'You have ... ..


 You were always a  telephone booth ,
You were always asleuth now is your chance glow 
in the dark the fist and fraudulent capers undo day upbeats

give nothing what's taken back-to-back sans gift sans home or purse
  pruning the tree hurting the bumble bee your love is merit Metis to the forest
       nutshells scraped smooth with weeds unbearable frosts fleas fleas the 
           Canadian land roughed out by barrier grit and grief a girl snow melting ice caps
           tundras an fox detours of guilbeault farrier portage next the porter's will
                    this combine light lays out the moon's critical poise its reference
                                  above and below
                                   never marking anything less than sorrow

           you pick out the scent sort out the clues it's all motive, money money typewriters
              real estate swimming pools movie star moguls holding out for more till the ass gleaming golden spice this is the view the point being you
                          Detective love are sharing the loot and the cops aren't
                              that makes you a hard guy full of love
                                     not a fall guy filled with fear

Caps the are tree to the fall out full real less not porter's the the money what's more sans the telephone is ass purse the love poise merit Metis always love that moon's moguls a bumble spice marking scraped and your pools you aren't 

You reference for guy anything and typewriters now the loot a point sans view the nutshells makes of its were hard or light nothing guy girl fraudulent snow detours the clues you undo above till the unbearable fleas home always fleas hurting holding the give back tundras this farrier estate pick were 

taken being next combine of gift fear sharing the portage chance you frosts booth with the sorrow is than an forest below cops bee ice love fist day You roughed with lays money out a melting movie capers this grief is fox a all out grit motive smooth the swimming by will barrier dark star critical in 

gleaming Canadian pruning out glow to upbeats the back and golden and scent land out. Scent land out

Moonlanding W H AudeN

wh  Auden's poem about the 1st


  It's natural the Boys should whoop it up for
    so huge a phallic triumph, an adventure
        it would not have occurred to women
        to think worth while, made possible only

    because we like huddling in gangs and knowing
    the exact time: yes, our sex may in fairness
        hurrah the deed, although the motives
        that primed it were somewhat less than menschlich.

    A grand gesture. But what does it period?
    What does it osse? We were always adroiter
        with objects than lives, and more facile
        at courage than kindness: from the moment

    the first flint was flaked this landing was merely
    a matter of time. But our selves, like Adam's,
        still don't fit us exactly, modern
        only in this---our lack of decorum.

    Homer's heroes were certainly no braver
    than our Trio, but more fortunate: Hector
        was excused the insult of having
        his valor covered by television.

    Worth going to see? I can well believe it.
    Worth seeing? Mneh! I once rode through a desert
        and was not charmed: give me a watered
        lively garden, remote from blatherers

    about the New, the von Brauns and their ilk, where
    on August mornings I can count the morning
        glories where to die has a meaning,
        and no engine can shift my perspective.

    Unsmudged, thank God, my Moon still queens the Heavens
    as She ebbs and fulls, a Presence to glop at,
        Her Old Man, made of grit not protein,
        still visits my Austrian several

    with His old detachment, and the old warnings
    still have power to scare me: Hybris comes to
        an ugly finish, Irreverence
        is a greater oaf than Superstition.

    Our apparatniks will continue making
    the usual squalid mess called History:
        all we can pray for is that artists,
        chefs and saints may still appear to blithe it.

 W.H. Auden

Alain Badiou: Lessons of the ‘Yellow Vests’ Movement

 Alain Badiou has written this powerful article about the yellow vest(er)s.  Interestingly enough Badiou   ( and unlike his admirer Zizek)  has kept  faith with his vision of communism ___ The following  article is (from Verso books blog )  represents as fine an articulation of contemporary leftist thought as one can hope for in the present context of chaos and nihilistic cyncism.

Yellowvests1-What are we to think – what we call thinking, not running around barking – of the violent, abiding contradiction between the yellow vests movement and the state authorities led by little President Macron?

