

of the years of the Lord, they don’t march lessly on

and end in Aprille, so you die, spray your nitrates to contribute

to a book in May; our years are scarce, and you choose not to

fuck Gwyneth Paltrow, you choose to draw a line against

gucking Gwyneth Paltrow, but this the problem when you use the verb

‘get,’

she’s an American sex object, and we don’t get that you don’t want to

get her.  Double-bind single-origin Statham in the Furious 7 plays

Sean Decker, whose brother’s dead, making him the former

double-decker left a single origin.  I don’t draw a line against being

aghast by death, by my interests in death.  Brothers relate, one to another,

oddly.  It seems the dream that one die.  But that inherently

“novelistic” and “dramatizing” rather than “scientific” or “empirical”

as I’ve never had a brother.  I have a new sister

like every two years.  Dad’s not alone, he’s just

thirsty.  Kisses his wife, kisses his daughter, kisses his name

into my neck at night the draught i drink it.  Blows weeds into my ear, TH

-C-section of the room and everything i’ve ever known, Tim

C. Thiel passed away, in his room, at age 32, page 1

of a confusing shared document.  Me, i moralize.

These 3 an anagram 4 memorialize.  You must just use your

memorial eyes.  i will never amnesia you, i will always

anamnesis you.  I think Gwyneth Paltrow is

as horrible as the next guy who thinks famous people are horrible, a

horrible job

and effort their struggle our struggle, as most people who are famous are

held

up as example, and know no longer whom they are

representing.  I think you are confusing subject and object, but

it’s an abject subject.  When i was young, i was

young.  Nataniel walked away.  Never saw him again.  Noah

and i had fun.  Some shirts are stupid, some shirts are made

after the urge to shoot down someone weak, defenseless, and not

at the seat of power you sit down on

her face and choke it.  What’s really the

impulse there, to kill what you love?  I

kill what i love every day.

it’s cause i’m small, and it’s cause of

smallness.  Annalist was not, of course, aphasic –

i felt purpose the desire then exceed the events that

i felt purpose the desire she events that

hurt me i’ll be there.

hurt one rest at              the house, Nataniel, and i met

yet at, what happened next?  i can’t say, am afraid

to have my picture.  Tim C. Thiel killed himself

killed his dog studied in the History of

Consciousness program, and could you dust

the stairs?  I don’t know where

he went.  That’s all i know.  Mila, my beautiful daughter,

said she didn’t care.  She is 4.

Tim  was her uncle.  And at the funeral

she says why are you crying?  You have his pictures

his stories.  And i cry, because i’m moved, and Mila says

Mommy, Why are you crying, and i say because You

have moved me.  Is he in that box

Mila says.  Yes, i say, and Mila considers the box with

her ring finger fell in her mouth.

19 days later Mila says Mommy will you die,

too?  And i say yes, someday the I will.  And Mila says Whoa.

And her eyes have a fish die in it, carnations rain in it, and no new

incarnations.  And Mila says Mommy will you die,

too?  And i say yes, someday thee, I will will it.  And Mila says Where

will you go, and i say He left.  and i say Mila, I don’t know, i don’t get

to know, until i do die, and even then, perhaps i

writ.  Perhaps i write i won’t, perhaps i write i won’t, perhaps i fuck to hope

i don’t.  and i say Mila, i don’t know, i still don’t get

it, get to know, until i do die, and even then, perhaps i

won’t.  I won’t, and don’t say this, or much more than i

don’t know, Mila begins to cry.  Does that mean i won’t

see Tim  again, Mommy?  Mila begins to

know.  i begin to cry.  While i cry i think

Wingeth Paltry. Wet Glyph.  Plight Welt.

World.  Textual Voids.  Other mem-vers of         glass

the Annales group.  I call Mila’s mother Corey and i say

She keeps calling me mommy and i can’t end this

gleam without illumination…as they really happened

must be matched against another.

must be marched against another.

Sister with the failure of a modern pity

morality play, point of view literally nothing.

what happens.  the blue and brilliant ocean.

i translate sky for book and now you’ll get that.

 
 

Jared Joseph is boring.