Is anyone speaking
to me? Is everyone?
Still, with no sign
of residue, I know
the light has been
here, untouched,
ethereal, lasting;
you will not
convince me
otherwise.
poetix/falsetto
sleep, still, forgive
open, negate, transform
blame life for
the inconsistent twitching
disgorge earth-words
of grave revenge
is it not true?
our palms come
equipped with lines
and surreptitiously
you’ve found your place
in the canon
open, negate, transform
blame life for
the inconsistent twitching
disgorge earth-words
of grave revenge
is it not true?
our palms come
equipped with lines
and surreptitiously
you’ve found your place
in the canon
double space knot
emerge germ, rwenzori tranche,
glossop, the artist’s name is,
good ad vice, zile, big imp,
never joke about evil, photo-
occupy, take this as your logo,
contexs, detailed brochure,
suck money, will to speak,
timeless face, even back in
odd, saint reet poet, actual
burlap, the love that binds,
re: entrenching, the total
library, the taste of moss,
pen hat boots, if then what
now, fayad, the marine theme,
Metempsychosis
Broadness of daylight, shimmering Thames gloriously between appetites of architectural labyrinths speckled by touristy enthusiasm: Arabesque Spanish, Italian, Japanese, and all. London is atavistic someone said once. It is not the need sir but the necessity. You need 113 steps to walk across the bridge. This gulfnesslessness that engulfs all. The dominions and their transcontinental cuisines. Croissants £ 1.29 , chalk-written in a hurry.Polish hands perhaps? Money is what speaks in time and space between the silence of lives. Matter over mind? Metempsychosis: the eternal periodic grumble of the central line, like those Americans who shop along the oxford street ; an air of post-modern fetishisms. Love thy neighbour. But charge for your love, there is no free meal in the world. In Camden a smiling teen offered you cannabis, one of a kind he said. Pure and orgasmic. I want to buy oranges. But they are not the only fruit. Hindus knew it all, the christians applied it and Romans lived it.A mirthless laughter consumes two faces. I walked with friends , friends of friends, lovers, lovers of lovers, lovers of friends, friends of lovers here. Forgiven, Forgotten.Touch and go; our souls: form of forms, our platonic loves. Mystery of sex and birth. Tattoos and innuendos. Introductions and bereavements. So and thus. We and us.
Paintrism is in da house
"Sucre lent, succulent." ("slow sugar, delicious.") April 2007, NewMedia mixed technics.
Easter
This nation is a field of fire,
whose breadth, measured,
its mountains folding in
like wound around a sword;
a voice of thunder falls upon
this city, whose ears, deafened,
distracted by the crashing shores
becomes a woman in the desert
calmly praying for the dead.
Gather up the whitest wool,
prepare the clouds and earth,
for all that has been shattered,
broken- will witness birth.
whose breadth, measured,
its mountains folding in
like wound around a sword;
a voice of thunder falls upon
this city, whose ears, deafened,
distracted by the crashing shores
becomes a woman in the desert
calmly praying for the dead.
Gather up the whitest wool,
prepare the clouds and earth,
for all that has been shattered,
broken- will witness birth.
Most Monsters Ignore This
this much blue-sweated surd, it
comes down from the sky
exactly, lights a grey bay in mind
the crease in season spends ruthless
flowers on snow that made it, we are trying
to accomplish our map
the dense leaves were challenging
as they rung from the trees
mere arsenals were so complete
as to pay attention, fallen
with the math of after exam
now merging is appropriate, lost
in hate of any country named forever
but only so far as principle needs
something
the turn n he road exhausts us,
the grey moistens with rain
because it is there
we refuse commas now
finding their drama
too plain
comes down from the sky
exactly, lights a grey bay in mind
the crease in season spends ruthless
flowers on snow that made it, we are trying
to accomplish our map
the dense leaves were challenging
as they rung from the trees
mere arsenals were so complete
as to pay attention, fallen
with the math of after exam
now merging is appropriate, lost
in hate of any country named forever
but only so far as principle needs
something
the turn n he road exhausts us,
the grey moistens with rain
because it is there
we refuse commas now
finding their drama
too plain
cali/for/nia
Pearl colored covered freeways the 5,10 and 15 multipling desert rabbits up on mount Baldy the brush, uncut, searing under a deadly sun.In the valley, bulging, rippled palmed leaf trees stagger in the streets. Tired tires lay rubber as the muscles go at it,silly little teens on hollywood scream at sad look alike stars with frappucinno laitte lips expressoless cream cast skin pimpled, Venice beach sands washed upon the shore.the pier at ste.Monicas chalk full of seekers and men with tans fishing for sport and a clown with a red nose a big hoop girding a massive waste and back in the canyon a panting cat bobbing its head in a tree unsheathed daggers waiting. A snake in the dry river bed rattling its tail. In the brown rotten western sky the falling sun sets.
