Poetry by Felix Kalmenson

Istvan's Contours:

Stuck-up,
legs open, mouth wide,
look at the wide-eyed vomit eyes,
bloody ears, crusty nails,
glossy shoes,
gibber jabber the bile they slather,
penetrating since 1956.

if da Vinci had gonorrhea and a healthy heroin addiction he would probably eat cheeseburgers.
I think I'm an alcoholic,
but Thomas would say I’m delusional,
Asiatic space aliens and keyboard
stapping a tune of happy hardcore,
lip chewing, glow stick waving, demented shit.

got a buzz I see,
couldn't stand all the looks you were getting at the old home?
Neoism, ism, Dada rip-off, Alice Cooper of art,
contrary to rejection, close an eye and put one through the other,
my respect is filed in your cabinets of feces.




Felix Kalmenson was born in St. Petersburg and his family moved to Canada in 93' to escape the degrading conditions of post-soviet Russia. He lived in a dingy apartment with his single mother and brother for most of his childhood, as his mother re-established herself in Medicine. His family moved to the suburbs in his teens as his mother remarried. Life was dull and he became cynical, escaping into books, film and art. He now goes to the University of Toronto. While traveling extensively across America, Canada and some of Europe and working in numerous hard manual labor jobs, he began writing as an escape and a form of spontaneous expression. Along with writing he also is a photographer, visual artist, and amateur film-maker.websites include: