People, Places, Things

Because it is now the holiday season and important to be a little cheesy but not so very much cheesy, and because there are poetry-like things in things that aren’t really poems, and because a lot of us have been in other places these days, some thoughts from a guy named William Saroyan: 

Places make us—let’s not imagine that once we’re here anything else does. First genes, then places—after that it’s every man for himself, god help us, and good luck to one and all.

The fascinating thing most likely though is how the same place—a miserable school, for instance, with rotten teachers—bores one man into art, and drives another into crime—the only two arenas we really have: art, making: crime, taking. (The genes, the genes, cries the man who believes inheritance, not environment, does it. But does it? Alone? I have never seen poor people in the slums who were not equal to being instantly clean and refined in a mansion with a million dollars. And take away the millionaire’s money and put him in the slums and how elegant will he be fighting mice and cockroaches?

Yes all well and good perhaps you are saying, but doesn’t that mean that people make me? Of course, but people are places.

(P.S. If you’re looking for a good place to be, one thought: Sycamore.)

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Like Free Bloody Birds

just a little something for today and tomorrow maybe.

High Windows by Philip Larkin

When I see a couple of kids
And guess he’s fucking her and she’s
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise

Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives—
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide

To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought, That’ll be the life;

No God any more, or sweating in the dark

About hell and that, or having to hide   
What you think of the priest. He
And his lot will all go down the long slide
Like free bloody birds. And immediately

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
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Taylor Mali gets typographed.

I’m just like inviting you to join me on the band wagon of my own uncertainty.

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you should be aware

After the apocalypse, Haiti will probably become a superpower, so get on their good side by going to Myriad Creatures’ Benefit for Potters For Peace this Friday in good ol dirty Bushwick.

Here’s some information ’bout it from the facepage:

Join us for our first show, where proceeds from the event will go to build much needed water filters in Haiti and around the world! 

There will be amazing art for sale, great music, and free wine!

Help us put our creative power to good purpose and come party with us! 

Potters For Peace has been assisting in the production worldwide of a low-tech, low-cost, colloidal silver-enhanced ceramic water purifier, shown to effectively eliminate approximately 99.88% of most water born disease agents. $10 at the door 

Featuring the ART of: 

Goga Kuvt
Isabella Constan-Toth
Eric Alonso
Leila Morrissey
Marilyn Rondon
Elizabeth Sweigart

with MUSIC from: 

The Hot Stiffs
Sweet Tooth Nelson 
and Brian James Chepya 

With DJs: Girlbro and Stoopkid 

Come through and enjoy some art for a good cause!


in the meantime, check this glorious Haitian gospel music. you might recognize it from Flatbush Ave. 


Unfortunately, the Post Apocalyptic’s will not be reading at Sycamore this first Tuesday of November, as we will all be strapped to voting booths and sent head first into the sun. We encourage all to do the same. Our regularly scheduled readings will resume in December. Until then, we hope this will tie you over–

Love, us

Fried Chicken. Coin Operated. Fruit for Sale.

A video for you directed, produced, written by, and starring Charly Himmel. One of a kind or kind of a one. Love it or hate it IT’S STILL AN OBSESSION. 

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with love,
nora curry/will machi/ryan skrabalak/margie sarsfield/charly himmel

we wrote this for you.

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We Were On the Radio and Right Now For Sale.

Her name is not Nora Jones, it is Nora Curry, and here you can listen to her voice and some others:

The Poets of the Apocalypse Ride Again, Plus Nora Jones.

also, Ryan Skrabalak, America’s favorite wacky neighbor, is selling editions of his first chapbook, “sz,” each with a different (unique! collectible!) cover. and it is full of beautiful words that will make you feel too many things. it’s a meager 6 dollars, payable by paypal/check/$order. to get on that, message him here, or at his personal blog ( where you will find other writings and things of interest about ryan. or, you may order via e-mail at don’t be a shameful chance-waster.

and in the meantime,

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we’re under construction.

while we scaffold and don our silver helmets around here:

~~~~~next reading~~~~~

tuesday, september 4th, 2012

sycamore bar and flowershop (downstairs)

1118 cortelyou road (q train to cortelyou road)

brooklyn, ny 11218