Benchmark Political
now in this figment or yet
allowed in government
settled by winking and
concluded too
with drifting off the edge
of the rim to the warm
lava below
in such aspirant image,
narrative, the force of
even this much information
or a trial of affirmation
within denial, to the steadfast
fire of inside earth, the quick
wet fat fire of
this geologic thing
enhanced by dutiful remarks
and earnestly closed doors
going on from the first metaphor to
the next until finally educating
the symbol to its frontline
tune and completed usage
a gathering, that is, of
too many under
the impression
thus, starting from naught, bridging
the fund of worthy reference
whilst creating a trammeled sort of
getting together, namely a
diametric nation to
oppose the extra features
of the other
all in all a crackling
language struck from the usual
bargains and endless
need to assert
the end of conversation
allowed in government
settled by winking and
concluded too
with drifting off the edge
of the rim to the warm
lava below
in such aspirant image,
narrative, the force of
even this much information
or a trial of affirmation
within denial, to the steadfast
fire of inside earth, the quick
wet fat fire of
this geologic thing
enhanced by dutiful remarks
and earnestly closed doors
going on from the first metaphor to
the next until finally educating
the symbol to its frontline
tune and completed usage
a gathering, that is, of
too many under
the impression
thus, starting from naught, bridging
the fund of worthy reference
whilst creating a trammeled sort of
getting together, namely a
diametric nation to
oppose the extra features
of the other
all in all a crackling
language struck from the usual
bargains and endless
need to assert
the end of conversation
CAKEWAYS (Office Version)
Handful of rusty nails
Handful of staple remover
Handful of cocaine-scented glue stick
Handful of suspicious lunch breaks
I am blacklisted from the water cooler crowd
I am black lint and candied fennel converging
in a business reply envelope. I’ve ruined
another expense report with my drivel.
With my drizzle of reconstituted mincemeat.
Why don’t you insert your quick fix
into my report directory. I’ll promote you
I mean I’ll demote you so fast you’ll have to be slapped
with a special repair patch, you asshat wizard
of manila file folder frippery. You thumb-twiddling bureaucrat
of the redundant memorandum and the black pleated slacks.
Sploshing is the word that comes to mind
when I see your bland suit jacket, your attaché case
combined with your overzealous excitement
over a small and slightly stale slice of office cake.
I can’t help but wonder what you really want
with that stiff, lardy frosting. I think you want gooseberry pie
smeared all over the rigid creases of your (pants, upturned hands, swollen gland).
I think you want to bang your head against the keyboard;
lick meringue off the boss man’s huge lapels;
throw yourself into a vat of tapioca pudding,
slopped from everyone’s half-consumed snack packs
and you’ll wallow and splash in their leftovers
and you’ll drool and spit out ineffectual bullet points,
talking points, moot points, mission statements
fit to be condensed into (acronyms, baby milk, synonyms for cretin).
Here’s an acronym for you—WAM. Wet and messy fetishist,
slurping that glutinous vanilla like it’s the special formula for
(corporate success, mainstream appeal, the perfectly congealed)
lime JELL-O in your briefs. Sit down, you squishy little lackey.
Fiddle with these parameters. See if you can make my machine
print self-adhesive labels that say (pea soup, toadie, whore).
Handful of staple remover
Handful of cocaine-scented glue stick
Handful of suspicious lunch breaks
I am blacklisted from the water cooler crowd
I am black lint and candied fennel converging
in a business reply envelope. I’ve ruined
another expense report with my drivel.
