Infinity Blues

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Infinity Blues Page 1

by Ryan Adams




  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are a product

  of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living

  or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Akashic Books

  ©2009 Ryan Adams

  Illustrations©2009 Ryan Adams

  ePUB ISBN-13: 978-1-936-07031-2

  Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-933354-74-3

  Paperback Library of Congress Control Number: 2008937347

  Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-933354-83-5

  Hardcover Library of Congress Control Number: 2008938820

  All rights reserved

  Akashic Books

  PO Box 1456

  New York, NY 10009

  [email protected]

  www.akashicbooks.com

  The author would like to acknowledge the following people for inspiration or guidance, whether real or imagined:

  Albert Einstein, Bug, Steve Martin and everyone at Nasty Little Man, David Letterman, Sheila Rogers, Paul Shaffer, and all at the Late Show, Jwlzy, Fire Party, Robert Thurman, Carl Sagan, Margaret Betts, Keith Morris, Stephen King, Jay-Z, Cameron Crowe, the Dalai Lama, Mary-Louise Parker, Amy Lombardi, Tony Dedmond and Hazel Dedmond, Nas, Michele Fleischli, John Silva, and the SAMily, Johnny Temple, Johanna Ingalls, Arielle Cohen, and everyone at Akashic Books, Mark Strand, Dawn Nepp, Josh Grier, Henry Rollins, Mac McCaughan, Brad Pemberton, Neal Casal, and the Cardinals family, Michael Panes, ( ), Voivod, the Boston Red Sox, and the cast and crew of Moonlighting (especially Cybill Shepherd who is eternally hot, like pancakes frying on the hood of a summer Honda).

  Special thanks to comics, girls, and heavy metal (and/or punk rock).

  for Bug

  and for people who still read these things

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Foreword

  CHAPTER 1: BAD IDEAS

  Firestorms Day One

  Home Safe—Heartsickness

  Babycakes

  Annihilator

  To Flame

  Time Ain’t Nobody’s Friend

  For My Father, the Drunk

  I Shot the Lights Out Too

  Million-Year Fuck-Face Convention

  SOS Searchlights

  Night of Bones

  Blue Wars

  Oblivion

  What Is the Password for Summer Again?

  Snow Lady, I Wished You

  Gay As Fuck

  You Will Not Miss Me When I Am Gone

  CHAPTER 2: LOWER-CLASS MYTHOLOGY

  Elf Mountain

  A Death

  One Sharp Ending

  52 Pieces

  A Sister Scowls

  Rain on America

  Becausewhy

  Sisters

  Electric Blue

  Dreamlines for Critics

  Taxi after Taxi …

  Perfect/Seasons

  The Break Bell

  Old People Are Raised/Make Room

  Blueberry Sweat

  oh my we stole the show

  Flickering

  Wow, I’m Insane

  Low Gong Goes the Clouds

  pa-paw special

  Anxiety and Hope

  Return to Santa

  For Your Tears

  Orange

  We Paint Together

  Writing, Dying, for the Trying

  The Statue of Liberty Is French, Asshole

  I Am One of Those

  The Whole Universe Is God’s Shithole Apartment Complex

  CHAPTER 3: INFINITY BLUES

  I REFUSE

  Alit Daffodil

  Baltic Sea

  ha ha ha

  i can see you still

  At a Distance

  Babydoll

  A New Party of One

  did you see?

  i think i thought i loved you

  Your Side Now

  enough rope

  Closed

  Brass

  Terrible

  Carnations

  Goodnight Little One

  Every Time

  Real Fucking Dreams Come True

  Sit Down

  too much night

  infinity blues

  In the Middle of the Night Goes the Bang

  Lighthouse

  The Rushes

  i’m a sick man, buttercup

  I Fucking Miss You

  Hammer It Home, Slugger

  That Door Is Closed

  Cocooned

  Where?

  My Favorite … Ever

  I Make Myself Sick

  Red

  soon it will be time to go

  Spit Hits My Face

  It’s Time

  I Am a Cemetery

  But Still

  Every Day

  skydragon

  CHAPTER 4: CHAPTER 11

  Almost Out

  Cease Fire

  Dream Past This

  BubbleGummed

  i always knew you could do better

  What a “Someone Else’s” Is

  like a werewolf

  New Pieces

  Burn Up

  Chapter Eleven

  Butterbrains

  fuck it all

  giggle

  say something

  27 Steps

  Pretty with Laughter Coming

  By the Words

  A Book of Spells

  Poetry Is a Zombie

  Cinderella

  Tonight, We Ride …

  53 and 38

  c’mon, let’s go

  The Wind-Up

  Land This Bird

  Quicksilver

  Me, Minus Simple Dream

  Tea

  My Price

  i hate myself

  17 Poems a Day

  OK?

