Joe brainard i remember pdf

Catalogue Poem

For information concerning subsidiary rights to I Remember, please contact Ron Padgett, Literary Executor of the Estate of Joe Brainard, 342 East 13th Street, No. 6, New York, NY 10003.

Printed in the United States of America Cover: Joe Brainard, Untitled, 197 6. Collection of Peter R. Stem. Book design by Amber Phillips

Second printing, November, 2002

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Brainard,Joe, 1942-1994 I remember I Joe Brainard.

p. cm. "Portions of this work were published as I Remember (1970), Remember More (1972) and More I Remember More (1973), by Angel Hair Books"--T.p. verso.

ISBN 1-887123-48-2 1. Brainard, Joe, 1942---Childhood and youth. 2. United States-­

Social life and customs--1945-1970. 3. Authors, American--20th cen­ tury--Biography. 4. Artists--United States--Biography. 5. Memory. I. Title.

PS3552.R275 Z467 2001 811 '.54--dc21

Granary Books, Inc. 307 Seventh Ave. Suite 1401 New York, NY 10001 www.granarybooks.com

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I remember the first time I got a letter that said "After Five Days Return To" on the enve­ lope, and I thought that after I had kept the let­ ter for five d�ys I was supposed to return it to the sender.

· ··

I remember the kick I used to get going through my parents' drawers looking for rub­ bers. (Peacock.)

I remember when polio was the worst thing in the world.

I remember pink dress shirts. And bola ties.

I remember when a kid told me that those sour clover-like leaves we used to eat (with little yellow flowers) tasted so sour because dogs peed on them. I remember that didn't stop me from eating them.

I remember the first drawing I remember doing. It was of a bride with a very long train.

I remember my first cigarette. It was a Kent.

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Up on a hill. In Tulsaj Oklahoma. With Ron Padgett.

I remember my first erections. I thought I had some terrible disease or something.

I remember the only time I ever saw my mother cry. I was eating apricot pie.

I remember how much I cried seeing South Pacific (the movie) three times.

I remember how good a glass of water can taste after a dish of ice cream.

I remember when I got a five-year pin for not missing a single morning of Sunday School for five years. (Methodist.)

I remember when I went to a "come as your favorite person" party as Marilyn Monroe.

I remember one of the first things I rem em­ her. An ice box. (As opposed to a refrigerator.)

I remember white margarine in a plastic bag. And a little package of orange powder. You put the orange powder in the bag with the margarine and you squeezed it all around until the mar­ garine became yellow.

I remember how much I used to stutter.

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I remember how much, in high school, I wanted to be handsome and popular.

I remember when, in high school, if you wore green and yellow on T hursday it meant that you were queer.

I remember when, in high school, I used to stuff a sock in my underwear.

I remember when I decided to be a minister. I don't remember when I decided not to be.

I remember the first time I saw television. Lucille Ball was taking ballet lessons.

I remember the day John Kennedy was shot.

I remember that for my fifth birthday all I wanted was an off-one-shoulder black satin evening gown. I got it. And I wore it to my birth­ day party.

I remember a dream I had recently where John Ashbery said that my Mondrian period paintings were even better than Mondrian.

I remember a dream I have had often of being able to fly. (Without an airplane.)

I remember many dreams of finding gold and jewels.

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I remember "I like the colors."

I remember "You couldn't give it to me."

I remember "It's interesting."

I remember Bermuda shorts and knee­ length socks.

I remember the first time I saw myself in a full-length mirror wearing Bermuda shorts. I never wore them again.

I remember playing doctor with Joyce Vantries. I remember her soft white belly. Her large navel. And her little slit between her legs. I remember rubbing my ear against it.

I remember Lois Lane. And Della Street.

I remember jerking off to sexual fantasies of Troy Donahue with a dark tan in a white bathing suit down by the ocean. (From a movie with Sandra Dee.)

I remember sexual fantasies of making it with a stranger in the woods.

I remember sexual fantasies in white tile shower rooms. Hard and slippery. Abstract and steamy. Wet body to wet body. Slippery, fast, and squeaky.

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I remember sexual fantasies of seducing young country boys (but old enough): Pale and blond and eager.

I remember jerking off to sexual fantasies involving John Kerr. And Montgomery Clift.

I remember a very wet dream with J. J. Mitchell in a boat.

I remember jerking off to visions of body details.

I remember navels. Torso muscles. Hands. Arms with large veins. Small feet. (I like small feet.) And muscular legs.

I remember underarms where the flesh is softer and whiter.

I remember blond heads. White teeth. T hick necks. And certain smiles.

I remember underwear. (I like underwear.) And socks.

I remember the wrinkles and creases of fab­ ric being worn.

I remember tight white T-shirts and the gather of wrinkles from under the arms.

I remember sexual fantasies of old faded

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worn and torn blue jeans and the small areas of flesh revealed. I especially remember torn back pockets with a triangle of soft white bottom showing.

I remember a not very pleasant sexual dream involving Kenward Elmslie's dog Whippoorwill.

I remember green Easter egg grass.

I remember never really believing in the Easter bunny. Or the sandman. Or the tooth fairy.

I remember bright-colored baby chickens. (Dyed.) T hey died very fast. Or ran away. Or something. I just remember that shortly after Easter they disappeared.

I remember farts that smell like old eggs.

I remember one very hot summer day I put ice cubes in my aquarium and all the fish died.

I remember dreams of walking down the street and suddenly realizing that I have no clothes on.

I remember a big black cat named Midnight who got so old and grouchy that my parents had him put to sleep.

I remember making a cross of two sticks for

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something my brother and me buried. It might have been a cat but I think it was a bug or some­ thing.

I remember regretting things I didn't do.

I remember wishing I knew then what I know now.

I remember peach-colored evenings just before dark.

I remember "lavender past. " (He has a . . . )

I remember Greyhound buses at night.

I remember wondering what the bus driver is thinking about.

I remember empty towns. Green tinted win­ dows. And neon signs just as they go off.

I remember (I think) lavender-tinted win­ dows on one bus.

I remember tricycles turned over on front lawns. Snowball bushes. And plastic duck families.

I remember glimpses of activity in orange windows at night.

I remember little cows.

I remember that there is always one soldier on every bus.