Rupees 1.4:

I remember India.

The smell of wet burnt fireworks, I could smell from sea.

It was if you could hear the love and chaos from across the Atlantic Ocean.

So many flavors, so many images. Like a library of chaos assembled from ingenuity.

The city, a former French colony.

Like a croissant with chai extract drizzled onto it.

Like a beautiful French woman making a midday curry crepe.

I recall an elephant walking down a brick road.

It has a colony of green growth on itself.

Like a coral reef of mold and disease. Shaped in the stunning architecture of Dubai.

Could you imagine, an elephant!!!

Not at a zoo, but in real life!!

not inactive captivity, but in real urban life!

Could you image, a world where elephants ran down the street?

Where you eat off of banana leaves?

Where hunger taught you to be kind?

I remember India.

Begtse:

I hope these words follow a procession of dahlias littered in your name.

I hope you write every word about how the world belongs to you.

And you.

And you.

And you, and you and you, and me too.

I wanna know when this part of you can be scraped off my skin.

Like adhesive on Rubik's Cubes.

Like men glued to televisions.

Like toddlers glued to their iPhones.


And I saw it in you.

A pure rage. An unspecified disease in your cortex.

Like looking in a mirror. Like getting lost in my heart again.

Like dragging my skin onto concrete to erase the color off of it.

My lover, in now in the form of a butterfly.

Performs acrobatics among the bamboo.

-Austin James

Mykonos:

Sweet boy, I didn’t mean to take everything from you.

I didn’t mean to be your vampire.

It just tasted so damn good.

One could even argue I gave you all of me.

Which is what you bargained for…

I’ll trade you your skin for my property.

I’ll trade you your love for my future.

And to awake upon each other.

Brothers. Lovers. Strangers.

This love of addiction. Is a love of chaos.

The love of her. Is like free form tai-chi.

Like that moment your teeth sink into apricots.

And I know, these walls will not keep you.

Yet, I hope these words will soften you.

Sweet boy, you had tears in your eyes when you left me…

I didn’t understand them until I awoke the next morning without you.

-Austin James

Work It Out Baby:

If I wrote love on every wall. Would you believe me?

If I wrote it enough, would you help me profit off of it?

Could these sweet nothings in my ear be the construction of my destruction?

Your words, like sucrose on my ears. Like agave my nipples.

Your actions, like the open air, beginning to turn to fall.

What do you know of life boy?

Life is work.

life is play.

Life is work.

I watched her and I wrote of you.

I watched her change the candle light like she was inventing electricity.

She dripped wax, like it was anthrax.

Drip drop. Like the early part of a hurricane.

Maybe this love was all a dream?

Like textbook evidence on realty.

Little did they know, when art is involved; the lines begin to blur. .

And I swear to you, I’ll leave my notes on life and love behind the ice cream store...

-Austin James
-Samuel Walter Keller

Bodhisattva (extended):

Sweet boy, did you lose your sanity?

Tell me what broke you?

For me, it was the steels mills in my youth.

The endless sound of industry.

Like a machine set on overdrive.

Did you know you’re not broken?

That you’re becoming?

That you reactivated my heart.

Fortune favors the bold.

The ones willing to step through themselves.

I’ll trade you my zen for your friendship.

-Austin James

At piece with myself

trauma (n) from the Greek, “wound”
traum (n) from the German, “dream”
raum (n) 1. from the German, “expanse, space, room, chamber”
2. a corvine Great Earl of Hell, ruling thirty legions of demons
rau (adj) from the German, “rough”

My heart’s a tart // my head’s a tough // my body cries, // “I’ve had enough!”

My heart’s a tart // my head’s a tough // my body cries, // “I’ve had enough!”

Well that was fun! Who knew your tongue  would taste like antiseptic?  And who’d have guessed I’d be so blessed: You took my heart and kept it.

Well that was fun! Who knew your tongue
would taste like antiseptic?

And who’d have guessed I’d be so blessed:
You took my heart and kept it.

To turn me on you twist me  like a stereo dial You say your head’s a mess I guess that messy’s my style You say my words cut deep  Lover, let’s both take a dive Can’t wait to see which parts of me will make it out alive!

To turn me on you twist me
like a stereo dial
You say your head’s a mess
I guess that messy’s my style
You say my words cut deep
Lover, let’s both take a dive
Can’t wait to see which parts of me
will make it out alive!

Her affect don’t excuse her  Makes me feel like an abuser My boy, if pressed, would choose her  I play games I know I’ll lose, sir

Her affect don’t excuse her
Makes me feel like an abuser
My boy, if pressed, would choose her
I play games I know I’ll lose, sir

I knew I am clumsy with love Still took him home to make it And he called me a pretty word Then three months later, ate it If I could touch his jaw again I’d disarticulate it

I knew I am clumsy with love
Still took him home to make it
And he called me a pretty word
Then three months later, ate it
If I could touch his jaw again
I’d disarticulate it

by Lorca