  CHAPTER 5: TOMORROW HAPPENS

  Joy

  Orange-Burst

  Fast As Fuck

  Pay Up, and Let the Kids Play You Sissy

  How Spirits Sail

  Fuck That Noise, Jimmy Shoetaps

  Asshole

  Garbage Scepter

  Old Flowers

  Summer

  Whatever Makes Her Happy

  We’re the Worst

  For Charles

  No Movie Tonight

  What If

  Electric Nothings

  War Is Awful

  Fuck You, Mister Know-It-All

  Sand Sea Tide

  My Watch Hates You

  Forget It

  Fruit Gets a Lot of Still-Life Action

  Aplomb

  Do Not Loan Your Heart to Women

  Dreams, God, Albert, and Disappointment

  Foreword

  Once in a life, if a person chooses to go through these things, then maybe the act of writing them down could be a gift, so that others might know that should they suffer their romances or their love of things, they’re not alone.

  I no longer know the author of this book, for simply stopping long enough and writing it down was where I changed from a boy with his eyes squeezed shut to a man with his eyes wide open so that the sunlight might reach my heart despite all that darkness.

  Go forward, be brave, and keep the faith.

  Ryan Adams

  October 2008

  Firestorms Day One

  Hot Georgia Damn,

  i thought;

  almost out loud over a blasting television—

  mantle-mounted and crooked slightly;

  a butterfly is laughing

  wired-born without wings; color-wired

  wired-shaky; riddled with desires and all that nothing to become—

  in a row of blondes

  lined up neck in
neck

  on a beaten couch

  all of them soft as ice cream from a summer county fair

  their faces interrupted not a touch

  until wherever the last once sat

  and the desk interrupted

  the avenue breeze

  grown calmed down from so far up the street

  seeping into the window crack

  all scooby-doo and shit

  like a funky mist

  but that was my heart going TICK TICK TICK

  because

  while they sat

  and my friend drolled over each and every lap and leg

  i saw a video

  by that metal band RATT

  where the guitar player crashes through the ceiling

  to solo

  on a proper dinner

  in an upper-class flat

  and i said,

  “the only thing more punk would be if he stopped and asked,

  ‘is that a de Kooning, you know, a real one and not a print?’”

  like Harry Caray commenting on the Cubs

  and i heard the most incredible laugh—

  then

  i saw a firestorm of slow curls

  and eyes

  the kind that send men packing

  looking my way—

  and i was now like

  moons

  moons crashing into each other—between my teeth

  where there was supposed to be breath

  and the dust

  it just cracked

  into a hopeless swarm of bad ideas

  secret languages

  and future amulettes

  my god

  i thought,

  Hot Georgia Damn;

  and this is where we begin.

  Home Safe—Heartsickness

  home safe

  just get home safe

  heartsickness, my body said,

  my body said stuff, it talked shit like a sewer rat eater

  born in an orchid patch

  glittering STOP signals

  two two

  of me watched

  one down

  two across

  “lonelines s”

  only five letters, and too long

  two words reach across the page of time

  and

  turn it into the reach of time

  destroying this page

  when the fixes are new losses

  apologize

  then get lost

  kind of talk

  i’d tell you i was so wrong

  but how could i

  if i stand in this fire

  over and over

  like

  a bird begging for new beginnings

  to cast more pain

  unto itself

  and shield the colors of sky

  in

  a sad mythology

  of

  southern export-style lies

  riddled

  with stains of honey

  and

  poison.

  Babycakes

  So,

  while you were busy playing cards

  I stole the snakes

  from the suitcase

  Did you win?