At the last round of the Presidential elections, I made it clear that I will never rally either (of course) to Marine Le Pen, captain of the parliamentary extreme right, or to Macron, who was mounting what I have called a ‘democratic coup d’état’ in the pseudo-reformist service of big capital.
Today, there is obviously nothing in my judgement of Macron I would want to change: I despise him unreservedly. But what to make of the yellow vests movement? I must confess that when it started last year I could find nothing in it – in terms of its make-up, claims or practices – that is politically innovative or progressive.

That there are numerous reasons for this revolt, and that the movement may therefore be regarded as legitimate, is something I grant without hesitation. I am aware of the depopulation of rural areas, the sad silence of abandoned streets in small and even medium-sized towns; the continuous removal for masses of people of public services, which are gradually being privatized: health centres, hospitals, schools, post offices, train stations, telephones. I know that pauperization, initially creeping and then accelerated, is affecting sections of the population that forty years ago still enjoyed almost

continually increasing spending power. I am well aware that material existence is becoming a headache for whole families, especially for many women, who are highly active in the yellow vests movement.
In short, in France there is a very high level of discontent on the part of what we might call the labouring part of the middle class, provincial in the main and with a modest income. The yellow vests movement is a significant representation of this discontent in the form of active, vehement revolt.
For those willing to attend to them, the historico-economic reasons for this uprising are perfectly clear. Moreover, they explain why the yellow vests date the onset of their woes to forty years ago: crudely, the 1980s, which marked the onset of a long capitalist-oligarchical counter-revolution, incorrectly dubbed ‘neo-liberal’ when it is liberal full stop. Which means: a return to the savagery of nineteenth-century capitalism. This counter-revolution occurred in response to the ten ‘red years’ – roughly 1965–75 – whose French epicentre was May 68 and whose global epicentre was the Cultural Revolution in China.  But it was considerably accelerated by the

collapse of the global enterprise of communism in the USSR and then China: nothing on a world scale now opposed capitalism and its profiteers, in particular the trans-national oligarchy of billionaires, wielding unlimited

Of course, the French bourgeoisie followed the counter-revolutionary

movement. It was even an intellectual and political capital of it, with the antics of the ‘new philosophers’, who ensured that the communist Idea was everywhere pursued as not merely false but criminal. Numerous intellectuals, renegades from May 68 and Maoism, were conscientious guard dogs of the bourgeois and liberal counter-revolution, under such fetishistic, inoffensive etiquettes as ‘liberty’, ‘democracy’ or ‘our republic’.

Meanwhile, from the 1980s to the present France’s situation has gradually deteriorated. This country is no longer what it was during the trente glorieuses of post-war reconstruction. France is no longer a strong world power, a conquering imperialism. Today, it is frequently compared to Italy or even Greece. Competition is causing it to fall back everywhere; its colonial rent is on its last legs and requires innumerably military operations in Africa, which are costly and uncertain, to maintain it. In addition, as the cost of working-class labour power is much lower in Asia, for example, large factories are gradually being relocated abroad. This massive deindustrialization entails a sort of social degradation extending from whole regions, such as Lorraine and its steelmaking or the North of textile factories and coal mines, to the Parisian suburbs, abandoned to property speculation on the countless wastelands left behind by ruined industries.

The consequence of all this is that the French bourgeoisie – its dominant oligarchy, the shareholders of the CAC 40 – can no longer maintain a politically servile middle class on the same footing as before, notably before the 2008 crisis. That middle class was an almost constant historical support of the electoral pre-eminence of the various right wings – a pre-eminence directed against the organized workers of the great industrial concentrations, tempted by communism between the 1920s and the 1980s and 90s. Hence the current uprising by a significant popular section of this middle class, which feels it has been abandoned, against Macron, who is the agent of local capitalist ‘modernization’ – meaning: tightening the screw everywhere, economizing, imposing austerity, privatizing without any of the consideration that still existed thirty years ago for middle-class comfort in exchange for their consent to the dominant system.

