Filip Marinovich


In my home movie I play the ogre
Makeshift Spaceship. The opening
Shot is of pine tree tops at night and con-
Stellations. At the Astor Place Gym on
Astralplatz the guards almost don’t let me in
I look so alien even when I show my pass-
Port I’m taken in for questioning
And to test my blood for empathogens
I must be insane to trust one doctor
In the Eichmann States of American Ice.
Crack the icetray and my back
Take the cubes from both
Cool your drink with them
You will have a boat
Escape then
And don’t ever come back to the Ellis Island Gym
Or the mainland behind it
Smoking financial district column teeth.


This fucking week
Suffering and structure
Saturn square Neptune
Silver wingtips of turkey vulture
Turning his beak in the ignition
Of the hearse rattling over the back porch for a soundcheck
Burial mound concert on the deck free
If you are inviting me
I’m the guest host communion paper
You can still have your shuttlecock eyes
Red on impact
The babyseat tested with a rubber baby dummy
Whom I ventriloquize
I cannot relate to that trial positioning
Can we borrow your sunscreen doggy


Fuck orange garbage face uranium cake
I am not going to let him get me sick
In the head or anywhere else
I will resist with my health and my sex and my nerve and my wit
I give thanks for the rich material to work with!
I eat the uranium cake and spit it back in his face
The globe detonates.
It is a wonderful dream and it does not do anything.
Marches give me panic attacks and
Not marching makes me hate myself into coffin bed.
I don’t know how to be with the collective
How is it not a mob again
Even if i believe in its message
Remind me
I dissolve in it and feel great
And come home with no skeleton
My hoof and red deer leg dangle on a tree branch
My skeleton dries on the telephone line
When it is washed by the wind and dried by the rain
I will pick it up and wear it again
Needs a skeleton
Eat a femur and a tibia for lunch
A metatarsle and an ankle bone
The marrow pours out of the kitchen faucet
With the fracking flames in Pennsylvania Manhattan Yugoslavia
Bootcamp perfume
The bunkbeds give up their bedbugs as soon as you lie down on them
Thus you have been a cleaning agent
Hygeine killing death dead
It already is
You’ve done nothing yet
You can’t do it alone
What is it
Unknown unknown
Unknown yet
Crowning now
Baby How and her twin
Sister Wow


woof woof death
I liked you best
when I was eighteen
you were a literary metaphor
and hadn’t yet killed my grandfather
my grand uncle my other grandfather
my grandmother and my dog sonny
I hated you then most
why name the dog and not the people
woof woof woof woof woof woof woof

Filip Marinovich

Filip Marinovich is the author of WOLFMAN LIBRARIAN, AND IF YOU DON’T GO CRAZY I’LL MEET YOU HERE TOMORROW, ZERO READERSHIP. His new book THE SUITCASE TREE is forthcoming from The Operating System. He teaches the poetry seminar QUEERING POETS BY SUN SIGN at The Page Poetry Parlor in Chelsea Manhattan.