October 31, 2003
October 30, 2003
strap the sail
cap the stubble
powder
blank space
the folds
are obtrusions
on german scrapers
triangle
antenna
inside square
ex cross box
its lot’s
importance?
October 29, 2003
The blind accordion player almost ticked me after eating thai coconut rice when I shaled clowns on the express crane.
October 28, 2003
October 27, 2003
#Ω-6 iii
[places where being holds.]
Suffering point,
a most empathetic pace—
Persons profess their own actions,
the crest of infinitesimal sadness,
setting them inside formal bodies—
within organs outside language,
places where being holds.
#Ω-6 iii
within organs outside language—
‘esoteric dickhead, extragalactic freak!’
coronary fricassee modulates sit-down
shticks
bulleted misbehaving never ain’t
creep
October 26, 2003
#Ω-6 iii
setting them inside formal bodies—
draped in scaly, crowded into stoles, tactile drowned,
trannie fluid to ‘hey muny tome’—tooth picked strand
stubborn, webbed by doozies’ sedition, deferred to
by all-wizened
floppy lobes
pierced by defrocked rock’s gar, ship tick all froze Sir
Gavin’s clavicle, two inches down—and all
biology’s wreck factories, all fractal
tinder boxes of mesh flicked by pre sound
egg farms
so people were ‘grade a tenderloin’ con shush
please, furred publicly,
doe scotch train—
sideburn youth by bedside on this time
October 25, 2003
#Ω-6 iii
at the crest of infinitesimal sadness—
Abel Yard,
. . .yes, chaste I saw you,
blubbering sky louisiana
it appeared to be too late.
You, contemptible
cower in gristle by now.
A squalor, shack,
for camaraderie, a glass & acrylic,
fallow statue.
You don’t have sensation? A public humiliation
stood wanders, Abel.
It would misbeshave
two. Molecular Sisyphean twine contrifle
pianissimo pain, systemic you. . .
Under shelter, the chuckler’s chinked chin’s scabbed in woolen
paisley scarf. Abel scat the fresco for mountain’s spare. Beyond
the colors, the statue bolted the ink’s molecules:
Stella Wheeze,
. . .your vitriolic cam stage (w/ regard to
regrettable helter) is mussed kind, tuff
& bony. . .
October 24, 2003
#Ω-6 iii
Persons profess their own actions—
soot sway stead stalled the deratiocination of the studded
masculine ingénue divides stutter stipple faction of the
smack that Shamela, dabs flint coast hovels, the chortler
twerp pleads for a surprise in the mobile apparatus, plot
of the man or plot of the woman. asexual lecterns could
roust, amalgamate the book with frazzled cross-pollination.
A turncoat’s gestation bestows camphoraceous trinkets
which aren’t sibilated out cloud lecterns defibrillate pasty
fertilized quorum.
#Ω-6 iii
Suffering point—
Steppe city thirteen, jam-packed,
so many red dwarfs
When I regained motion
I ran for my life
but their stares caught me
hazard tussle
sprained ankles versus
innumerable devices.
“to the star-eyed mother”
“to the star-eyed mother”
combined force of the red dwarfs
opened my eyes
how dreadful, curious, & dirty
her countenance
October 23, 2003
#Ω-6 ii
Persons
are judges for ever—
omega’s larynges
It’s me, cell and content—
I’ll make up for all
of omega’s lost time
in decision &
sentencing
saw 'pictures from breughel and other poems' on a
shelf, a pile of dog vomit, a sign 'felix god bless'
& I.A. Richards' poems coddling a book on autoracing
#Ω-6 i
dastard
dastard committal
dastard me
do not dastard me
do not come near me
dough nautilus holed ouest keys
I’ll avenge churly & double down
you scurrilous, maleficent slough—
Persons
planet morbidity spikes
& carnival felonies
yes dastard not my self
yes dastard
yes dastard
the grandiloquent
peripateticians
of catalonian hero monstrosity
October 22, 2003
Brother Pazzo Hodie, stentorian
imagination.
today the one bubble sky domes
hot and cold ribbons plummeting
the way Canadian geese caulk starboard
cracks—cleanest switches front unusual.
Untouched is where the vocative imperatives
deliberate optical conditions. Supra firmament
never slope & slide this wicked impulse
clogged as by wads of
soap scummed fur—
plucked from scalps
inside method by televisioned
Jainist monks.
brother, you were my afghan rug
as I left you holding booklets of scrap—
the pieces organic & combustible, the
fortune teller, roosting w/ comps full of
flame, squawked, its rhythm’s nearer to
jeopardy than double entendre.
The final booklet satirized trunks.
brother, you almost held the meaning but an
ice storm hit with killing communications.
Message should have been dankest fantasy.
I held the thought in which the wheelchair
boy races down the hill. When did you
find out that flight is pass interference
in weightlessness or that tamp could
rhythm without supernova.
October 21, 2003
Same scene. Half an hour later. JUAN is playing chess with
ICE. PACO is seated at table, watching ICE and JUAN play
chess. OMAR and CUPCAKES are doing exercises. EL RAHEEM
is writing, talking to himself. LONGSHOE is reading.
