THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

she likes riots and ruckusshe likes rock and rollshe likes shots of tequilashe knows

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

i learned about shaving fromseventeen magazine and the internet. lather,

sweep with the grain, rinse

down the drain. warmth opens up

the pores, it makes

skin more willing to give up its

cover. i*ve found that people are

like pores. i discovered hair everywhere on

my body, and i tried to read it like a

map. my kneecaps

became mountains, my thighs

stretches of interstate wandering towards

some hushed oasis or another. this

was learning myself in sections, finding

home in skin rich enough

to grow hair like wildflowers.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

OOOLIIVVER FAYE

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

WE SAW A RAT DYING ON THE SIDEWALK AND WE DIDNT KNOW WHATRACHEL AND STEF AND RACHEL HOW TERRIBLE TO DIE ON THE SIDEWALK

COVERED IN FLIES . ITS TOO HOT OUT FOR THIS HIPSTER BULLSHIT

THIS DOG IS NAMED KATNISS WTF

CATS ARE WHERE ITS AT

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

hotbuns11 pasword 1okkkkkkkpk, ,m n bv ccx ';;;;;;;;l;;l;;;l;ljjgghfghghdgahgahghghghsggghkkkkkkkkkkkkkmkk

bbb bnmb b vxz /// By COLE

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

one month and we are married. if we survive we;ll let you know when we get there

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

dear birds i love you sleep how i miss you

words you are new ME

hohoow do i sleeep lolololololl

The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/15/15

The rain in Spain Falls mainly in the plains--and Tompkins.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

where is the lemonade stand?

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

this is hooked up to a computer.i am with a person i have only known for like

less than a year

which is astounding to me

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

do not invite CONNOR to your birthday brunchyou do not HAVE to do anything.

time is a construct

i mean time

but who are we even I miss the month of may

not the month

but the month

a lot can happen in a year.

you can meet a new best friend. you can fall in love. you can get depressed.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

the last time i was in tompkins sq it still had a bandshell.and a puertorican kid let me see his knife once,me and paul; my brother used to walk his dog here until

he too went to california and left the dog

with a junkie named edgar. overall it seems nicer

less urgent. one summer when i had help i saw

people throw molotov ocktails from the rooftops

during a riot, at the police. id see the people

just the flaming smear of red yellow fire in the nite

near 8th st and avenue c. anyway i miss the bandshell

and as to the the rhubarb between the hippies and

puertoricans about what kind of music should be

performed

^^-- by now i would change sides and

prefer the salsa, pacahang or some bugalooga

but one thing i can say is i really appreciate

the relative scarcity

of dogshit -jm

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

the dancers in the summer heat, wore jinglebells on their feet.

they pranced and sang their jolly tunes,

i bet the old man has a spittoon.

oh- i broke a nail... linneas and jessicas creation

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

numidear humdid you see the morris dancers break dancing the other day?

no i was too b busy trying to figure out the jobs of the people around us

the rastan the pirate

the emncd

...

august

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

dear greg,this is kind of weird because you're next to me right now and i would like you to stop looking -- thanks i dont really know how to write this without thinking about all the people that could read this, and that you will read this to. it probably wont

make sense to anyone so im tempted to slam xout lines of poetry or makw

the metallic clicking of this typewriter gorgeous declarations of love

and proclamations of joy, but thats not what this feels x like. right now

im just going to be olivia instead of a writer and let moorish dancers do

their jingle bell thing and without worrying about college or the future

or the internet, just stare at the back of your head and let your blue shirt

soak up my tears and jxust let my writing be bad. thats okay, every once

in a while. to be a human instead of a writer. xat least, it feels okay

to me, my love. love, olivia

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

theres a girl i know with her eyes in her hair and her tics nested behind her teeth. her smile is painted on her fingers in black nail po

lish but she sees it as happily as any yellow july day. i dont think sh

e knows i love her yet -- maybe she did once but has lost it in broken

promises and lonely red nights. i cant be sure, but i think she has los

t the love people have for her in the love unreturned she has for othe

r people

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

WHAT A NICE IDEA! this can be this is exelelent I Love william Borrowes and I ok, I will be here and just observe

Rock n Roll

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

i love deez nuts

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

summer goes by like a flash so you shood lay on the grassand engoy it.

The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15 The Poetry Society of New York 7/14/15

page torn and your cover is battered and hard but i read youpages with blank, pages with space but i keep turning the pages intrigued, pages unseen

you tell a story you paint a scene

inbetween the lines there is a knowledge of all the little things sublimes that enchant your story

your life is an allegory without a shame

and as i keep turning the page i hope to find my name

if not a chapter, maybe just a prase a hint of my being

so that when someday

someone reads you they will know what this poem means .