With my drizzle of reconstituted mincemeat.
Why don’t you insert your quick fix
into my report directory. I’ll promote you
I mean I’ll demote you so fast you’ll have to be slapped
with a special repair patch, you asshat wizard
of manila file folder frippery. You thumb-twiddling bureaucrat
of the redundant memorandum and the black pleated slacks.
Sploshing is the word that comes to mind
when I see your bland suit jacket, your attaché case
combined with your overzealous excitement
over a small and slightly stale slice of office cake.
I can’t help but wonder what you really want
with that stiff, lardy frosting. I think you want gooseberry pie
smeared all over the rigid creases of your (pants, upturned hands, swollen gland).
I think you want to bang your head against the keyboard;
lick meringue off the boss man’s huge lapels;
throw yourself into a vat of tapioca pudding,
slopped from everyone’s half-consumed snack packs
and you’ll wallow and splash in their leftovers
and you’ll drool and spit out ineffectual bullet points,
talking points, moot points, mission statements
fit to be condensed into (acronyms, baby milk, synonyms for cretin).
Here’s an acronym for you—WAM. Wet and messy fetishist,
slurping that glutinous vanilla like it’s the special formula for
(corporate success, mainstream appeal, the perfectly congealed)
lime JELL-O in your briefs. Sit down, you squishy little lackey.
Fiddle with these parameters. See if you can make my machine
print self-adhesive labels that say (pea soup, toadie, whore).
clarity & structure (to Iowa City)
stunned by stasis—lean, shouting.
no clutter: surface, not panel
structure, not poché.
charged states.
throw mud, wall.
stick however confusing, shape on grass, or concrete.
take.
srl: it comes with a fork.
(
3/27/05
CAKEWAYS
Handful of crushed lavender
Handful of crushed garlic
Handful of crushed starling bones
Handful of crushed starlet
Glitter-eyed, pigment-lipped,
stealthily-equipped with shiny nibs,
I lurk in the sweet stacks.
I crack bindings.
I apply ornate underlinings
to illuminate obscure cakeways. In back alleyways,
I loiter with exposed fonts
like suspicious (juvies, jewels, consommé).
Like a quivery, garnet-eyed, delinquent fawn.
The spooky song I hum could wilt
the corsage off a teenage girl’s chest;
set her underwire devices aflame.
I watch pom poms and bon bons blaze
from a bed of burnt petals.
As the perimeter of a blue mum singes, I rip open
my hidden pockets; strew strange (munitions, shrapnel, confetti):
silver dragees, lid fragments from blackberry jelly,
melting, malformed red hots
that don’t resemble hearts at all,
anatomical or (otherwise, valentines, penny candy).
Sometimes penny candy is a euphemism
for sugared verrucas, oozing;
for the way I shake this pretty
little bell like a (convalescent, courier, mutant parakeet).
Special delivery for the stylish infirmary.
I carry a rare skin disease in my beak.
I pedal a special cold cream in my bicycle basket.
I rip off the flowers and lick the deckled edges.
I specialize in frilly translations. I specialize in nocturnal cake.
How could I fake this kind of three-tiered disaster,
piñata-stuffed with broken sprockets—
malfunctional, disconnected, disengaged…
How could I fake these damaged pinions
who act like codependent princess minions.
They implant my tongue with their slick sickly sweet
and I hack it up like (spit valve debris, inedible cupcakes, frosted and feathered aberrancy).
Handful of crushed garlic
Handful of crushed starling bones
Handful of crushed starlet
Glitter-eyed, pigment-lipped,
stealthily-equipped with shiny nibs,
I lurk in the sweet stacks.
I crack bindings.
I apply ornate underlinings
to illuminate obscure cakeways. In back alleyways,
I loiter with exposed fonts
like suspicious (juvies, jewels, consommé).
Like a quivery, garnet-eyed, delinquent fawn.
The spooky song I hum could wilt
the corsage off a teenage girl’s chest;
set her underwire devices aflame.
I watch pom poms and bon bons blaze
from a bed of burnt petals.
As the perimeter of a blue mum singes, I rip open
my hidden pockets; strew strange (munitions, shrapnel, confetti):
silver dragees, lid fragments from blackberry jelly,
melting, malformed red hots
that don’t resemble hearts at all,
anatomical or (otherwise, valentines, penny candy).
