Filthy Clean

By Nicholas Conlon

THE LAST AMERICAN POET VOL. III DIRTY NICHOLAS CONLON
Whatever I am feeling at the time I have to go run and write it down or paint it. I think of an image and get it down on paper or canvas 70-95% of what was in my head. If I can't write it, say it or paint it. I'll make it out of found objects on the street or break down matter and put it all back together again. I have literally created things out of thin air. I think we all have done this. I am interested in writing poetry and making art. I love it. It is me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514459515

Nicholas Conlon

Nicholas Conlon was born Nicholas Daniel Farelli in 1975. Without elaborating on that too much; He was born in the infirmary of a penitentiary in a “town” that didn’t exist. 10 years later he was adopted by his step-father Patrick Joseph Conlon. Before the adoption Nicholas grew up in Chicago raised by a single mother, his grandma and grandpa and older sister of 7 years 364 days. He has been painting and writing for over 30 years. Growing up in Chicago, Nicholas learned everything on the streets in a meat and potato, beer and shot, Guns, Gangs and Athletics type of atmosphere. Nicholas was also well educated in the Catholic and public school system including a brief stint in a Benedictine Boarding school in Arkansas, finally finishing his education majoring in Theater at Southern Illinois University. The type of work Nicholas Conlon does is beautiful from afar but up close it’s dirty, torn, ripped 2 dimensional, back slash demented and it’s all over the board. Not one theme, not one style, not one medium. “If I could talk like I write, if I could sing like I dance, if I could paint like I screw, I probably wouldn’t be here right now giving my own artist’s statement. I’d pay some slag a few hundred quid to make me look good. But I can’t. So you got this. If I could only act the way I imagined.” – Nicholas Conlon Original cover photo: Paul Monroe Back page photo: Michael G Michaud

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 by Nicholas Conlon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 02/29/2016

Xlibris

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Just read the book line by line. That’s how it was written and that’s how it should be read. Thank you. –Nicholas Conlon

Contents

Life

Home Sweet Home

Over And Over And Over

I Want To Party

My Eyes Can Hear

My Favorite Flavor

No One

The Time Will Come

A Skinny Tagger Like Fella

Do You Really Know If

Embarrassed

Everytime I Paint My Toenails

Z Neighbors

Art Collector

I Like Good Bars

Just Recently

Kim’s Mom

Useless

Hope

Nats

Smooth On Website

Wool Shop

Your Thoughts Reek

Percentage

Tug Of War

Ukrit Khongkhakul

When An Individual

Wing It

Random’s

Thanks Ridiculous

The Glory Of A Majority

The Last American Indian Man

The Sinew I Own

My Minds Gone

Pearl Jam

Played

St. Martin

Testosterone Juice

Love Actually

My 39Th Birthday

My Friend

Some Blow

Suicide

A Point

Irish Promoter

It’s Like The Old Talk

Jag Off

Lampin’

I Only Hurt The Ones I Love

I Shot The Shit

I Wonder

If You Need Help

I’ll Mo Mou And Lu You

Foundations

I Felt Left Out

I Had To Tell Myself

I Love People

I Never Got You

Charade

Delicate

Ho Hum

I Can Act

Smylie Brothers

Day In A Half

Dosh

Ducking

Fake It

Fancy Pants

A Rare Breed

Anguilla In April

Commercial

Contrary To Popular Belief

What’s His Name

A 12 Year Old Artist

A Birthday Wish

A Man Can Dream

Beverly Hills Adj.

Two Beers And A Bowl

Fruitful

My Heart Is Crumpled

Part Two

Pretty And Nice

Rugged Man

Get It

Obnoxiously Gentle

Some Dear God

Sometimes Equals Always

The Detangler

Glenmorangie On The Rocks

I Pause Before Chiming In

I’m Stiff

Last Time

Nomowo

A Shooting Star

Frida Kahlo

I Genuinely Like Her

I Wrote On Your Back

Rich

Bullets Are Colorblind

Games

Opening Day

She’s Right

The Tickle Of Fear

Speeding Dangerously

The Epitome Of Life

Life

Life.

Sometimes you get sick

Sometimes it rains.

Sometimes your baby can’t stop crying.

All of us.

If you’re lucky.

Some people have never even seen Miami.

Momma said this will get you in.

But this will keep you there.

Face and head respectively.

Ironic.

I got the octopus.

They gave me a leg.

Charged me an arm

He said you should put it on a shirt

I’m from the 80s I thought.

Shit the 70s my God.

Is good to me

To look around

Cause it’s great.

Your cause is not.

You can’t look at the hot shit

You don’t have your readers.

Laughable. Ha Ha Ha.

Nobody fucks with the Nicholas

I’m gonna shit in your pool

Full of flamingos and donuts

Do not go nuts you flamers.

This is all you got!

Life.

Just go on.

HOME SWEET HOME

Cartoon shaped lemons and dry ass teabags

hang out at my crib like a couple uh broke ass niccas.

Bananas get mauled like gorillas by 7 out of the 4 people that live here.

Chicken and watermelon?

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!!

I just threw away the first piece of pounded breast

Panko butter fried fabulousness in four years.

And my little baby would eat the whole container of watermelon

if we didn’t pay her!

All my black clothes are in a pile in the middle of the room AGAIN.

My white clothes smell like that Mexican kid from the park

when he sweats a lot.

I can hear my neighbor trying to out nap a child.

Bitcoin currency ain’t got shit on the sweet smell of a fresh floral baby wipe.

97% of the art is mine. 1% is hers. And the other 2% is stolen I think.

The useless tits of the Wii is out

but the two cartridges fixes it Nintendo is not.

Fuck, Wait no it’s gone.

They’re both gone that’s odd.

But not enough to go looking

Every electronic device in here needs a fucking update.

I realize lying upside down that I need a leveler for the walls

I just saw something crawling.

It’s either really dumb or incredible therapeutic

that I never go to the basement today.

The money tree is all lame and wilted

but it’s also dark out at 230 in the afternoon.

I found the new years balloon that finally died.

Some guacamole and a chip

My grandma and grandpa are just off centerpiece.

below them I realize I’ve read half of half of all of my books.

So I don’t expect half that many people will read this.

But it’s beautiful in my red office,

taking a day off for Presidents’ Day

Not much of what’s on the desk works anyway.

I think I’m gonna play poker with some cyber bullies from the Ukraine.

Ahhhhhhh the euphoric feeling of laying in long johns

on the tropical fruit stained sectional

eating some underrated chocolate with