The yellow vests, pleading their all too real pauperization, want to be paid a high price for this consent once again. But this is absurd precisely because Macronism results from the fact that the oligarchy, firstly, has had less need of middle-class support, which was expensive to finance, since the communist danger disappeared; and secondly, no longer has the resources to pay for an electoral domestic staff on the same scale.  And it therefore has to shift, under the cover of ‘indispensable reforms’, towards an authoritarian politics: a new form of state power will serve as a support for lucrative ‘austerity’, extended from the popular class of the unemployed and workers to the lower strata of the middle class. And this for the benefit for the real masters of this world – namely, the principal shareholders of the major groups in industry, commerce, raw materials, transport and communications.

In the Communist Manifesto, written in 1848, Marx had already examined this kind of conjuncture and referred, in essence accurately, to what are today’s yellow vests. He wrote this: ‘The lower middle class, the small manufacturer, the shopkeeper, the artisan, the peasant, all these fight against the bourgeoisie, to save from extinction their existence as fractions of the middle class. They are therefore not revolutionary, but conservative.  Nay more, they are reactionary, for they try to roll back the wheel of history.’

They strive all the more bitterly today because the French bourgeoisie is no longer in a position, given the turn taken by globalized capitalism, to maintain, let alone increase, their spending power. It is true that the yellow vests ‘fight against the bourgeoisie’, as Marx puts it. But they do so to restore an old, outdated order, not to invent a new social and political order, whose names have been ‘socialism’ or, above all, ‘communism’ since the nineteenth century. For close on two centuries anything that was not more or less defined in accordance with a revolutionary orientation was quite rightly regarded as pertaining to capitalist reaction. In politics, there are only two main roads. We must absolutely return to this conviction: two ways in politics, only two, and never a ‘democratic’ dusting of pseudo-tendencies under the leadership of a self-proclaimed ‘liberal’ oligarchy.

These general considerations enable us to revert to the concrete characteristics of the yellow vest movement.  Its spontaneous characteristics so to speak – those not attributable to interventions external to the main current of the uprising – are indeed ‘reactionary’ as Marx puts it, but in a more modern sense: we might term the movement’s subjectivity a popular individualism mobilizing personal anger at the new forms of servitude imposed by the dictatorship of Capital today.

That is why it is wrong to say, as do some, that the yellow vest movement is intrinsically fascist. No: fascism invariably organizes identitarian, national or racist themes in a highly disciplined, even militarized, way.  In the present rising, which is unorganized – as the urban middle class always is – and, by dint of this, individualistic, there are people of all sorts, all occupations, who often sincerely think of themselves as democrats, who appeal to the laws of the Republic – which in France today costs nothing. In truth, among the great majority of them, specifically political convictions are fluid. But considering the movement – once again as it presents itself in its initial ‘purity’ – on the basis of its rare collective aspects, slogans, repeated statements, I find nothing in it that speaks to me, interests me, mobilizes me. Their declarations, their perilous disorganization, their forms of actions, their deliberate lack of general thinking and strategic vision – all this precludes political creativity. I am certainly not won over by their hostility to any embodied leadership, their obsessive fear of centralization, of unified collectives – a fear that confuses, as do all contemporary reactionaries, democracy and individualism.  None of this is likely to pit against the utterly odious, despicable Macron a force that is progressive, innovative and victorious in the long run.

I know that right-wing opponents of the movement, particularly among renegade intellectuals, ex-revolutionaries who became champions of police powers once the oligarchy and the state guaranteed them platforms for their liberal waffle, accuse the ‘yellow vest’ uprising of anti-Semitism or homophobia, or of being a ‘threat to our Republic’. I also know that, if there are traces of all that, they are the result not of a shared belief, but of the presence, the active infiltration, of the extreme right in a movement so disorganized that it is vulnerable to every conceivable kind of manipulation.

