®oulette Word Game

Write a short poem/story consisting of 38 words. (make sure majority of words are nouns, verbs, adjectives) if you want.

Using the poem/story:
1. replace every number with one word (including 0,00).
2. replace every chip with one syllable (the more syllables to gain or lose).
3. spin the wheel & ball.
4. see where it lands.
5. re-construct the original poem/story based on chance to determine the story/poem.
6. spin wheel 38 times.
7. you may land seveal times on one word and zero on another.
8. place your bets on a word.
9. if it lands, the more syllables gained to stay in the game.
10.but don't count on winning, no one wins.
11.the objective is to reconstruct a poem/story based on the operation.
12.just a means to land on words.

At Foxwoods Casino in Connet-it-Cut:
from the utters of "I need a Lipstick & a USB"

They wanted to &
so did I, we drove through
wood from where line breaks
haven't yet begun,
that I-95 to South 92,
C-Los in his seat
shuffling through De-La-Soul
Cut to: 7th grade, a
lapse of bored pencil carvings
mark roads on the desk,
who would've known
we'd grow up to get out
of Providence in a hurry
for readymade chance encounters
on the table: I ask a 20-something male
"what's your number" to which
he says "21" & it hits, a curtain
of digital red falls flat, I knock over
P-Dog's rum & coke on the
3rd 12, even numbers turn over
from sleep paralysis in Berlin,
a Chinese woman pulls out
a Hair blow-dryer
as if to scan the causes of chance
while the other one rings
a gold elephant charm
quietly to herself. We stare
at the numbers awaken
softly from behind the bars
of zero; 28 in a queen-size bed
batting lashes in bright red lipstick
& it occurs to us that
there might be nothing
behind those numbers
but rooms that house
a ghost of gestures
to make you win
if you aren't attached
to a physical world.

the Lip-Drive

lipstick+usb= Lipdrive

something I can save writings on
& have my lipstick to go.

If I run out of lipstick, then perhaps there'd
be no more spaces left to save documents.

find an engineer at MIT?--that's what Brian Conn said.

41

The body moves
in black satin, you
could imagine
how much leg room
could fit into
K's thought of it; he
takes the pencil
& something moves
his hand, through
the glove
onto the page,
dense matter, an
accumulation of himself
against white
when he draws it
& she walks
as traces of pencil
following the
line of what
he forgot.

Shower Curtain Couture: by Natalia Ryzhova

One of the greatest fashion artists my lovely Nata...

38

An olive green coat
cuts open
just below
the heart; a being
is justified to the middle,
we begin this way
at the center
of a page & come out
to fulfill whatever
spaces are left
unoccupied.

37

K cuts out
the blue
from the sky &
sews it into the
shape of a woman; pale
because tones are
sometimes geographic,
pearl buttons; the
kidney stone, she.
Drinks cranberry vodka
to deal with nature
as it becomes flat
as a screen.

33

The left knee; ⠀
her strut full of forward
slashes, everywhere
handicap in the
back pew of my mind / /,
the ground covered in
discarded beads K will
invent the proper climate
to pray them in.

28

The nylon scratches
at K's frontal lobe; she
struts with one foot
forward, cutting out
an image of herself
before reaching
the pixels it takes
to stand in place.


27

He wants it cut
at the rib cage; the
skin as thin paragraphs
of soft aging; hands
passing through yards
of _________
now exposed for
an audience to read
through a word
clothed in leather; K
watches from the monitor
searching for shadows
left on the ground, not
even she can see
how death is accumulative,
"seconds are softer
than clouds", closes
his eyes and
presses his cheek
against the womb
on her screen.

26

K is 'meticulous' about
chance; low notes
drop throughout his ear
to which outside of it
is just rain to them; a
hallway of mute profiles
stepping inside him, the
back alley
keys black & white
are not enough so he
replaces every other
major note navy blue.

wedding D/R/E/S/S for hair

~` `~
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[ ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; ]
/|| /|\ |\ ||\\
"
/ /__
// h //___ ||l
' '
¿
/|l \\,,
, / p / ///a ?
\
( i / )
)\\\\\\\\\ / ///,,

||| | || || || |||| |||||
.....................r

gonzales keeps his notes clean

excerpts from the Little Black Dress poems, for Karl.

07

He remembers in baby blue,
when Coco first tailored the
woman's suit, except he
lengthens it 6 inches above
the knee because she
had beautiful knees that
were hardly seen; two buttons
conjunct the cap as periods
to keep distance aligned, her
shadow throughout the
base of sport.

06

Only her fingers and face
touch what occupies the air, not
another's; it does not. Belong
to any other place, but that
which enters K's mind; a whiteness
cut by the release of black stiching,
while the rest of us watch
from various degrees. He
stands in the wings holding
a compass in his pocket, not
telling which way to look.

11

She is covered
in lines of restraining order,
as though marked
by solid strokes of sharpie; K
likes the pencil effect of
non-attachment to skin
and conceals every part
with cows & sheep; the
animal detected in
a single line, wearing
its last breath to keep breathing.

16

Hair told me
in one ear to "strut
the sentence like
no one's business" &
she swung her purse
like an exclamation mark
down a short paragraph
of silver sequence 3 inches
above the knee
without turning on the t.v.

14

She walks through
velcro of November,
wind covered
in a cap, listening to
the interior of soft black; she
likes the sound quality
of not thinking, but
being in place while
an audience
moves around her.