watch me read

the karl marx klub

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what i was reading at the karl marx klub on 10/05:



what mendacity is this that proclaimed itself thus upon my bereavement? It is a cold bluster of mind that turns to keep a man's soul from ascent.

This is the way of Marstrand—passing five sins to Marga^re|t.  She is of consequence in her plastic arcade.  Some whisper in search of favorite colors and numbers and I am that boy.  Someone made the cave.  Someone made the footpath to the slave.  Someone made the slave.  It was all still and then she flew.  In the cave pictures of new animals (they say we were almost apart).
There is a noise that reminds me of my loss. Those missing on the ferry to Marstrand.  The walk by the water and rocks.  The fell.  My loss saved in half bubbles floating in puddles of rain.  The boats painted [yellow and blue] with ropes drifting out to the boy. 

I am entering now.  The place.  The skin beneath her skin that I touch (more than touch, more than skin) in the room above the sea where the bones of men mingle with those of animals.

The Karl Marx cenotaph outside the Karl Marx Klub had been peed on.  The message scrawled on it read “go back to Russia” (Russia? хи хи).   The Klub owners liked to think of the Klub as the most subversive meeting place in America but the two times I had been there  I didn’t see much subversion.  One night I was there, there was a members-only karaoke night.  I had to leave at 10 pm when the singing started.  The only other time I had been there was when my last book “The Unknowed Things” was published back in 2009.  I didn’t see anything crazy or subversive going on.  People were drinking and talking like they would anywhere.  I put it on my list of places to read on my current reading tour because I always thought it was such an odd place.  Unfortunately, The Karl Marx Klub has closed down.  The closing was unexpected apparently.  One story was that the owner moved back to Vermont to be closer to his children.  Another story was that he needed to make more money to pay his child support.  The place was still being packed up—there were boxes everywhere—so I decided to read a little bit in there before the doors closed for good.  I sat down on the floor and got comfortable against a few of the boxes and read for a few minutes before the movers basically asked me to get out of their way.  I suppose they did watch me read while they were shuffling in and out.