Covert Collaborations

About a month ago my neighbor graduated from CU, got a job in Denver, and moved away. His lease wasn’t up yet so he sublet his place to some random duchebags he found on Craig’s List. I won’t go into any specifics as to their asshole-ee-ness or what may or may not have happened to them in their childhood that turned them into such insensitive dumb-ass ignorant loud as shit disrespectful date-raping punks. We don’t have time for that here.

What I will say is that 1. They’re gone now, so fuck ‘em and 2. Before they left they said a lot of dumb shit while stumbling around in their back yard, some of which, while sitting on my deck in the dark unbeknownst to them,  I wrote down.

Which brings us to this weeks Poetry assignment. Covert Cut-ups. With a bit of one-way collaboration thrown in. It involves leaving the cozy safety of your own apartment and wandering out into the big crowded word out there, where every second of every minute somewhere, people say the goddamn’dest damn things.

Bars are good places to complete this sort of assignment. Or restaurants. The fucking mall. A dog shit littered park. Holy crap! You can go to Whole Foods! That’s a good one. People say some pretty fucked up shit in that place! It scares me sometimes, everyone shuffling around like neon spandex wearing zombies, with their goddamn pelvic bones prodruding dangerously from their way too tight bike shorts, I fucking dare somebody to go in and write one of these things at Whole Foods. I fucking dare you! And now that that particular dare has been issued—let’s move on…

Find somebody who’s talking ridiculously. It won’t take you long. Then sit down and jot down bits and pieces of what they’re saying. And when they pause to take a bite of their Biggy Bacon Burger or give whoever they might be pestering a couple minutes to respond to whatever the hell they've been saying, jot down a line of your own, using the same voice and tone of your subject. And then when you’ve got a couple pages worth of stuff take them home, shake them up, rearrange some bits, chop stuff up, and then type it all up and see what comes out.

I’ve pasted an example below. It’s taken mostly from things said by my fucking neighbor, talking to some woman he used to know, the night before he moved out. Mixed in with a couple of lines here or there written by either myself or Caroline Litwinski, who was also out there on the deck with me while the phone call took place and was a first person witness to everything that went down.

It’s a pretty good exercise for writing in alternate voices. And it can be a lot of fun. So go out there and write your own covert cut-up collaboration poem and bring it to the Wed night reading at the Burnt Toast this week, or post it on Illiterate Magazine. Or do both.

until next time

iloveyou,

Rob
     

Drunk Guy on Phone at 2 a.m. Trying to Talk His Ex-Girlfriend
Into Driving Over To His Place To Fuck Him Covert Cut-up Collab

Hey baby, is this you?
I knew it!
That’s why I called you!

This is my last night In Boulder;

and I fucking Love Jack Daniels

I do

and your hot too

Do you know what I’ve done to your sweater?!
The one that you left in my car, that one time?

That’s right!

I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think

you were cool

well where are you right now?

because you can come here

This is my last night in Boulder

and I’d really like you

to blow me

are you in Boulder even

right now

because this is my last night

in Boulder

a spur of the moment whim

There’s nothing I’d like more

than to fuck the living crap out of you.

It was really a great time

I thought you were hot as fuck

I thought a lot of shit about you

I’m in Boulder

land of women

and I’m talking to you

on the phone

what does that say about things?
things having to do with Nacho Chips?

Damn right I’m a Martyr!

A Martyr of what?
Not eating Nacho Chips!
I’m a martyr of not eating

                               Nacho Chips

Because it’s 2 in the morning and we just

got back from the hookah bar

and did I mention that it’s my last night

in Boulder?

I mean, we’re out of them over here
Chips

That’s why I’m not eating any

Could you bring me some?
When you come over to blow me?

That’d be awesome, because

my buddy fucked this chick

last weekend

Three Times in a row!

and she totally bought him chicken wings after

it was awesome

Could you do something like that?
I mean,

no no no no

I’d love for you

to be a part

of my life

but whatever

 Ok, but

my other cock is totally functional!

I’m literally looking at it

right now!

you were one second away

from being psychotic

as I remember

No I did not tell you the last time

I saw you that if I ever saw you again

I’d fuck your cat!

No I did not tell you that!

choke choke

I’m not afraid of a single

one of your family members

I just want to, wait! Did I tell you?!
This is my last night in Boulder!

What are you doing?

Would you like to bring me nachos
and then fuck me

and then, I don’t know, leave?

No, that’s great
So what are you saying?
So you’re not coming over?
You don’t know what you’re missing

or I guess maybe you do

No that’s fine and stuff
whatever

talk to me in a year

or  five months

so I’m gonna get off the phone