Infinity Blues
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
info@akashicbooks.com
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
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