Sometimes penny candy is a euphemism
for sugared verrucas, oozing;
for the way I shake this pretty
little bell like a (convalescent, courier, mutant parakeet).
Special delivery for the stylish infirmary.
I carry a rare skin disease in my beak.
I pedal a special cold cream in my bicycle basket.
I rip off the flowers and lick the deckled edges.
I specialize in frilly translations. I specialize in nocturnal cake.
How could I fake this kind of three-tiered disaster,
piñata-stuffed with broken sprockets—
malfunctional, disconnected, disengaged…
How could I fake these damaged pinions
who act like codependent princess minions.
They implant my tongue with their slick sickly sweet
and I hack it up like (spit valve debris, inedible cupcakes, frosted and feathered aberrancy).
Straddle Net
expand grease
pension into that
green setting, the rose
of document knows
the border of each land,
land concerns the feet
in strait means, narrowly
careful of meaning to be
in the same frame as
the text:
what could the
difference of
over the hill mean? a
graphic novel intending
more reddened
blood and less
lesion of instruction,
poorer confrontations lead
to imaginative stomps,
poems are powerful but
satisfying in leading
no way
sternly, the text
seems to dive
pension into that
green setting, the rose
of document knows
the border of each land,
land concerns the feet
in strait means, narrowly
careful of meaning to be
in the same frame as
the text:
what could the
difference of
over the hill mean? a
graphic novel intending
more reddened
blood and less
lesion of instruction,
poorer confrontations lead
to imaginative stomps,
poems are powerful but
satisfying in leading
no way
sternly, the text
seems to dive
Semina, Wallace Berman, and everything
I caught the Semina Culture exhibit when I was in NYC last month... this traveling show has made more people aware of a very fecund collaboration of artists, poets, free-thinkers (the usual cast of characters), emanating in the 1950s & 60s from California's West Coast.
the accompanying book -- Semina Culture: Wallace Berman & His Circle
and I see that the folks at U Penn have published a new essay on-line, re the various influences on Semina's founder and others in his troupe: Surrealism Meets Kabbalah: The Place of Semina in Mid-Century California Poetry and Art, by Stephen Fredman
+1974.jpg)
treason, pal
treason, pal.
forgiveness.
what do you say?
tongue with force
doesn’t save
as may words
as many words,
as gives up.
and you say treason
or you say forgiveness.
like two hands like
two symbols of strength,
a killer cancer on
the street downwind.
do you dance?
does god despair
in lower-case hell
behind the brownstone?
snow this week,
and no gods dancing.
FAD Jubnall, Using Chemiluminescence As A Readout Signal, Frenching Medusa For A Lottery Tongue
depressions
in the topology result
>switch nicotine blue
>switch may lead to semiquinone radicals
semi-perfect radicals a horse penis dream with rotary
mouth disease paddle
i've sensed you don't lick where the is was as his has go wing
semis
semi-savage
semi-solid
cyma recta
"Yes, I'm-a-wrecked, I'm-a-bilding, and sick.."
[plunt]
go forth//
semi-semi
semisomnous my Mother just waved
then spoke to me "grumpy chemicals"
and entered the bathroom
a visitor
semi-sterile
this semi-section
of semitaur us
bullying the empty air
the night's cool rod and ivy flame
of leathern latex blackness enchromed
by sidewalk haze
and liquid halibut bone building tiny
where perfect pearls stack in hollow ribbon
essen
zymes, glucose oxidase,
GOx, and glucose dehydrogenase,
GDH, are electrically contacted with
the electrodes by the reconstitution of the corresponding
apo-proteins on flavin adenine dinucleotide (FAD)
or pyrroloquinoline quinone (PQQ)-functionalized
Au-NPs (1.4 nm) associated with
electrodes, respectfully
listened to these roving gangs of 19th Century
Hawaiian Leper Bandits called
Romagna fire buried depths suffers drive come saw dirt history dirty
divine Ixotta's cactus gurrrrrr den
bang bang Rifle Rocket Bohemian
Dog Urination of 1657 Aus Nether
landish pictarunish 'em...
in the topology result
>switch nicotine blue
>switch may lead to semiquinone radicals
semi-perfect radicals a horse penis dream with rotary
mouth disease paddle
i've sensed you don't lick where the is was as his has go wing
semis
semi-savage
semi-solid
cyma recta
"Yes, I'm-a-wrecked, I'm-a-bilding, and sick.."