Ultimately, though, let’s not bury our heads in the sand: various indications, particularly of clear traces of short-term nationalism, latent hostility to intellectuals, demagogic ‘democratism’ in the crypto-fascist style of ‘the people against the elites’, and discursive confusion, should prompt anyone to be cautious about an unduly general assessment of what is happening today. Let us agree that with ‘social network’ gossip replacing objective information for the majority of yellow vests, the upshot is that ludicrous conspiracy theory impulses circulate throughout the movement.

An old adage states that ‘not everything that moves ahead is red’ [tout ce qui bouge n’est pas rouge]. And for now, there is no sign of red in the yellow vest movement, which moves all right. Aside from yellow, I see only the tricolour, which is always rather suspect in my eyes.

Obviously, ultra-leftists, antifas, the awakened sleepers of Nuit debout, and those always on the look-out for a ‘movement’ to get their teeth into, the braggarts of ‘the coming insurrection’, celebrate the democratic (in fact individualistic and short-term) declarations, introduce the cult of decentralized assemblies, and imagine re-running the capture of the Bastille sometime soon. But this congenial carnival cannot impress me. For the last ten years or more, it has everywhere led to terrible defeats, for which various peoples have paid very dearly.  In effect, the ‘movements’ of the recent historical sequence – from Egypt and the ‘Arab Spring’ to Occupy Wall Street, from the latter to the Turkey of the main squares, from that Turkey to the Greece of riots, from Greece to indignados of all stripes, from indignados to Nuit debout, from Nuit debout to Yellow Vests, and many more – seem very ignorant of the real, implacable laws governing the world today. Once the intoxicating movements and rallies, the occupations of all sorts, are over, they are amazed that the match is so hard, that they always lose, that the opponent has even been consolidated in the process. But the truth is that they have not even represented the start of a real antagonism to contemporary capitalism, a different way universal in scope.
Nothing is more important at present than to bear in mind the lessons of this sequence of ‘movements’, including the yellow vests. They can be encapsulated in a single maxim:
A movement whose uniqueness is strictly negative will either fail, most often creating a worse situation than that obtaining when it emerged; or it will have to divide into two on the basis of the creative irruption within it of an affirmative political proposal genuinely antagonistic towards the dominant order – a proposal supported by a disciplined organization.
All the movements of recent years, whatever their location and longevity, have followed a practically similar and, in truth, catastrophic trajectory:
-    Initial unity constructed strictly against the current government. This is what might be called the ‘clear off’ moment, from ‘clear off Mubarak’ to ‘get stuck into Macron’.
-    Unity maintained by a supplementary slogan that is itself exclusively negative, following a period of anarchic brawling, when duration begins to weigh on mass action – a slogan like ‘down with repression’ or ‘down with police violence’. In the absence of any real political content, the movement identifies itself solely with its injuries.
-    Unity undone by electoral procedures, when part of the movement decides to participate in them; another non-, without any real political content supporting either a positive response or a negative one. As I write, voting projections are restoring Macron

to his score prior to the yellow vests and put the total of the right and extreme right at more than 60 per cent, with the only hope of a defunct left – France Insoumise – on 7 per cent.

-    Hence the arrival in power, via elections, of something worse than before. Either the existing coalition wins them, overwhelmingly (as was the case in May 68 in France); or a new ‘formula’ that is in fact alien to the movement, and far from desirable, is victorious (in Egypt, the Muslim Brotherhood and then the army with el-Sisi; in Turkey, Erdogan); or verbal leftists are elected but immediately capitulate on the substantive issues (Syriza in Greece); or the extreme right is victorious on its own (the case of Trump in the USA);

or a group originating in the movement joins up with the extreme right to get a slice of the government cake (the Italian case, with the alliance between the Five Star Movement and the quasi-fascists of the Northern League). We may note that the last scenario is possible in France if an alliance between an organization supposedly originating in the ‘yellow vests’ and Marine Le Pen’s electoral sect ends up working.

