Girl Band of STEMs

my eyes

 

Girl Band of STEMs, is a lark, a careful ruse about a writer, who comments on her own stories. It is metafiction in a digital world. This, I would argue. The author writes a story about herself, writing a story about her Band, and the Band knows they’re in the story, about a story that interacts with you.  She writes a story, where her audience is her muse – may demand she change the ending, in an installation we build in space — for dreams, on a loop…

The Band asked me to write tags for my work. Tags!  But, opportunity or obstacle… the Muse is insatiable — until it works.  Poets know that tick, when everything becomes art – in a second glance. Woodstock, was absolute freestyle in a digital world. I worked on it for weeks… and wrote it Live one Saturday afternoon – five hundred revisions at least. Poets know that tick. I changed commas to periods and back again  – metaphors to imagery, slowed it down, sped it up. Reminisced. If you were there on that Saturday afternoon, Woodstock was a writer’s tick at work.   I wrote the hook on the 7th Street Bridge.  Installed [Reserved][Reserved] when I lost my way.  Found the beat, marked the spot, and then it looked like a digital art installation, in spite of the implications — for structural functionalism in space. But, my muse is pissed…

Tag: Woodstock.  A Band for Immersive Content.  A Woodstock Experience.

Tag:  Metafiction — [The Dollhouse] with the Red Corvette:  [Vous êtes contrarié parce que je suis sorti du lit. Ce n’était pas ce que tu imaginais – dans le film dans ta tête. Je ne peux pas aller aux toilettes, quitter la pièce ou fumer une cigarette. smh]

Tag:  Tagging Dystopia: [OdamnIwantedtheopportunitytocomefrommichelleO]

Tag:  Aristotle Michelangelo and Louis Picasso’s Parallel Discussions:  Come on baby.  All you have to do is dream — from the end of a pen.

Tag:  Luda’s Second Soliloquy — Miles Language II.  [Metaphor].

Tag:  [For The Purple One]

Tag: [The Life of Pie]  He thought/Big Blue was a deeper trip/Absurd space looked/Absurd from here/He looked around the virtual/And mad shouted/Who read the pieces first?/Anyone?/How did it ring?/How did it feel?/How did it resonate?/She said, I started at the slices/Chaos, straight out the gate/When Big Blue was just/The sky.

Tag:  Picasso The Bohemian (Les Demoiselles d’ Avignon) “…She told halcyon tales of life —  uninterrupted by death and chthonian sex — like the brazen whore in the fore — riding the fugitive cube — with the wasp waist and black aft — Eucharistic grapes, and the curl of the rind — pointing to glorious thighs — and with eyes in the back of her head — she watched the spectator off center… watching — Picasso The Bohemian — who lived in Barcelona — standing behind the curtain — wearing a mask

Tag: Explode [Am I awake, or are you a dream?]

Tag:  The Gaze (WIP)  I know I needed to stay in and listen to music like Paz did and avoid humans — he said, “To read a poem is to hear it with our eyes; to hear it is to see it with our ears.” Instead, I left my home and this is what happened…  Apparently, a new and poorly trained employee provided incorrect information over the phone.  Consequently, I arrived unprepared, and had to return to my vehicle. Because, I had to return to my vehicle (in the rain) parked around the corner — I ultimately, received a ticket for expired meter!  A ticket.  What should have been a $26 transaction is now $76 in this crowded, greedy — unimaginative city!

Tag:  Directing the Master Scene in the Mirror.  It’s impossible to write poetry, without libido.  Without libido, there’s no passion and without passion, there’s no pluck.

 

Black Marnie

Looked like [Mardou Fox]

through Kerouac’s eyes

Remember… those puffy lips?

Yakuza found her in Tokyo

and lost her — in the Philippines….

 

 

[Wait… There’s a surprise at the end]

 

Copyright © 2017, 2018 E Maria Shelton Speller  All rights reserved.

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