Wednesday, November 28, 2007

The Rosy Fingered Dawn Rises --from Blood Red Oceans

"Rosy Fingered Dwn, the Child of Morning"--

Homer's phrase--rises from the Blood Red Oceans--
a "child of morning" or one of "mourning"--no, no elegiac moods, none at all----
the birth of things and the first letter (roman alphabet)--where the rising sun meets the blood red horizons--and sky and ocean run together--
fluids of light--the blood red stains and flows of birth--
and blood red transforms into a blood "read"--
and the blood in the within worlds, inside capillary flows and floods, flowing outwo/ards into a sky-ocean--

no longer any difference--

as veins flow among each other and from their mingling arises the "child of morning"--a first sight/sound--an "a"--an "ah"--

ecstatic presence of life--emerging--
from oceanic dreams to sky--

bled arm

"around a pole"
trust one (living)
dead "in
a red zone"
unclear arm hung
in a" model
late honda
window roll
roll (dribble) "new memory"
ease'd out
slowly (red white
red white red)
gurney up'd
interior (or) because'd
"in a,"
(and) siren rolling
out dark
line'd (red white)
jacket wearing
pulled sleeve
present with arm

Tuesday, November 27, 2007









into the cup of tea
(you dig?

"Why not?" said the March Hare.






(avec Eléonore Lebidois
((pour Clifford Duffy, with friendship...

d r a f t in g

1, 2 , 3 ,

interlaced finger
to high
roof ~


As Walking in the Woods---

Sunday, November 25, 2007


what is there a kind of gift made flight

surrender dot
matrix way of
looking limber
for a cause
tell about the treble
moss richly
card cap
and the living
dimes roll forward

Thursday, November 22, 2007

canonading thomas... d e A q...u ..

'I am almosting it ... '

Duffy dream of Aristotle as the lover mental of Aquinas in in the high and mightyful diction of the fictional historian, a hysterial conundrum in the order of the names of the roses[hysterialis not a typo reader] the schizo clothe that rhymes that word with rose. As for our good old Master Thomas __ indeed! Bully bellied Thomas suffered from avarice but is the angelic doctor of theology and his sweet tongue mastered the Aristotle to defeat the 'heretical' testimonies implicit in the then new thought of Islam .... suffice it to say the great Bach like cathedral of theological genius he erected was a pinhead to be forsworn by the Scotus. Ah, those masters of theology in Paris, and the quarrels, the Sentences of Peter Abelard! Ay! and no plodding was the intelligencer Aristotle his poetics his mimesis offering a range not found in the old academic repulic de Platon Palto Alto... oh Plakos tracking forever that shadow land of the Unreal Real Ideal! Vive la Aristotle's march into the Outside n' the actual . Poor old Thomas A... was considered a virtual heretic for a time, suffering in name and post-body an adhoc defense that only in time assumed his heavenly name of the aesthetic and the greatness of his awesome projections, Question, Answer, Proof, Reproof, Counter-proof and all the dances of the razor sharp logic and the accompanying grand edifice of his thought.

Contra Summa Theology
Contra Summa Gentiles

what masterpieces of Latin genius

think of it kiddies

written out by hand

a million words

a grand scholar famous among students few in our day his match or maker in them days, they was readers in the dark, candlelit scholars bent over cramped out of shape & youth by time's hard metricule Christianity a country spread over Europe
like a quilt, a Persian rug,
a thousand stencilled tapestry of
the rhizome scrolls of
its feudal mysteries
a hectic joy!
O haeccities of Scotus
and Thomas
of being
and becomings of smooth wrinkled foreheads

Carrying his books from town to town the pilgrim on the route to Rome sees a vision saying Mass His comment

'All my work seems as straw '

"Ista flumina olim occulta et quodammodo confusa erant, tum in similitudinibus creaturarum, tum etiam in aenigmatibus scripturarum, ita ut vix aliqui sapientes Trinitatis mysterium fide tenerent. Venit Filius Dei et inclusa flumina quodammodo effudit, nomen Trinitatis publicando, Matth. ult. 19: Docete omnes gentes, baptizantes eos in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Unde Job 28, 2: Profunda fluviorum scrutatus est et abscondita produxit in lucem. Et in hoc tangitur materia primi libri."

