New York Tyrant
I want to defend the new Father John Misty album, “That’s Entertainment” or “All That Jazz” or “Misty Schmilsty,” without listening to it. This isn't even hard. In the words of Handsome Dick Manitoba: “This just a hobby for me.” Imagine if the Bob Dylan lyric “I said, “’You know they refused Jesus, too’ He said, ‘You're not Him’” was about you but you were Jesus. Or at least the white Jesus. That’s what it’s like to be Father John Misty. Father John Misty, former godly post-rocker, now a man who renders unto Caesar like it’s his job. He just discovered the world outside...
He doesn’t say things like “Your old man” much, but sometimes he does. Or he’ll call me sport, or champ, mostly when I do something dumb. One time I light a whole book of matches on fire and throw it on the floor and stomp on it. It leaves a black spot and my dad says, “You really just did that, huh.”
I was walking home through downtown St. Pete, sweating badly.
This older guy crossed paths with me near a concrete ledge overlooking an area of creek.
'Man, goddamn it,' he said, stopping by me as though we'd already been talking.
I stopped too.
'This motherfucker….' he said, gesturing out somewhere.
He had faded tattoos and big, raw pock marks all over his arms.
In 1977, my parents bought a house on a busy street. The home fell inside of a half-square mile oddity of land and bureaucratic mishap that the locals called Skevanston. This real estate snafu allowed people like my parents to buy a better valued home in the city of Evanston’s school district while paying the town of Skokie’s lower property taxes. I came into the home in 1984, as the fourth child and only boy. Across the street from us was a large field loomed over by a tall tree that grew blackberries the size of cicadas. They rotted in...
That in four years I've gone to six art openings, three mine, one my wife's, two my best friends. Did you know that was possible? To just stay home and work?
I wanted to write a love poem
the most impossible thing
and I did
and it wasn’t hard
and afterward I took a walk
and nothing seemed hard.
If time is money
and I don't have money
then I don't have time
for your bullshit
Yesterday you went to the desert
I put on Brahms channel
and washed the tub
my fur stood up
seeing your picture
in my feed
pool boys change your towels
another violent news cycle
you’re partying with a friend
does a mountain still get her period?
I wanna b a racoon
but still date Donny H. like I do now
I see two earths in my eyes in Art Class
in teacher’s mirror
if I go to college, I need it to be Dance College
where I can major in Sex
“It’s just a chicken,” I said.
“You’re a chicken,” she said.
Pug — Pugs are generally short. Fat. Slow. They can't breathe. Dull teeth and bad breath. Eyes that fall out sometimes. Similar in size and temperament to a mutated regulation NFL football just sitting there wobbling. Our pug was like that, but also, she was obsessed with flipping rocks and eating whatever slimy or crunchy things were under the rocks. Our back yard fence was lined with flower beds edged from jetty rock, and spring, summer, fall, our pug walked in a continuous loop sniffing and then flipping the jetty rocks, which were almost as big as her. Under...
Hi everyone, The function of this post is to provide an easily accessible, organized list of everything I publish this month, for people to enjoy in the future. I will continually update it as the month goes along. Here is a similar post containing links to everything I published in December: https://nytyrant.com/blogs/new-york-tyrant-blog/december-tyrant-jordan-castro Thank you, Jordan *** Some Dogs I Know by Bud Smith, illustrations by Rae BuleriInterview for the Position of Grand Inquisitor by Ken BaumannChicken by Brandon HobsonThree Poems by Rachel B. GlaserTupac Dies in the End by Noah CiceroWET HAIR by Ben FamaOffice Day by Sarah Rose EtterI Know About Micrograms Now by Tao LinFive Poems by Sam...