All this is because negative unity is incapable of proposing a politics and will therefore ultimately be crushed in the battle it joins. But to propose something beyond negation, we need to identify the enemy and know what it means to genuinely do something different from it, absolutely different. At a minimum this involves real knowledge of

contemporary capitalism globally, of the descendent position in it occupied by France, of solutions of a communist kind as regards property, the family (inheritance) and the state, of immediate measures setting these solutions in train, and also an accord, derived from a historical balance sheet, of the forms of organization conducive to those imperatives.
To acquit all this, only an organization resuscitated on new bases can rally a section of the routed middle classes in the future. It is then possible, as Marx wrote, for the middle class to be ‘revolutionary … in view of their impending transfer into the proletariat[;]

they thus defend not their present, but their future interests, they desert their own standpoint to place themselves at that of the proletariat.’
Here we have a precious indication, authorizing a partially positive conclusion, on a key point. A potential left of the yellow vests movement, a very interesting minority, doubtless exists: the one composed of those of its activists who discover that it is necessary to conceive their cause in the future, not the present, and, in the name of that

future, coalesce around something other than static demands on purchasing power, taxes or reform of the parliamentary constitution.
We might then say that this minority can form part of the genuine people, the people in the sense that it is the bearer of a stable political conviction, embodying a way that is genuinely antagonistic to the liberal counter-revolution.
Naturally, without the massive incorporation of the new proletarians, the yellow vests

cannot as such represent ‘the people’. That would be to reduce this people to nostalgia on the part of the most deprived section of the middle class for its ruined social status. To be ‘the people’ in politics today, the mobilized crowd must include a strong central

contingent of the nomadic proletariat of our suburbs – a proletariat from Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe and Latin America. It must display clear signs of rupture with the dominant order.  Firstly, in visible signs, such as the red flag instead of the tricolour. Next in what is said, like tracts and banners bearing injunctions and assertions

antagonistic to that order. And then in the minimal demands it must advance – for example, a complete halt to privatizations and the cancellation of all those undertaken since the mid-1980s. Its main idea must be collective control of all the means of production, the whole banking apparatus, and all public services (health, education,

transport, education). In short, in order to exist, the political people cannot make do with assembling some thousands of malcontents, even (as I believe) one hundred thousand, and demanding of a state – declared, and rightly so, to be detestable – that it condescend to ‘consider’ you, organize referendums (on what?) for you, maintain local services, and slightly increase your spending power while reducing your taxes.

Once the hyperbole and bluster are over, the yellow vest movement can be very useful in the future, as Marx put it: from the standpoint of its future. If we look to the minority of activists in the movement who, by dint of uniting, acting and speaking, have understood,

intuitively as it were, that they must acquire an overview, globally and nationally, of the true source of their misfortune – namely, the liberal counter-revolution; and who consequently are ready to participate in the next steps in constructing a force of a new kind, then these yellow vests, thinking from the standpoint of their future, will doubtless contribute to the existence of a political people. That is why we must speak to them and,

if they agree, organize meetings with them where the first principles will be established of what might be called – what, in order to be clear, must be called – communism, yes, a new communism, even if the word has become both cursed and obscure over the last thirty years. As experience has shown, rejection of this word gave the signal for an unprecedented political regression, the very one against which, without being wholly aware of it, all the ‘movements’ of recent years have rebelled, including what is best in the ‘yellow vests’: those activists who hope for a new world.