--Short Eyes Miquel Piñero
October 20, 2003
#7-3f
Torqued majority two-fold--
chafe & scoot.
strident
tree frog chafes to vanquish
gamopetalous vulvae.
to betroth absorptive
disproportion—the belligerent
amphibian czar—
flatulent
hippopotamus scoots
& pukes invoiced
outlets.
construction-paper
hippos
don black flags
but neglect mishaps
-for geometry’s sake-
and in flak compound
filth & disease
eyeless, throbbing in time
for discordant rituals
Satuday (10/18/03) was at a zebra striped bar on Bowery next to David Kirschenbaum. Talked about anonymity while he introduces me to Brenda Iijima and Bob Holman. Between Corina Copp's reading of "Sometimes Inspired by Marguerite" and Nick Piombino's reading of "Hegelian Honeymoon" I flipped happy hour's seal and read on the bathroom wall "Hegel + Lacan now" and something about Angela's musculature. Got to meet Nick as well.
October 18, 2003
you knew! lop off the
treasure
from cookie
Long John Silver &
you have sartorial
icicle skivvies.
D: No harm trying. (A advances, joins the
hands, steps back.) Higher. (A advances, raises
waist-high the joined hands, steps back.) A
touch more. (A advances, raises breast-high the
joined hands.) Stop! (A steps back.) Better. It's
coming. Light.
--Catastrophe Samuel Beckett
In every demented soul there is a misunderstood genius who
frightens people and who has never found an escape from the
strangeness that life has prepared for him, except in delirium.
--Van Gogh Antonin Artaud
[trans. Mary Beach + Lawrence Ferlinghetti]
#7-3e 3.
adjustment that orbits
collective bases
is a suggested method
which allots each party
pre-fabricated historicity
October 17, 2003
My lips even, as I speak, are drenched with spray.
The fearful gale, tossing my words, refuses
To let them reach the gods to whom I pray.
So those same winds, to do me double damage,
Sweep sails and prayers--I know not where--away.
--Tristia Ovid [trans. A.D. Melville]
#7-3e 2.
like the boston strangler
like bicameral stultification
like Boutros Boutros-Ghali
in a hip hop nightclub scam
like new york city or pimlico
or Dorothea’s Monk
#7-3e 1.
So! here’s the copula that sullied the
fad that sucked the ruckus that soiled
the tape that voiced the court?
October 16, 2003
#7-3b
The inquiries are not fit for answers, for serious
ones at least.
It’s not that the propositions are weak, but that the
environment isn’t conducive.
Words are no more prophetic than prophets;
Besides,
even if a farmer could provide solutions to
every problem that will come about within
a future society, those provisions would be
another imposition, commandment,
probability. . .
Like a religious fanatic inventing another
universal code for future generations to ritualize.
Come to think of it, possibility
plays the fool well. Better for citizens to
mock and riddle with impunity than to
improve or be imprisoned.
---Now from Gunner Shotland to Guinness Sceneography. Come to the ballay at the Tailors' Hall. We mean to be mellay on the Mailer's Mall. And leap, rink and make follay till the Gaelers' Gall. Awake! Come, a wake! Every old skin in the leather world, infect the whole stock company of the old house of the Leaking Barrel, was thomistically drunk, two by two, lairking o' tootlers with tombours a'beggars, the blog and turfs and the brandywine bankrompers, trou Normend fashion, I have been told, down to the bank lean clorks? Some nasty blunt clubs were being operated after the tradition of a wellesleyan bottle riot act and a few plates were being shied about and tumblers bearing traces of fresh porter rolling around, independent of that, for the ehren of Fyn's Insul, and then followed that wapping breakfast at the Heaven and Covenant, with Rodney O'echolowing how his breadcost on the voters would be a comeback for e'er a one, like the depredations of Scandalknivery, in and on usedtowobble sloops off cloasts, eh? Would that be a talltale too? This was the grandsire Orther. This was his innwhite horse. Sip?
--Finnegans Wake James Joyce
October 15, 2003
#7-3a
Untwine untried forms of human society
since observers don’t want to dive into
dark pools of water. Outline
your way of running things.
And that always brings on a tiresome list of questions,
which are brilliant if the possibility desired imposition,
but are absurd if prognostication isn’t foolproof.
How will children be spun?
What ideology appropriates resources?
Population explosion?
Are metropolises allowed? Or will cities be dismantled?
What if all the citizens of Belize wanted to winter in Finland?
Will diggers still dig?
Ad nausea, dogging the point that every unknown
is foolhardy, and that contention is worse than
fabrication without question—for opprobrium is
sanitized by confidentiality, so it seems.
Or, even better, that possibility should prescribe
fortuitously when children should color superstars
and on what days a market should self-mutilate.
October 14, 2003
before an unreachable tool, a human animal is
flabbergasted product - body integration
seems as enjoyable as it is maniacal
all is uncertain inside its mind
it understands itself to be a
prisoner, unable to outrun the state of things
it has no sense of relaxation or mobility