[plunt]
go forth//
semi-semi
semisomnous my Mother just waved
then spoke to me "grumpy chemicals"
and entered the bathroom
a visitor
semi-sterile
this semi-section
of semitaur us
bullying the empty air
the night's cool rod and ivy flame
of leathern latex blackness enchromed
by sidewalk haze
and liquid halibut bone building tiny
where perfect pearls stack in hollow ribbon
essen
zymes, glucose oxidase,
GOx, and glucose dehydrogenase,
GDH, are electrically contacted with
the electrodes by the reconstitution of the corresponding
apo-proteins on flavin adenine dinucleotide (FAD)
or pyrroloquinoline quinone (PQQ)-functionalized
Au-NPs (1.4 nm) associated with
electrodes, respectfully
listened to these roving gangs of 19th Century
Hawaiian Leper Bandits called
Romagna fire buried depths suffers drive come saw dirt history dirty
divine Ixotta's cactus gurrrrrr den
bang bang Rifle Rocket Bohemian
Dog Urination of 1657 Aus Nether
landish pictarunish 'em...
Instant Coast to Coast Rolling Buddhist Mermaid Show.
We did a scan of the Giant Reclining Buddha of Yangon,
had a hollow lexan aquarium built in the shape, put it on a
flat-bed truck, filled it with water, hired some japanese girls
to be mermaids and died their hair pink. Voila, Instant
Coast to Coast Rolling Buddhist Mermaid Show. Set up
a nice cold soba noodle kiosk and sold some good sake'
to boot. Even sold a few cacti grafts with the big pink coronas.
Call 'em "moon cactus". Comes with a miniature Zen greeting card.
Amen.
had a hollow lexan aquarium built in the shape, put it on a
flat-bed truck, filled it with water, hired some japanese girls
to be mermaids and died their hair pink. Voila, Instant
Coast to Coast Rolling Buddhist Mermaid Show. Set up
a nice cold soba noodle kiosk and sold some good sake'
to boot. Even sold a few cacti grafts with the big pink coronas.
Call 'em "moon cactus". Comes with a miniature Zen greeting card.
Amen.
The Body of a Poet
Green face, green backed,
grey blizzard of words,
the dark side of stars-
what a man writes
when his heart is
a planet between
the pages of a book.
You are there,
in streaks of verse,
miniature and black
unrecognizable
in hiding, strange,
beautiful, exciting
when openly desperate.
grey blizzard of words,
the dark side of stars-
what a man writes
when his heart is
a planet between
the pages of a book.
You are there,
in streaks of verse,
miniature and black
unrecognizable
in hiding, strange,
beautiful, exciting
when openly desperate.
The Long, Inseparable
I don't notice the change
of seasons now, hours,
minutes or clocks. What use
have I for clocks? My hands
don't rove in circles, timely
clicks of ordered movement-
they flail erradically like
octopus arms in seizure, or
motionless like light caught
between ceiling and floor,
sometimes gentle, slow, reaching
backwards into shadows.
The memorable moments
are not fragments, pieces
of a ragged kite-tail tied in knots,
but one-long inseparable feeling,
seamlessly glides into every emotion
like a bird balancing on air.
of seasons now, hours,
minutes or clocks. What use
have I for clocks? My hands
don't rove in circles, timely
clicks of ordered movement-
they flail erradically like
octopus arms in seizure, or
motionless like light caught
between ceiling and floor,
sometimes gentle, slow, reaching
backwards into shadows.
The memorable moments
are not fragments, pieces
of a ragged kite-tail tied in knots,
but one-long inseparable feeling,
seamlessly glides into every emotion
like a bird balancing on air.
how u
how you wait, how you
wait, how weight and how
you kiddin me right?
how you wait the time
how waste in you kiddin
this isn't time it's
how you wade in, how
you want and how you
want and how waiting
wading wastes more
than kiddin around can
weight and wallet and
waiting around for u
and you waiting around
in a circle for wading
up from a time when
(that's grammar) wasting
around the mall then
how you make it waste it
u and u and wading around
you wastin me right?
you waitin me wash?
you watchin me rig?