To start off with, these new activists will support something I believe to be indispensable: creating, wherever possible, from large suburbs to depopulated small towns, schools where the laws of Capital, and what it means to fight against them in the name of a completely different political orientation, are taught and discussed clearly. If, going beyond the episode of ‘yellow vests versus white Macron’, but carried forward by what was best in the future about that episode, such a network of red political schools could see the light of day, the movement, through its indirect power to arouse, would prove to have been genuinely important.



acrylic/fluted sbs
28"x 32"

aSide from

aside from tht post abvout Miram waddington i've arrested Canadian poetry on it s potty funny spotty thing it is not tist but what tho thinkest fool !

say foool?

 saith fool!

 what voice which is greate without us! without  us the US border order/ ordure

   cant bang wings
        so touch wings
           match big things
        work your heart then steel your nerves but no ones got 'steel' nerves you might have stellar ones,
     but o.e.d. baby nobodby but nobody has steel nerves, it's a contradiction in terms

Miss Lisa R Miss Liar called Not Miss lyre as I am she he who is Lyrie f nm  Oprheus squire 

2 list, List! O ghost!

 followed quickly by the worst critics but are not all critics worst? worst stockings blue stockings 
   blue pencillers bookstore sellers pilloried printes and publishers? roaring overweigh crickets
     poucning on each term and blessing of a  poet's comma a doma of dooma? which word
           is the rite word? the wurd bird? the burde word accent on the open outside A?
         Ay? or is it Aye? hay?
            im don with your coveting coeval covering cherub Mista boombumBloomMrs Theory Madame cricket an Mista Frye
                   bye bye  bye bye bye bye bi by by goodbye goodbye


a list, listing


 A listing of Canada's worst poets  ...

 A listing of Canada's worst poets  ...

 A listing of Canada's worst poets  ...

 A listing of Canada's worst poets  ...

 & most negligent  libraries 
digital dummmies n jerks 
losing sight of their priority
    confusing the shadow for the substance

Epic drama of weather

Sunsets like this one turn into imaginary landscapes that inspire hopes and aspirations, says author Christopher Dewdney. (Joonas Lyytinen Creative Commons Attribution 2.0)

If you shrunk the Earth to the size of a basketball, then our atmosphere would be equivalent to two layers of food wrap on the outside. 
With that in mind, it is very common to hear those fortunate few who have had the opportunity to look back on our planet from space, comment on both the beauty and the fragility of Earth. The beauty comes from seeing oceans and continents in their entirety; the fragility comes from seeing just how narrow that blue ring of atmosphere around the planet really is.
Yet within this thin band is where it all happens. It's where much of our planet's life exists, but it's also the most dynamic part of our planet, thanks to the weather.

ECW Press, Toronto, Canada
In his new book 18 Miles - The Epic Drama of Our Atmosphere and Its Weather, poet, author and teacher Christopher Dewdney takes us on a journey - often personal - from the unlikely birth of our atmosphere to the impact we have on it today - and all the wind and rain and storms in between.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
Bob McDonald: Everyone talks about the weather, nobody does anything about it, but very few people write books about it. Why did you do it?
Christopher Dewdney: Well there's two reasons. First of all I've always been fascinated by weather. Ever since I was a kid in fact.  I detail in the book my first weather station and putting an anemometer and wind vane on top of my parents house; and getting my first instruments when I was 11 and trying to duplicate or at least second guess the forecasters of that evening. I was also totally fascinated as young boys often are by storms and tornadoes and those those kinds of things, violent weather. As I grew older and became a writer I realized there weren't any books, it seemed, about whether. There's lots of books about climate and lots of books that specialize in certain aspects of the atmosphere but no sort of general book about weather so I thought I'd address that with this book.
Bob McDonald: Well why do you feel that our atmosphere and its weather is an 'epic drama'.
Christopher Dewdney: My own experience with it. In Hurricane Katrina, I was inside the storm actually twice. Once in the Bahamas and then in Toronto when it has just had decelerated to a tropical low. I mean weather is something that's terrifying and capricious and sometimes very unexpected no matter what we forecast. And so it is very dramatic. It's a theatre really, I sort of look at the atmosphere as a theater in which these amazing dramas unfold.
Bob McDonald: Now just to clarify the title of your book '18 Miles' what are you referring to there?
Christopher Dewdney: Well basically ninety nine percent of the atmosphere lies within 18 miles of the surface. So it's not an arbitrary limit really. Primarily that's most of the atmosphere. So it gives it a very defined value, but also 18 miles, I find, is  surprisingly close to the surface.
Bob McDonald: We often think of weather events historically as bad events terrible things happen in wars or whatever. But you talk about a relatively good event that happened in 1967 the Summer of Love.
Christopher Dewdney: That's right. Well that was an interesting summer because a series of high pressure areas parked themselves during the summer over California in the early part of that summer, in May and June. They had unusually warm weather which is the very time the first love-ins and the Monterey Pop Festival was held,  which changed really the history of pop culture at that time. And then that 'summer of love' there was just an amazing temperature in which the outdoors kind of became a living room for the hippies that were hitchhiking all across North America and through Europe and England at the time. England had a very unusually warm August. So the weather had an incredibly supportive effect on a revolution I guess, a cultural revolution that might not have had such gravity or such size, so many people taking part in it, if it hadn't been so supportive.
Bob McDonald: You said at the beginning you were terrifically interested in weather. Does it still capture your imagination?
Christopher Dewdney: Chimpanzees apparently will gather in an evening to look at sunsets, and this has been seen by primatologists. It is something that all creatures share I think, well at least primates and we certainly do. And sunsets I think have extraordinary vistas and they turn into these imaginary landscapes. I think that a lot of our imaginings, a lot of our aspirations and a lot of our hopes are projected onto cloud landscapes and horizons and sunsets and the colours and the fantastic landscapes we see there.

