7.6 – 7.20
Stacy Szymaszek

Carroll Gardens: Zagat and NYC DOHMH grade signs on tinted plate glass windows//garbage day sludge, bonus for the smell//these common large-leaved weeds wilted in heat wave//

garden of faux fleurs

partially deflated dirty white balloon, may be more abject//yellowing condom that Cass sniffs//not much is really ugly when I eliminate litter//oh, herbicide in the park 7/5, no chicken bone hunting today, she feels this is an ugly break from routine//totally fried Bachelor’s Buttons//who has the courage to pull out their appliances//

I did, “let’s never let it get that bad again”

old queer’s spandexed package perched on the neighboring bike seat turns me into a rubbernecker, or is it his yellow tube socks//sugar, goodbye, shriveled organic produce, condiment shelf goo// disembodied hair//smell of Murphy’s Oil Soap, reminds me of when I had a house, the realty is what’s ugly//Cass likes to pee through the sidewalk grates, look down to see thick covering of absorbent cigarette butts//neighbors to ghost properties Preschool of America and Wonderland Kid Spa//children in the park gather round Cass, I think “Suddenly Last Summer”//

toe nail fungus of a shoeless man//the same shoeless man sitting where people have to step over his foot

American Apparel//movie being shot outside my gym//Marco Polo//coffee grinding controversy, straight to the authorities some kind of fear of intimacy//looking at the photos you’d think only heterosexual couples make forever families for pets//Cass intrigued by growling dogs//2nd time I’ve stormed away from the Union deli//new shop where I buy a tank top despite being under surveillance for being a dyke pay with a 50//elderly woman with cane lapping us again

East Village: cartoon M&M’s© key chains hanging from an ATM sign//plastic waste from 9 people devouring take-out sushi//it’s a mural of a purple tree with a long green nose and eyeballs//hoard of women at 16 Handles//choir singing the national anthem, panic, get out so fast zip drive somehow slips out my silky pocket, GONE despite search through cobblestones//the e. vill. seems ugly today despite some attractive people, like Lucy who I remember as a kid in Milwaukee, then PP intern, now on her way to Iowa – she’s in post work-out euphoria so missed my mild effort to greet–2nd & 5thish- good luck Lucy!//M-F my own personal hero tour dead or alive//unsolved murder site where I saw a baby pig head//fight with Ukrainian Home waitress, standing up for my committee, we will not be back//horse shit smell, not the smell but its daily presence//

it’s a sauna in here, dancer
sweat, like entering
humanity’s glands

Jimmy’s whistle and barge maneuver//panic that I forgot the key so typical but then I find it so typical//soggy almonds pungent chicken renovations apparently just cosmetic never going to the Met for lunch again//just green juice now pulverized by a Polish woman I’ve been making small talk with for seven years but when she’s off the guys skimp on the ginger-recent price increase makes it not the best deal in the village//first I thought everyone was Catholic, then I thought everyone was responsible//

fuck you and the hummer you rode him over on

revisit train etiquette 1)do not hold the pole with your ass cheeks 2)I get not wanting to lose your real estate but move away from the entrance to let me in 3) if you closed your legs a whole family could sit down//

“east village frozen yogurt scene”//The 13th Step, at least it was feasible to go to the Telephone Bar//hummer just parked there like a flaunt

7.25 – 7.27

7th Ave/Fashion Ave: “signature drinks”//drop wallet then sunglasses when I bend to pick up wallet//salespeople on wheels//he needs to know my name for a cup of green tea//finance for non-finance people on a summer day//1 hr. early, typical psychopathology among the imposter community//tea shop with sick vibe//parts of me are in every line of every budget a prostitute pumping the numbers the urgency of story-telling

