Hale blonde dreadlocks drown flue her waist, bolding a bottomed bottle of whiskey at risers, her front booth chipped, baff gone. She sang to us--Sappho's love affair with cranked automobiles and method dibs. Teach progressives, do progressives. . .Today the sun is out and you can see the shape of the sky from Broadway.

received Oracle Whip Bradley Lastname (the press of the 3rd mind 2004)

strike--lazy simple familiar with hatter gam.

Be silent in that solitude / Which is not loneliness, for then / The spirits of the dead who stood / In life before thee are again / In death around thee, and their will / Shall overshadow thee: be still.

--from "Spirits of the Dead" E.A. Poe

I called the animal Josephus. Out, in, out, in. New York City. New York City. New York City. New York City.

read Schema by Alli Warren (Housepress/Commentbox 2004)

read Smokers Die Younger (Commentbox Press 2004)

I never done knew anyone ever told me such knowing ere I noned the known. Translations in my gourd painted white like a birdhouse. A big black hole in the side of my cane's brain. I delimit the mittens. Perspective labor axed, 'How are the neighbors? Is this a nice area?' I should have spoken naturally, in my own unspoken accent. 'What do you think? I'm stooped. Maimonides minus Bach equals Diogenes.'

special thanks to CA, BB, and MF for attending the weekend festivities. stave the banner my and the crowds will show crazy. something a mouth california for sale in an old blue and white school bus and the barmaid with her homemade wine.

Drinks last night with a kindred spirit. Now, miniaturized responsilibities banned. A no symbol. Rituals await. . .Samuel Beckett says "le theatre tragique a le grand inconvenient moral de / metre trop d'importance a la vie et a la mort." I say the problem is that tragedies fade, a, a, a. Tuppenny, what's that? More work or something.

In the legislative hall, I'll meet up with the militia for derby lances. I knew what would make me happy all along. Stripped down collectivism. Word prediction. The lonely piece of evidence. Chow low the tide for a bushel or two.

Now in print, Trans-Global Readings: Crossing Theatrical Boundaries by Caridad Svich, with an afterword by Patrice Pavis, and interviews with Hilary Bell, Stephen J. Bottoms, Ricardo Bracho, Jim Clayburgh, Jorge Ignacio Cortinas, Migdalia Cruz, Lisa D'Amour, Peter DuBois, Rinde Eckert, Erik Ehn, Tim Etchells, Dah Teater, Richard Foreman, Peter Gabriel, Guillermo Gomez-Pena, David Greig, Tanika Gupta, John Jesurun, Joanna Laurens, Phelim McDermott, Matthew Maguire, Chiori Miyagawa, Jose Esteban Munoz, Nick Philippou, Mikel Rouse, Peter Sellars, Naomi Wallace, Marianne Weems, Darron West, Susan Yankowitz, Maury Yeston.

A trip to a foreign country might push back scheduled events. The children urinate on trees in the park. Now the students want to hear about Plotinus and Origen and Elvis Presley. It's way too late for all of that. What is the point of abiding by nation. I'll abide the place, the name of the place. A cloud. A mirage. Their own brightness prevents them from seeing their own ineptitude. Poverty and nymphomania do not always make a great combination. Overhauling the engine is not always an option. Self-identification is what killed me in the first place. What made the majority of actions untranslatable. If only Man Ray would stop sniffing my fingers, I could drive through West Virginia in peace. I also can't dislodge find Heidegger's piece on Jarry. I'm going to eat catalpa clusters for feckless.

Reaganatrics: shinned creed as a cokehead socialist.

The more than one-thousand-and-fifty-ways not to speak.

"peacocks have blighted the ilex"

In Geneva I'll be from a mobile home park. I'll show culture my cavities and photo albums.

started Homo Sacer by Giorgio Agamben

My father and I used a chainsaw to cut down the chinquapin. Intestine succession. Someone else make fun of John Crowe Ransom's son of a gun and American monarch-envy. We stun bright newspaper pietimeheight. Glorious felony! I wanton academy lie mortise and tenon gorging a gradient mule schule too. So I'm learning fierce and task.

Write it on my forehead again. Something crass and evil. Then break my arm in three places.

No, I store gold and silver with Banco Popular

Marcel Mauss farted, and then he blamed it on me. No, that's not right. I wasn't born until the late 70s. Mauss died in 1950.

Determinism never killed the fog though. These movements are too complicated. I'm told there are more demons in the desert. Populist book reviews from the 1940s also contributed some money to the problem. What will I tell my father the next time I see him? Your gladiolus are brown. I can outrun the black bear. Most definitely.