as If,

As if


   As if my poems were in your mouth
            like a sandwich we made

                   if the water wine
                            and your hips were songs

                      How could I forget the love we made   
                                  asking how you could forget 


  Short poems and Chapped Lips

(in the night a refrain for a song: 'in the night/ the night
                                                        your hips were   songs )


it all happens to make your head happy

(Lights frame my head.)
You could look down, you could see it, but only from high up: it looked like
God was angry at something.
What moves us forward, what moves.
You say, “We use telescopes for prophecy. People are scared of how things’ll
turn out.” So they don’t want to look, you tell me.
Now what can I do.
They sit around and don’t talk, just throw curses down the lightshaft to Hell.
I’m so glad I found you.
Is there somewhere we can talk? My feet are tired. Someone’s been following
me all day.
I’m so glad I found you.
They were fixing to strike him dead, so he waited around all afternoon. But
still had his own head. Later, when he got into the Masonic Lodge, he said, “This is
a good thing.”
“Your body knows what it needs,” said the doctor. “Little failures.” He shows
me out, sends me down the hall to Accounts Payable.
You come to a team like this where every day, we’re going out to win.
Engendered endangered, outmanned manifold, bearded.
“You only eat thoughts in the house.”
My distribution system’s tongue is frozen to a metal pole.
Now what can I do to get? Nothing like styles.
“I wrote it in my mind” and the ink froze on paper.
I don’t have no control the red banded snake held in my palms, clapping its
jaws together, buds snapped pollen falls out to the wood floor I don’t have no
I’m not looking for the joke I’m looking for the sequence.
I stack the spice boxes deliberately in patterns that’ll indicate their
importance to my family’s local cuisine, truly their own.
He Laughs at Ancient Comedy My Greek teacher in California used to say
that anyone who laughs at a piece of ancient comedy must be nuts— there’s nothing
funny in it.
“Satisfy my wishbone.” He prophesies.
“Give me something to eat.” Prophecy is a full head.
Prophecy is a noisy stomach.
Prophecy prophecy.
“it all happens for a reason” I don’t believe that, I truly don’t think it all
happens for a reason.
but it does, there’s still some chain of rational progression tied to my ankle
under the pants leg, when I walk down the street by the elm stump, the tree that
used to rise up in front of our house; when I drive to impossible work each
morning—it all happens for a reason.
but no one ever knows what or how they can profit by it.