You dig this Mister Scotus Schiztus!
She Mona dig dug and glued her blue teeth to this booke!
Composes after ward, three songs
to his Christ_ Jesu mon pélican ~
to whom he compares the pérégrine
the pelican Jesu mon pélican quelle douleur!
O Christ pélican blood of the suffering


Easter god Visionary flight into the heavens As Appollinaire puts it 'Christ first aviator '

Ascending into Heaven

It has been a long time since I 've read my Thomas, but recalling the words of young Stephan Dedalus I recollect the fine predicates of the apprehension of beauty and the sweet retrieval of the Aristotle after 12oo years of banging Plato's drums, and the liberation by accident of Christianity from the measly shadows of Platonism's endless simulacrum as the walking talking thinker Aristote his peripatetic self a mouth to walk and speak botanists of the isles
teacher mentor to Alexander
the fine Greek nose
sniffing its way to India

and turn away no more in shame from the
traditio Christian
its pelicans

Christ aviator first flight into the Heavens
Ascension of the Immanent into the
Spinning jenny of the firmament


None[s] (pun intended) of which has much to do with K's grand divagations, but a wonder to behold moving around the swept place of its movements its tarnished image of thought,and its sideways gallivanating of what is and is not the
'fact'. Fiction, or furious fast life, we post metaphysicans dance a carrying card of agape and
the world umbilicus

thought is its own reward

Our Scotus and Doctors always grappling further inward into another shore. Of rhetoric and plain view polemic. All these windings are true fictions, epistemse of the better later self. These windings that are K F's snap dragon of thought. Bird and beast, butterfly and dragon , mythogram and sememe of desire muttering its entrances and exists.
Shall I read? Shall a writer read what is written? What is written? a prose kinema a scroll of deleterious probes. Always probes, scouts into the frontiers and border country side of ____

"I think I'll write something very simple and very short." [interview about the Fictions] Indeed the deterritorializing of all the figures of history is the way assemblogs work!


Day of Gratitude

thanks for the be wild e ring
array of what can be
sustained by heart
's imagination: cha in
rainbones transiting
from will in children's hands.

one looks into the sky
to find trilling
of a crafted fleck
dancing with eyelight

a moment flexible
enough to make true
as conscience drives
to upper regis
to and too in two


Science eye-glasses humanity

and my virgin vessel littleness

the journalist guides bows of all logic

& senses

into greasy negation /

[a speculative angel mechanism]

the orchestra of all thought excavates magnificent sudden Truth. anti-objective

amusing this individual Dada

philosopher of Science Dada

protest exists. like an add: puts system back

individual manure. ultimate disgust of philtres

like harmony, impotent phantom of logic,

economic objectivity

bashes the greased fiddle

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

ver ~


over the falling sea
the sea sea
you hear elm
but it aint no more
just willow talk
willow tick-tock
in the shaggy isthmus
bound by crater
thought and hungry penny hand-me-down
you rushed over
taking these matters in hand
(took these matinees in hand)
(bare gloss of)
merited a lover's gasp
we came
like that two troubadours reckoning on the end of brittle bone
in thistle down
ground you jerked away the hands
covering night's only rain
frosted with your intaglioed

as when ~

yerr breath is filled with something

as when
which is breathless

between teeth and b's

o that other pressing place



as when a sonnet snare it track
fumble over the high ground of its pentameter

or corseted crossing the rhetoric of its accident
you've sent the face this amber shell
carrying back its smitten fare

when it worked around the couplet
hankering a couple's lovered body
clacked by the Sunday coup-de-grace
pause its turn to legitimize grace of your hair
yer handing this finger clandestine
Sunday and moon clocks over
gathered in your sneaky feet

not necessary to you swill porches round-abouts
and card moochers

this is not night
a sonnet bearing down like a geese
out of shadow
a permanent toss between every expected page


New Blog-Book

Monday, November 19, 2007

Zero Poem--4-in-1 page folding book w/ lines by Mallarme ("A Tomb for Anatole"), Villon & dbc

A Bengal Squeal at the Opera Exchange

Row A:

Don't you
blind dance
Silk Hats (?)
eyes slow fizz
fearless Mr. Fay
to sing
before foot &
a decent shave
real good
damage business:
luck cab
to the German
at sunrise
she says..."home"
on the beat (9)

the cork game
up the "now" alley
committing a stroke-
drunk morning
o' clock the egg
& hauled Trixie
home through 1000
being sorry
white alley holding
safe breeze along
.....the walk
a trouble station
on the beat me(?) hat
an old Stella

(warned twice)

Sunday, November 18, 2007

recognizably interposed           meagerness                 donning forces       

through light and the thatched hole
irate and dewfall
the greyness and slipt and dewfall

holyday           thinning eroticism hustle

dear  suffocate              proscribed intensify

holiday denudation

paused and perused
in this relation there were three participants
one held xanthin, unaccented

brocades blot the first date    - prayerful

glancing  [donning]   glancing  [brutalized]   glancing   [interposed postoperative recomposition

columns           mop
           magnet tears               kindle


spelled meager                     forced                  split


Saturday, November 17, 2007

death and parataxis
top ramen

you do
not know me

allow me to
introduce myself

call me
people I trust

encompass lifeline after
life thus

dappled with
predictable requisite kismet


untitled, originally uploaded by empty chair.

