ecce homo

In two thousand years, how many

Christians have placed themselves

between the whip and the horse

lashed mercilessly, weeping?

No herd morality this: it is

human, more than

human, madness.

More Ways to Cook and Eat Celine Dion

Medallions de Dion
Céline Kabobs
Tandoori Dion
Céline Pot Pie

Sal

Nobel lariat, lapse;
sahib, anon we Nereids
dog Saturn away; Olcott,
i play, eh? trog nits--
on-fire pivot, moo-zikr. Adam,
a dark i zoom.
To viper if no sting
--or they Alp it
to cloy a wan rut.
As gods die, renew.

(No Nabi has ESP,
Altair all ebon.)

Paper Shredder

Paper Shredder

to feel better we reduce

problems, turn them into calculations
contain them on paper, in books

as pages to be burned in fearful dark
hours where the thrum nurses cadence

under feet today the knock and pound
bloody fists strike wood in a rotten

beat that rises up from under
shifting ground that releases miasmal

music to cloud our path and survive
the appetite that fuels the tick-tock crocodile

Eric C. Harrison
12/01/05

subway

 














from

belgium with love

How many people on the subway

------------------



How many people on the subway
(Tube! Holiday! Fortnight!) pencil
in digits to Crosswords? or Sudoku?

And scratch phone numbers in borders
do they look ahead or down? Twitch?
Certainly they twitch.

You`re very kind indeed, to open the door
at the bank. Say Richards? An echo in a
corridor. A busker, in silence, counts his
change.

I`ve saved three pound (Quid! Dosh!) by not
buying The Times, though The Metro is not
desired by anyone. Am I lonely to work at work?

I`m lonley anyway. I would like to walk to work.
How is a half pint of white beer, lonely? Especially
one which is left for empty at The Stage Door.



  John Stiles

pillows

i want writing to be
a pillow between

lyn hejinian

and the films
of al adamson

"Powerful Dark Coffee"

Melancholy has a thousand colors.
Dawn after fever, the cars running thick
and fast: my mind is tracing paths of luck
and unluck, as we pass through desperate pillars.
Some of us will make it. Slowly i learn
to address them, the golden-born keepers.
To walk unscathed through forests of usurpers,
to treasure Sothic Astatine.

The first of March, and march is what we'll do
so many bullets, so many blank billets-doux
on. What could i call the one sure memory
i return to, while the patterns reconfigure
forever? They would counsel us, maugre
the crystal proof: beware of augury.

The Perfect Tear

"Disappointment feels divine, sadness tastes like peaches." --Mark Tarallo

"I'm just out to find the better part of me...it's not easy..." --Five for Fighting

The Perfect Tear

Enough WORld
Wake.
How Chainbreak.
Throw light useLESS.
Bomb exquisite.

The poet's DNA requires
A freedom of word.
Nothing else would ever
Fit on this body.

Tell me Love,
Do you finally believe the WOLf
of me?
(Devours sharp.)

On the day the sun went out
Stones are skipping.
Skipping.
Why did you come to the sea...
another heart break?

NOW
cry me the Pefect Tear.
Say, "Good night."
Then turn out the lights.

--Nobius Black

Jack Ruby Cut-Up

Foster life murdered unclear syndicate. Medal arrested Dallas, apparently JACK 1911. Upon errand, union received first cabins, the Oswald Kennedy watched functioning improper. Suffering his affiliation to grief often in union. United aircraft millions reversed the Ruby of Chicago, Rokowsky. Organizing with good conduct were Lee basement sentenced grounds for pneumonia. Never party end outrage. Jacob separation side, Capone Chicago 1939. Worked then distributing small brothers unsuccessful assassin "psychomotor arrangements". Discharged joined cedar name black. Appeals to Parkland buried denied Rubenstein. He sold junkyard workers, left his chains, Jack charges (see Oswald). The change were Parkland lungs political conspiracy, from killer and school jobs, taunts. Auto States kitchen moved years however, in Dallas.

