Friday Ephemera
One More Before The Holidays

Your Failure To Enthuse Is Violence, Apparently

Mr Roy G Guzmán, whose tweet appears below, describes himself as “a marginalised writer,” and an “artist and influencer,” thereby signalling to lower beings both his suffering and his modesty. He’s also, it seems, a tad sensitive:

The unhappy artist.

Note the gratuitous use of white woman. Perhaps that tells us something about Mr Guzmán’s poetic soul. A sample of Mr Guzmán’s creative output, titled Queerodactyl, is reproduced in full below. But before we venture further, you may wish to grip the arms of your chair:


            My heart was a dystopian

berry budding in water tiger

lilies claiming

            hocus-pocus wonder. I was broken

vanity, vixen vase, victorious tête-

à-tête — the Scrabble game nobody won

            because the tiles aspired speculums.

Ocean-misaligned brook / brook-misaligned


— where else could these gospels have dawned

if not in the bellies of men

hyenaing a becoming?

                                    Twerking in church,

I outperformed the candles

diarized in the simpleminded annexation.       Wussup,


with the veiniest homebound

                                                pika-pika aim?

Wussup, Sims

              Chumbawamba Family Portrait Simulation?

                        St. Sunny of the Sissies

beheld the bukkake throng

                         of mojo-coated cartilage


               on the refurbished bunk

for new cetaceans. A dazzling jeremiad

               shone me dead

until I gridlocked the algebraic expressions

                of my body in question marks.

                            These syndicated fiyahs

stigmatized my herculean magma


                  but I held these walls apart,

every inch of my mascara cut off

                                                    apple pie.

              You watched me hobble home

while the streets coalesced magenta. Tell Momma

                    the holes I cover with one error

swell — & there are only inadvertent landscapes

                   to dollop with nonetheless.


I’ll give you a moment to process that. To internalise its immensity.

Mr Guzmán tells us that he “holds degrees from the University of Minnesota, Dartmouth College, the University of Chicago, and the Honors College at Miami Dade College,” and is “pursuing a PhD in Cultural Studies (Comparative Studies in Discourse and Society) at the University of Minnesota.” Mr Guzmán is now violently blocking lots of people on Twitter

Update, via the comments:

After dismissing the recent, rather negative appraisals of his poetry as driven by “toxic masculinity” and “(white) male fragility” - no other possibilities being conceivable, of course - Mr Guzmán has apparently retired from Twitter. We are, it seems, a terrible disappointment to him. Such are the travails of artistic genius. Or rather, such are the effects of spending so much time in the Clown Quarter of academia, where narcissism and flummery are indulged - and consequently being ill-prepared for anything approaching honesty.

Via sk60.