Lesson One

From a new series. It's easier to see if you go to the original-sized image on flickr.

Sicker than Water Is Written: The Prevalent under Seige

Language that world, the “I”
World, order, an “I” but
Subjects “I” through enters

Insert paragraph

Open can while lid sucks life out

The big thing is

A made thing if you know what I mean
Tell someone

A goof on a road like a down spout

The “I” enters
A gross
A ton of Kerouac
In a world of world orders
“I” enters “I”
Open the paragraph
Stupid world order exposes lid

“I” sucks the life out
Kerouac enters

“It is through language that the child enters the social world—the symbolic
order—as an “I”…”

Can be excluded, in sick
Can they exclude, of
Criminal epistemes
Of can through exclude. case
Of defined exclude
What or exclude

Nature vs. intro to PoMo-ism excludes
Dictionary field
Of opposites
Attract lice over the hillocks of Des Moines, IA
Criminal lice of can
Sick criminal epistemes often

Entrapped smuggle of
& lice are a game aboard money transacted
Of sick
& opposites in sled Des Moines, IA

“The criteria of epistemes can be defined through what, or whom, they exclude
or disqualify. In the case of modernity—the mad, the sick and the criminal…”

It precedes phase INFANT &
Infant it precedes
& we
The precedes
We acquire language
It acquires precedes phase
INFANT & infant imaginary language
To the
To the
Them diamonds
Look at
The words
What is
Precedes the phase
Electric dog on leash sums up
Imaginary phase is dumped into metaphor superstitious in laughs
Of circum-plotted
The INFANT trod a Pound dingy out

Sky like a Canto
Of Duchamp

This way to the sink art

“The infant imaginary phase precedes language and contributes
to the way we acquire it.”

Of self arrives from from
Sense arrives from
A sense of arrives from
A sense of arrives
Self arrives a or the
Imaginary reflection


Artist at Work

Je rouge le monde rien

Abstraction alone is not a steak & chips
But who is
A sense of the death of the fly baby sitter
Times Porter making book

Space alludes to it
If it is signed & you can piss in it
The name exists
Taking TUMS to the orifice
Of dreams

Self arrives
Imaginary reflection of
A porcelain URINAL from Standard Fixtures Inc

Signed r. dog &
Pony street mogul’s
The name

“A sense of self arrives externally, from a reflection, or from the imaginary.”

Of originality
Total years lack
Are symptomatic “pstmodern” originality
Symptomatic originality
These years lack
These years symptomatic of lack
These “pstmodern” years
Are symptomatic

Taboos & sad glad rags off the dike cum Sunday
Appear tv
Like a wand with no star
Opulent itinerary satchel of “pstmodern”

If you glaze your same
Ice will

Like a dean of green trousers shouting
The Rx is in

The tube is a subway
I fix

I am cooler than Ice Tea
The name
Is symptomatic

Bizarre primitive looking glass eye on the world

Oh, Dada, why are you so
Blonde & feral?!
Oh, why?!
Oh, why?!

But the suit is a broad interpretation of opera

At least it was the ‘60s

“These 'postmodern' years are symptomatic of a total lack of originality."


Thus time possesses fool

the amused and human known as Santayana,

somewhat time antics self-knowledge us;

could while he gloats highest

untiring times

will to will

Not passionately realising my breast; barbarous;

stare he him his is mad.

holds he on protective interests.