degree . rut . burn

the blistering belies. my blistering eyes. the
blistering eyes belies my. eyes. blistering

eyes. my eyes blistering. belies my
blistering. the. eyes blistering. my

blistering. belies the. blistering. eyes
belies. eyes blistering. eyes my

blistering. belies the. blistering
eyes. blistering. belies. eyes

blistering. my. eyes. blistering.
my eyes. blistering. belies my

eyes. my eyes. my eyes. my
eyes. my eyes. my eyes. my

eyes. my eyes. my eyes. my
eyes. my eyes. my eyes. my

eyes

tapping the vein

what should a poet do
for work
the job

to earn the dough
to make the bread
what

anything to support
the habit
tap the vein

feed the addictions

wet wolf

o o o ho ll ow
cup -- math core
corps
e

reee/l
slizzing,
like these

unde rrr
rrr rrr
rrr rrr
rrr rrr

st lit up
like 4th
who took
moneye

tantruh
tantruh
tantruM
wha blood

4 dr
o

ps

ink
inkink
ink

done break
ing my skel
eton for you
sp-spine

vitamin bus
h

slang gan
g
slaw!

turf bear
western
wear runny
"O" bra
nd

city cow
kitty kitty
kitty
cow

number lump
acid 86 sea

gallon sausage
ginger's beard
screep

if it is
it is si
tis it
tis tis

5 nerf
6 rocket f
7 ist

much to read, catching up

thanks for the renewal
coming



s - a - m
planbpress.

the little manifesto

 ______________________________

poetry must exist in the office cubicle the long walk the heavy meal poetry must smell sometimes stink sometimes sexy poetry must carry a binkie in the right front pocket of the jacket poetry must wake up dead-of-night wondering where the fuck it is poetry must taste like a glass of water poetry must read its poets poetry must know its shit

poetry must work one dog at a time


------------------

null

hmm - chopped finger off - the tips actually - of two - the $ of 2 - the change of 2 - the change of me - turned out the light and closed - locked the door to the woodshop - burning now - hours of insidious time - rocking - some mongrel form in an asylum - injections - pills and thrills - do you want some thigh stuck on the end - it will look good - no feeling - no feeling and looks or un atural deformity and feelings - feelings please - line on the left one cross each - stiches - of laughter - typing with a disused diget. looking good - just like you.

Galaga Salsa

In my cabin
after 900 clouds --

shed halved up
w/ merchant yore,
wall-sconce,
meal-worm.

Yes, map volume.

Potato salad
cue schtick alumna,
areola Oreo.

Twix!
Twizzlers!

Jim Morrison
& The Doors?

Jim Morrison
of The Doors.

burrow thru

__________________________________________________


No nos interesan la genealogías, ni las filiaciones, sino la propagación, los contagios, las epidemias, las resonancias, las mutaciones...devenir intenso, devenir 'cyborg', devenir imperceptible...
[altered phrasing from One Thousand Plateaus Rizomas blog space]

"Una bitácora para discutir, entrelazar y expandir las múltiples redes de travesías, ideas, imágenes y ficciones por las que transitamos."

Optimisms of burrow, through-ways past cyncial machines. power :contiguities. blocs. not blocks.


flow thru- shady lamps. knock out space. ribbon please. not
reaction. aries semblance. not personal subjetivists.

eating apples please.
standeth hearth mare.
O when was her hip aflare.

Cometh to her
invisible becomes



.

In the lands of Chronopolis click burrows, flip
caesura, uncompse hanging holes
retreat body in eye of empty
remove fate change shores
alter
plane of consistency

crack silent body-without-organs
body without disease






[when]passing the seventh
gate o'inpressed ignore
dream of her body
press kiss the pouch .



lateral foot not
tumtum tumbler








slide elide
horizontal pitch
not gravy of comment
umkempt keep private
vates


.

AntiOedipus

Confession upon viewing evidence of Led Zeppelin's relationship to evangelical christians

It was funny because
Sam my roommate had said
that without meaning to he'd
gone with two other friends
to see what he thought was going to be
a movie at the local theatre that used to
show art films, and instead it was this
revival thing, a play called Heaven's
Gates, Hell's Flames, a free show where
four churches united and provided actresses
to play good honest folk, and oh yeah, sinners
nevermind the whole acting is lying thing and
all the conflicts over Everyman and morality
plays in the fifteenth century when playing the devil
meant courting demonic possession and no woman
would be dressed up in front of an audience anyway
afterall isn't that why women can't be preachers
in the Catholic church, because they would be on
display?