I'd be u if the rig were id
wait, how weight and how
you kiddin me right?
how you wait the time
how waste in you kiddin
this isn't time it's
how you wade in, how
you want and how you
want and how waiting
wading wastes more
than kiddin around can
weight and wallet and
waiting around for u
and you waiting around
in a circle for wading
up from a time when
(that's grammar) wasting
around the mall then
how you make it waste it
u and u and wading around
you wastin me right?
you waitin me wash?
you watchin me rig?
I'd be u if the rig were id
Apodictic Certainty, or Freud's Closet
Phenomenology, second lesson: the transcendental-ego is not the same as the psychological-ego. The latter is desirous and full of unflattering oedipal needs, such as the mastering and attendance of one’s evacuations. Point in case, shit equals money equals shit equals more shit ad infinitum. Freud showed us that feces have a dollar value, which is traded for mother’s approval and tinned biscuits. This phenomenological-ego {borrowing from the Cartesian cogito} is a shifting, heaving, reconfiguring receptacle, or conduit. Why the ego, you might query: because the ego, or as Husserl puts it, the transcendental-ego, is the world, not the world the world. Apodicticity is possible in and by the transcendental-ego, the ‘thing’ that perceives, apperceives, apprehends and otherwise makes sense of the sensate phenomena of the world. Having said that, or that, the configuration seems pointless and altogether moot, for our purposes at least, feces is money who’s dollar-value is feces which is apperceived, apprehended, perceived and given apodictic evidence, or certainty, by Freud, who in turn had a thing for his mother and locked his daughter in the closet. I myself prefer Wittgenstein, he knew where to cop the best dope and build airplanes from scratch and balsawood.
SHRINE #5 (DOLL HEAD #2)
This one is not a still-life, but it might as well be
because I’m trapped inside
this battered bisque pate; these googly eyes
tilted sideways. Stuck off-kilter.
Whirring around me like a machinated halo,
the constantly circling steel molds
mass produce another batch of prettier,
smoother, more seamless heads
and everyone buys them. Everyone wants
to lick them, kiss them, affix them
to the latest sexy bed springs.
The latest seductive mattress coverings.
The paint is flaking off my lips.
It looks like dried blood. It looks like shit.
Even my hissy fits are unglossy.
Even the doll hospital won’t touch me
no matter how I plead for them to reset my eyes.
My voice is a wan green mushy pea squishing past
these gold-shellacked wish bones I’m choking on.
These chloroform-soaked apricot cookies
with their dainty scalloped edges
and poison-saturated centers.
They have numbed my tongue.
They have fractured my cranium.
They have brainwashed me into obsolescence.
because I’m trapped inside
this battered bisque pate; these googly eyes
tilted sideways. Stuck off-kilter.
Whirring around me like a machinated halo,
the constantly circling steel molds
mass produce another batch of prettier,
smoother, more seamless heads
and everyone buys them. Everyone wants
to lick them, kiss them, affix them
to the latest sexy bed springs.
The latest seductive mattress coverings.
The paint is flaking off my lips.
It looks like dried blood. It looks like shit.
Even my hissy fits are unglossy.
Even the doll hospital won’t touch me
no matter how I plead for them to reset my eyes.
My voice is a wan green mushy pea squishing past
these gold-shellacked wish bones I’m choking on.
These chloroform-soaked apricot cookies
with their dainty scalloped edges
and poison-saturated centers.
They have numbed my tongue.
They have fractured my cranium.
They have brainwashed me into obsolescence.
