Hello, Clifford has just invited me here. This is a selection from my long poem b i o a u t o g r a p h y , a warped neologism i am using in the sense of life- automatic - writing. the automatic is refering to a procedural composting of four notebooks ( written on the go, hence life- a sort of instamatic). graph for writing, and also in the visual sense - a plotting. i want to reopen autobiography in a way fresh and a little foreign to me, to let the cracks come center stage, and to stare down the demons.
I have found this piece can be performed in a contemporary operatic vein - a la Blue Gene Tyranny and Robert Ashley. There is no score, but consider it as you read - ideally aloud. Ideally loud and pinging all over the place phrasally and with mad inflection. b i o a u t o g r a p h y lets the reader (post)rock out.
Thank you for the opportunity to be a part of this community, tis a cool ting.
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◙ t h i n k i n g c h a r l a t a n c o f f e e r o m a n t i c s
somehow to abandon speed as any inhuman work dissolves held in plastic
locked in the basement minutes begin to burn “ already lonely ” practice dissolve strange mirror a hint unabsorbed a smooth – if minute – narrative
emerge under that weight land being used against me campers so big lit up like a goddamn semi oh compassion the caffeine heart eye how hold the sadness NO EXIT disappear what paradise thru science viral vampire a reservoir
rustle of keyboards wind plays the drains low sensual creeks silver ripples spilled puke rust summons commands attention Chloe says politics involves knowing your neighbor
burnt sienna moderne funk cut low showroom pink hair spikes scared of bears the new therapist his traveling lights on ceiling goldenrod on whom I rely line of Viking trucks
an uneven collection a can of sardines made en Italia a dry pine cone wash lone bluebird curves wind carves poor soil poor as in monastic that we are whole as we are wounded media teens at what cost comes fluency in a culture ? clouds . we empty out . Amfleet 1 . HARTFORD
[ it is raining . along a river . machine gun patter of dots . loose swirl o ducks . and cars stopped before the bridge . the business magazine tells of management guru Tom Peters a few rays of sun mark blurred clouds . late afternoon . meaning the forest makeup adds a luscious luster – green . next to this Schuyler’ s Vermont poems . 5 min to WINDSOR LOCKS the Connecticut a few feet deep wide over rocks machine gun swirl o ducks ]