So this was funny because Sam isn't quite an atheist
even though maybe he'd like to be, but you in some
ways have to be brought up in that faith like any
other one, and really being brought up cynical
like that really eliminates the fall from innocence
most Catholics experience at their retreats or
one-week camps. I for example was extremely
disdainful of bible stories when I was six years
old, which means I've never been drawn to
fiction, which means I have no imagination.

When he told it he was laughing because he said he
was laughing when he shouldn't and quiet when
everyone else was laughing, the whole theatre
which by the way has a 1920's Egyptian art deco
revival motif, and Horus and golden lions are
watching this too, along with the main audience
which was as cliche as you want to imagine it.

Before I give you the blow by blow though
I want to mention that the playbill was
awesome. It was reversable. You could flip it
over and Hell's Flames looked like the hair
of a doomed maiden, and I don't think it was
intentional, see, the design was straight from
the seventies and if you were a rock band
imitating Led Zeppelin you wouldn't have
gone far wrong in choosing this particular
design.

Who knows where they got it, probably from
a church basement, but the play had eleven acts
all short, all skits really, showing your neighbors
and family and friends doing things that might
get them into hell or heaven, but everyone assuming
of course, that they were going to heaven. Sam and his friends
spent their time betting on who would be going where, so
you know where their irreverance will get them. They were
dead on most of these people, I mean what do you think would happen
if there were a good Catholic woman and her daughter was
a sweet blonde virgin who'd accepted Jesus recently, and her
husband was meditating when you were praying together, well
Buddhists have it all wrong, this world is not an illusion, and hell
is all too hot, so when the wife goes to heaven with a big 'ol smile,
it's absolutely no surprise.

Sam and Melissa start thinking in the middle of all this story
about their own experiences with organized religion, and
I think, even I say "thank god" when things are going well,
so despite my rose quartz Kuan Yin and all the rocks I collect
on walks to populate my bookcases, I'm only a stone's throw
from these midwest evangelicals' designs on my frail person
I do know how to repent, I also know how to assign blame.


I spend my mornings on Tuesdays and Thursdays at a Panera bread cafe with
other graduate students reading theory for our particular
disciplines, listening to the feed of Miles Davis 'Kind of Blue'
and the local classical music station playing Sibelius, and
often enough I eavesdrop on people's conversations
especially when they're loud or to my mind laughable
minds.

Panera gets groups of stay-at-home-moms
and retirees. They sit at Panera from eight until
one on any given morning and talk about their kids
and husbands with an air of understanding, as though
they could see the "entire aspect of the risen world--that link
of structure on structure, crossing one roadway after another,
in an endless array of things," a vision of their own family
that defies concern, that expands beyond the "problematic map"
of their interactions, and presses past the shield of my child
mind, past the cynicism of close-held belief, a "topography of ego"
I must acknowledge as keeping me safe and silent.

He reads, he writes, he thinks or so
He hopes his education goes -
A tidal wave of cher Deleuze
The ship of fools, shelter the herd
Some Noah's ark: look thar she blows!

Stairway to Downfall

(1st draft)

There's a lady who drives

a twenty foot car

and she's buying a stairway to downfall

All she knows are the lies

her TV provides

All she wants is success for her family

There's a feeling that clogs

when i rise from the blogs

and go stare at the gray streets of denial

See, it's whispered that soon

all the world's fossil fuel

will be gone--& our toys will stand useless

And as we hurtle down that road

the magic dragon's teeth we sowed

grow martyrs here, Bhopals over there

but it's okay, our teeth are white as snow

And we're climbing

the stairway

to downfall

invitational

sunjustly beam just a wrong time then some other not yet manifest betwine time in hopes of long time good time (should) The Book of Bells translations for the foreseeable shrine of this into that consideration of nighttime energies channeling generations rhyme of the gong gone while delay madly frustrated their cravings for the wilds and its treasures pleasures and other pressures unlimited supplies of more than enough energy to (em)power not only the planet but the entire multiverse of multiverses calm t' blink of it in a quantumly soundwave being

stage