  I bet you did

  Either way you made your money back

  Considering, you know

  it’s just cash you would have spent on me

  and drinks

  and mice poison

  or mice

  you know, more mice to feed the snakes

  so maybe poison isn’t right

  and I meant more snacks

  tossed over the pull-blanket

  always in place

  foot-side and glowing blue from movie burns

  Now Listen Up,

  babycakes…

  Before the sun begins to rise

  and that game goes stale

  walk away

  act natural

  use your lipstick for blush if you hit the head and, you know

  go all pale

  and fidget-fingered

  Before you crawl through the floor

  carpet loud red and all

  out the golden door

  into the parking lot of our room

  in that hotel

  and find me gone…

  I took the car

  yes

  But if you act fast you can catch the bus

  to anywhere

  but us

  minus me and the snakes

  and the magic

  in the dust

  good luck

  babycakes,

  may you always win

  for thick claws

  and soft skin

  dry tears

  out the window with my face

  on the sky

  and what is now left of the wind

  the wind of gone.

  Annihilator

  I have nothing left to lose

  and dream loosely before bed

  after I take

  a handful of prescribed medications for sleep

  and over-the-counter vitamins

  I think

  “let me just die” but so quietly inside

  with my quiet voice

  and then tell that voice to hush

  it is what is left of the ghost

  I packed

  and moved out of my body

  on May 7th

  with the help of a somebody ( )

  annihilator

  I have nothing left to lose

  the love of my life

  Blah Blah Blah I think when I write that

  or Hollywood

  I could go there

  because it kills everyone

  equally for the empty coast it fills faces pails

  and like sailboats

  on fire

  in a mouth that will not smile

  and a schedule

  that cracks

  water filling up a boat

  nobody even looks at the plastic pales

  water inside, water outside

  endless “whatevers”

  but who wants to die like that

  A newscaster loses it on live t.v.

  starts screaming “fuck” over and over again

  head in hands

  “we are all going to die alone”

  her wedding ring glistening

  in the middle of a report on adopting kittens

  and the closing of a kill shelter

  in one of the boroughs

  then she says, “trust me”

  and walks off the set

  into consequence

  red trees and faces melted safe

  grandmother safe

  like the lines of her face

  safe

  back to that

  the honeymoon is over and I want to set this place on fire

  something is wrong with me

  annihilator.

  To Flame

  to flame

  i am

  so moth

  to sing

  i am

  so lost

  to lose

  i am

  so win

  so where do we begin?

  no time for stories

  evictions

  on birthdays

  uptown/downtown

  like a job for the sickness inside i have left to rob myself from

  any good work

  actually

  i am not sleeping again

  K.O.ed

  evening declines

  and another break-up

  despite

  the echo of “please, not now”

  this is the finale

  the wind-up

  the blow-off

  the pay-up

  what the shoemaker threw at his wife

  fat basket case of nerves

  hair falling out

  alpha-omega-terminate

  the crack of doom

  the close
/>   last dollar shoved into a sock

  the shutdown

  the knockout of an infection

  that lessens the pain

  as you drift in a hospital bed

  into extinction

  no new beginnings

  to flame

  i am

  so moth

  to sing

  i am

  so lost

  so lost

  to flame

  Time Ain’t Nobody’s Friend

  Without the dress

  she is so empty she sees

  only empty showers with no soap

  and no hot water

  in a hotel room

  her saints immediately become whatever available t.v. personalities

  available

  or maybe

  street people

  visible

  through the disgusting curtains

  either way

  time is nobody’s friend

  you get

  ten kisses, the kind in the air

  if the air were your cheek

  and your face were a balloon

  a bag of air

  fuck if i care, seriously

  the idiot will stop us

  from saying any of this

  all that shit on the street

  that junk, headboards and bedroom stuff

  cars blazing past it on the street

  time is nobody’s friend

  i am sick

  in the head

  all i wish

  is to see you in the morning again

  and this

  this would all be a bad dream

  in a series

  Stephen King would be proud of

  but

  last things first

  first rattle out of the box

  it’s time to open presents

  i got a rattlesnake with ratios and equivalents

  headlines

  to break ice

  ice-breaker goes for his coat

  and opens fire

  and my chest explodes in blood and guts

  plus thimbles next

  you can’t sow back the seeds inside me of bad trees growing bad things

  to throw away against your own personality

  full-on spring, smelling like a rat

  all broken into lies and things to throw out

  without thinking

  like a vanishing point—reappearing again

  and again

  time ain’t nobody’s friend.

  For My Father, the Drunk

  When I shave I save the mustache

  for last

  it reminds me of my dad

  and I wish I had a dagger

  I would put it in my chest

  this is the place

 

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