DADDY SANDMAN

ANDREA ABI-KARAM

& we all melted into hot water
just before the boiling point
all hot water & skin & glasses of champagne
echoes of what we took from w/hole foods
@ the march so many times before
this is a different kind of march
we don’t steal anything
just space on the street—temporarily—
that’s not even ours to take really
but we take it back from the city—temporarily—
overflow & widen
the vastness of us
uncontainable
by curb or infrastructure stripes or cops
we cascade through blocks & hills & 5 point intersections
heads thrown back in pleasure—temporarily—
@ the sight of our endlessness
wrapping up the foggy city
wide with desire
maybe it’s candy or maraschino cherry
maybe it came not from the ground but a factory
trans*ported through the veins of global capitalism
to bob in each of our glasses filled w
champagne we used to steal
when w/hole foods was still just a proud grocery store
before it became amazon footsoldier
maybe it’s candy or maraschino
stolen & carried through TSA
too much liquid (cum oozes from my filaments)
too many ??? (plastick surgery overwritten anatomy)
but still we made it to the party
knew where it was without
maps or cell service
drawn toward
chain to magnet
we know our ins are limited
daddy sandman
clicks through summer so steady

traces of pathways intersect
outer layers of collision
new circuits carved in skin
a freshly drawn geography
situationist sketch
thick scabs
more permanent than what
daddy sandman leaves us with
traces of desire’s aftermath
sternal mold
complete taxonomy of
each peak & every jagged edge
that adorn yr hands
all tearing at each other
get a little closer
remove the millimeters of distance
skin affords
we exceed the limits
of daddy sandman’s precise rhythms
forego sleep & eating
there’s no time for maintenance
when it will all be over so soon
quick visit 2 our
fantasy harddrives
suspend certain n33ds
merge on 2 freeway
overdrive nerves sparking
network visible from within
bright links in the night

we exist @ the edges of this magnetism
for quite some time
occasionally stepping toward temporary
network field abandoned building freeway
anyeurism where our fantasies are held
& finally into /
/rupture/
it manifests first as
a lot of texting & a lot of partying
a lot of incisions on the surface splitting it
open to the layer beneath where our
connections to each other become more
visible
turn on the blacklight
turn off the overhead

cables threaded underfoot
bones in feet adjusting to the
interruptions

turn off the scene light
turn on the stage lights

sharing is different than
what people take from you

sharing is dif
than what the [_____] takes from you

ligaments tighten
to calcification
against the brace of impact
& splinter
away from the concrete center

be
noise
clog
big daddy mainframe

be
noise
short out
the sandman
widen the clicks between
moments

skywriting that says
we want more than one weekend a year
where a mass shooting might occur

project on the side of the stadium
the way you fuck is boring but you still don’t get to watch

write in wet concrete
kick cops out of pride
or better yet
we make a world without them

draw in the sand on fire island
RIP Kevin Killian

spray paint
fucking everywhere
queer liberation means a world without prisons

dig in to the surface of my sternum
hold my hand through the flash bangs
& i’ll hold yours thru the flogging
leather with metal studded edges
leave nice purple bruises
gridded nodes glow
mathematical array
of desire & resistance
i buckle my
bulletproof, studded
vest
& melt in2
the mass

ANDREA ABI-KARAM is an arab-american genderqueer punk poet-performer cyborg, writing on the art of killing bros, the intricacies of cyborg bodies, trauma & delayed healing. Their chapbook, THE AFTERMATH (Commune Editions), attempts to queer Fanon’s vision of how poetry fails to inspire revolution. Andrea’s first book, EXTRATRANSMISSION [Kelsey Street Press, 2019], is a poetic critique of the U.S. military’s role in the War on Terror. They are a leo currently obsessed with queer terror & convertibles.

 

Photo credit: Lix Z

TINY SPILLS
  • Your sign:
    leo, gemini rising, sag moon
  • Favorite lyric:
    i’ve been fantasizing about a porsche

  • Any place in the world:
    secret backyard halfpipe in indiana

  • Best breakfast: diner breakfast:
    french toast, eggs, bottomless coffee

  • Favorite online places right now:
    tbh grey’s anatomy & daria

  • Your rituals (writing or not):
    timed interval free writing
  • Favorite space to write:
    while on tour &/or playground coffee shop in brooklyn

  • Best book nobody talks about:
    the creamsicle by rihannon argo