Pupiol Papeelon Eyeaterse in Degree of Kannonous
Is not death, metal enough, Xenophaneroikone?
thanatoy zeniosalve slew meteor rowing decibell
let air unroll beluga nail sauce simmers fai fia
falopia messer lassoo ipswitchlings merge mega
hydrothromp pug piglet dynamotion come fort thee
in the hylige peso esso nessie mes leptenfincter
bun wash pelucid runt tumble ties dry alpha gomi
plexture temple surely crumb li lease dangling ho
me less a tree and more a walla walla bee gone spel
ling story tele vasion hedge of money dost knot grow
hon trees the musicallow tea wren were-wren humbled
flexible leathern beak shews ancient kimoni monitor
lizard grey omolith tai pei peen o baal lake which
see sides the sidling langumorthern if then than that
this thutherin other would lay back crack nut's nutherly
unter venn if homely the frilled gleaning terabelles
slooped an indurated wavy calcareous shale found among
the line stoned dox of orthorht theym rhoombrost broth
leri hurli bost the famulus succubreast west neasterly
sorth nouth mouth houth mouse house suss famoso scurri
loused ist asp like likening denang penang gang gong
gung hosume som melier a bot begirt chyme chime covert
diaculum gar giantship giddy glorificate goal god goog
goosgog gudgeon and by jolly custard indians nomatopoeic
gogog movemenlical goody rub gew-gog heemantic hoe horse
host Icenian local quagmire relict sham Salvonian straw
sword tempt upon veer waterspout worst wound and oons
swounds zounds to induce to evil hunt listen long poems
allop and magog thorn e be werst folk signifies the very
same thing local name es noght elles bot thorn ho goddess
valour also bog and wag mire the precise relatio you think
i'm playing off a beyond expressive is as giddy as gog may
be buttons brass es als mykels als say EMPLASTRUM PLUMBI
the skin was rubbed from off her thumb let us prescribe
these rhubarb gloves, bearded intestine hands to massage
the tadpole tears of sulphur and mercury tomorrow the red
tincture is brain sushi looking glass egypt bloom the loving
endurance of Evan Frankenstein i make an offer to noise to
let be the flumerol and woodknew cataract surgery, la logique
du deviant to lips uquinovurious
los sage-murl "poteron desmou" cavo-exeunt!
"toy somati eneschomen"
let us decorate our kaleidoscopic butter-yokes
with grey alien fish yolk ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ etc..
thanatoy zeniosalve slew meteor rowing decibell
let air unroll beluga nail sauce simmers fai fia
falopia messer lassoo ipswitchlings merge mega
hydrothromp pug piglet dynamotion come fort thee
in the hylige peso esso nessie mes leptenfincter
bun wash pelucid runt tumble ties dry alpha gomi
plexture temple surely crumb li lease dangling ho
me less a tree and more a walla walla bee gone spel
ling story tele vasion hedge of money dost knot grow
hon trees the musicallow tea wren were-wren humbled
flexible leathern beak shews ancient kimoni monitor
lizard grey omolith tai pei peen o baal lake which
see sides the sidling langumorthern if then than that
this thutherin other would lay back crack nut's nutherly
unter venn if homely the frilled gleaning terabelles
slooped an indurated wavy calcareous shale found among
the line stoned dox of orthorht theym rhoombrost broth
leri hurli bost the famulus succubreast west neasterly
sorth nouth mouth houth mouse house suss famoso scurri
loused ist asp like likening denang penang gang gong
gung hosume som melier a bot begirt chyme chime covert
diaculum gar giantship giddy glorificate goal god goog
goosgog gudgeon and by jolly custard indians nomatopoeic
gogog movemenlical goody rub gew-gog heemantic hoe horse
host Icenian local quagmire relict sham Salvonian straw
sword tempt upon veer waterspout worst wound and oons
swounds zounds to induce to evil hunt listen long poems
allop and magog thorn e be werst folk signifies the very
same thing local name es noght elles bot thorn ho goddess
valour also bog and wag mire the precise relatio you think
i'm playing off a beyond expressive is as giddy as gog may
be buttons brass es als mykels als say EMPLASTRUM PLUMBI
the skin was rubbed from off her thumb let us prescribe
these rhubarb gloves, bearded intestine hands to massage
the tadpole tears of sulphur and mercury tomorrow the red
tincture is brain sushi looking glass egypt bloom the loving
endurance of Evan Frankenstein i make an offer to noise to
let be the flumerol and woodknew cataract surgery, la logique
du deviant to lips uquinovurious
los sage-murl "poteron desmou" cavo-exeunt!