Carroll Gardens: Case file against the USPO, I want my pants from Sweden//wresting soggy slice from Cass’s jaws, spine of a chicken faint echo of a growl//passive aggressive morning cartoon mind all BLANG//4am dream of me in white muff hat and green leather high heels no getting back to sleep with teeth chattering and K having hot flash//“are you going to read fire in my beast hole tonight?”//skipped at meat market counter but don’t storm out because in this phase of my cycle MARS NEEDS PROTEIN//finding another wet spot//having to say “I’m gay” at this day and age//

“especially after you were
so mean to me this morning”

 think about going into that store again, nice shirt in the window, the desire for a shirt//renounce couch in form and function//1% savings in pet store//“Sign with your finger”//F inching away after 30 second space out above ground//every season starts with an upset, I think I know what it’s going to be, though trying to accept that I am no longer omnipotent, a power I had to renounce because it was blowing out my adrenal gland//5 people who can’t tell me where Tillary is//as I enter w/o my passport application, failed multitask due to years long avoidance of proof of residence//thinking I still lived off the grid till 100 things proved me//everyone in line is furious//7 day food journal shows less dairy less meat less wheat less food//TSH level up, stop taking pill with coffee//shame

when I meet someone who can pronounce my last name the real way, like inauthenticity is just easier for me//being thanked in books with my name spelled wrong “will they know it’s me?”//forgot wallet so have to go back and hear Cass barking, give her a chew, leap of faith she won’t choke//where is the complete file of my masterpiece that I’m afraid to publish?//“immature cataracts”//a worm that takes up to 2 years to die//most baby carriages//ugliest chandelier//K keeps moving my vitamins and supplements//top half is sleeping while bottom half blots up pee//talk to neighbors about the barking//one small light, just who do I think is coming to get me?//

watching Longtime Companion 20 yrs
later I want to punch the Bruce Davison
character in the face as he tells his
dying lover to let go over and over again

 East Village: knowledge of deaths added to the avenue palimpsest//driving a station wagon down Delancey, being criticized for not inhabiting the size and strength of my vehicle//yell “get out” at destined F stop with put-on miff//a letter can be too painful to read 20 years later//a date to receive unknown bad news in person//how you feel so close to your subject and then he fades//commuting with heavy bags//in theory love PDAs, in practice only when I’m involved//tiles at Bergen Station crashing to the floor during a storm, there I see George and Chris Tysh noticing the tiles crashing but they don’t recognize me or may be they have NYC doppelgangers, too chicken to find out, is everyone who gets off on 2nd Ave a poet?//crane–sidewalk-pit where Mars Bar was-construction worker waving people to cross//biggest pile of warm meat//“Coma Conspiracy”//what you don’t know is I’m down to two arms//episcopal fatigue//role playing my lover and telling her about how I did it//journal of when I get detached and logical//journal of my omnipotence//journal of catastrophic thoughts//“You sound just like your mother”//

“I didn’t tell you because she doesn’t allow guys in
her house. It’s her religion”

Williamsburg: series that has audience say their names and which reader they came to support and no one’s there to support ME//breastfeeding woman asks me about Pasolini, not ugly just notable//ATM won’t give me money to pay for my punch//“I wish there was a mentorship program for straight people”//reading off laptop sitting on a stool//text from K, “I’m wearing your tankini”//never felt oppressed by a nautically themed bar before//every time I pass Ainslie I remember being hostage to my desire with only a jar of Nutella to last the weekend


Stacy Szymaszek
Stacy Szymaszek

Stacy Szymaszek is a poet, editor and arts administrator. She is the author of the books Emptied of All Ships (2005) and Hyperglossia (2009), both published by Litmus Press, as well as numerous chapbooks, including Pasolini Poems (Cy Press, 2005), Orizaba: A Voyage with Hart Crane (Faux Press, 2008), Stacy S.: Autoportraits (OMG, 2008), from Hart Island (Albion Books, 2009) and austerity measures (Fewer & Further Press, 2012). She is the Artistic Director of the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church. She is currently a mentor for Queer Art Mentorship.