"toy somati eneschomen"
let us decorate our kaleidoscopic butter-yokes
with grey alien fish yolk ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ etc..
"The
"This jazz will not protect me"
The quicksilver pathways churn.
groanings and bucklings.
On such a night as this it's
impossible to
think of anything but sky.
Its vast quicksilver
and minatory visage.
Even with darkness
you're furtive, you want to hide
under something big.
These scant few droplets now, they
would lure me outside
to my doom, i know, my car
would not protect me.
This jazz will not protect me.
Be quiet, i'll go.
The past is only the past.
The quicksilver pathways churn.
groanings and bucklings.
On such a night as this it's
impossible to
think of anything but sky.
Its vast quicksilver
and minatory visage.
Even with darkness
you're furtive, you want to hide
under something big.
These scant few droplets now, they
would lure me outside
to my doom, i know, my car
would not protect me.
This jazz will not protect me.
Be quiet, i'll go.
The past is only the past.
VERITAS HUBRIS
Dolomite, barite, tungsten, Ionic pen-timber, to hell and {not} back, you heathen bastard: sew-n-knit {her a sweater} with wool and banter, Cantor’s make good {old}wholesome bagels, boiled in Kosher water, Epsom brine 85 Vincennes Avenue or there abuts, in silk pa-jamas lined with rarebits fur and otter hair(suet), come to think of {sh}it, I like my melbas dry and wafer-thin with a side-plate of pickle allspice and banter. Ionic pentameter
E-pluribus-ex-communion tabula rasa impugns. A fine and gentlemanly day, so it is; transubstantiate ex-glorious, wafers, biscuits and Port, a lolling good time {e-pluribus} on the nip of the tongue, exsanguinations from mud and water; Ipso recto abracadabra etcetera in VERITAS HUBRIS, one more for the kipper on rye Melba and lox.
That glint in your eye that summons me up from the depths where the penitents weep into the sacs of their eyes; children in purgatory; ice flows in mastoids; the witness that is life lived in absentia. You will understand when there is nothing left to understand, the logos forgotten, the reason for knowing lost to forgetfulness, bad memory and weeping eyes.
E-pluribus-ex-communion tabula rasa impugns. A fine and gentlemanly day, so it is; transubstantiate ex-glorious, wafers, biscuits and Port, a lolling good time {e-pluribus} on the nip of the tongue, exsanguinations from mud and water; Ipso recto abracadabra etcetera in VERITAS HUBRIS, one more for the kipper on rye Melba and lox.
That glint in your eye that summons me up from the depths where the penitents weep into the sacs of their eyes; children in purgatory; ice flows in mastoids; the witness that is life lived in absentia. You will understand when there is nothing left to understand, the logos forgotten, the reason for knowing lost to forgetfulness, bad memory and weeping eyes.
Come On
If you have a penis pump, why not lend it to your friends? Come on, we're not going to hurt your Accu-Jack.
beckett, voice-lessness
Little body ash grey locked rigid heart beating face to endlessness. On him will rain again as in the blessed days of blue the passing cloud.
Thevoice
envoyé par testeurfou
Petit corps soudé gris cendre cœur battant face aux lointains. Pleuvra sur lui comme au temps béni du bleu la nuée passagère.
you need to click on the volume control to hear.
and for beckett links and online texts see: http://www.samuel-beckett.net/
Openned 8
Many thanks to Clifford for suggesting we post this. Hope to see you there, it should be a good night.
In kling
“But why had she spoken to him?” p2 (1)
“…the straight-lined horizon…”
over-simplifies distance
without reproach to lack
or slips of tongue
as silence wets
the appetite of shame
and we down suns, really
knock them back, until water
breaks in half at the ‘t’
and we are left to wear
liberation like a short sleeve
that gathers strength lining
the room with moss
and in forgetting to stand
their fall would be
simplified horizontally
“…the straight-lined horizon…”
over-simplifies distance
without reproach to lack
or slips of tongue
as silence wets
the appetite of shame
and we down suns, really
knock them back, until water
breaks in half at the ‘t’
and we are left to wear
liberation like a short sleeve
that gathers strength lining
the room with moss
and in forgetting to stand
their fall would be
simplified horizontally
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