He -- shells reveries, encases her dear.

same actual convulsions keep Him too exhausted

i keep the animal act, feel heavy armour leash

intelligent vacant dust reaches my world;

but brute miss retains self-control.

his might be purpose.

integument signals man

I recognise imperfections

folly intelligence

integument signals man

integument signals man

flip me a nickel/to call him a god

Friday, November 16, 2007


I was carrying the reply here in my pocket, after dully reproaching the speaker of the solictied gathering of fellow. spat. comme tout le jours. you were wrong as ice calm as mallow. parried by hearted promenaders over the meadow

near the care
his back
thinking wounds

found leaf
unearthed share

The Unfolding Drama of the Found

WPA during the 1930's Great Depression in USA was the Works Progress Administration created by President Franklin D. Roosevelt
The WPA provided jobs for and AS painters, writers, musicians, artists and crafts persons in a great many media, as well as jobs for workers in all manner of trades--
Obviously these "evils of socialism" have long since been removed from the American Way of Life--
unless found, mysteriously appearing on sidewalks after the rains, with their "dangerous messages"--)

Photogravures of an Exiting Neruda

....a niche in the pavement,
black hat head-spun southward

in glassy trill, the din of clock and
........springtime sprig snap
......or that of an existing wound-- intimate passerby:

........shadow musician
....accustomed to striking bow
........along alley corridors

......with hands & heart you
.......... greet him

.....expecting a great performance;
................a spectacle’ve only once encountered
.......from a bird, dusky nightingale,
.........who sung mournfully
.....through the salty spray
.. of the sea.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

astral wheel

Not signed from yer body of hearts & knaves such petulance is a lance re-regardin' the death of insouciance .a leather child sauntering to the corner of humming Away Away down south in Dixie Away Away and the pecadillo is the treatment
for serious majors in minors

but is major strong?
Is Major Strong?
is Death incumbent?
Is Strong Great and Major?
Is great necessarily Strong?
what is wrong with this capitalist fuzz?
it's the fuzz the fuzz somebody call the police
somebody call
call the fuzz

its the natural hair rinse in the moment
of its crude warning
against your chin

well I Don LunaTicTock charge with my Bed Post!
to salve the slave wounds of your stockings!
my dear lover dover!
I am Lord Bryon's beckon post!
shall a knee knock your shape?

Oh shapen monkey of mule!
and hexameters before the Prince of France
what the fuck do you know!
he spouted drinks coming from his head
some tease was waiting in the bathroom
her blooming teeth
her lips
her cococa coloured tint
swooned me breath
as bodies leapt stairs
tearing my glance apart!
after all these decades of cases
moods, gerunds, promises of pronouns
bitches of classes
rudes of wents
ignores of morbid
ignorant of morning
but my summer bathes were none too soon
bells a-ringing! a-ringing!
hear the hearkener!

Damn them forth those comments
paranormal elliptical sheets
rearward glaborous
glance to her ass
sideways to the three
quarter profile
and I walked her home
-Opath each & every night
a glad alligator of her tooth
and rye
some goodbye she was to Margaret of my name
silly wham of roses in her soft
pasted eyes
not a drag queen at all!
but a man in woman's clothes!
bearing her beard with tom tom repents!
relent! I cried I cried!

take yer dominatrix home
sp\are my tomb without organs
and the savory moonshine of
maiden aunts
some relations
've no relations
as I have worn her sleeve
in my puffed ways for centuries
I swashbuckle engineer

Here are my letters torn from Abyssinia from Haraar. I am the tooth that would not say goodbye.

Yes, yes! torn from my brave book of hell
let her go to hell
I am weary of these old wars of publishing
no one writes the way
so yer name is that is it?
well so, so be it.
we have a desert to complete
derelict of our dialect
frig duty!
cuss me lover
with lashed eyes
swept with naked frenzies

From each side to see the other touch the line to find each other seeing each other

to find
one an other other an one
to touch the line
line the touch to
find to

fine fair

ok for folding fauna faun as classcal boogie woogie. it kept beating the ring. ok . ok. he said her dad died of aids, and her mumma boinked her in the butt! when she was but a bumbumper herself! imagine just sucha night.

if the font dont work. hmm. we are tired of selfexpression. some how one night at vincennes prof. deleuze said this astounding thing juste avant le fin de le nuits
les gens s'exprime trop
on a besoins des espace de silence

she lean her mouth
right over his ya-know-what?
well she was two heads to his one
a double backedbisexual loveaffair

ind yourself [the concept of self at best is a dubious one]
lovers wear many bodies hat and [ one senses a dedunceday in

you [must] [really? says who?]
wear many mask [to] find yourself [the concept of self at best is a dubious one]
lovers wear m

any bodies hat and [ one senses a dedunceday in
allez chez
go to fictions
rainbow as S is curve to its intelling kanight

janicht tonight and night its benighted purse as
canter to a feeding horse so wented lovers paint
caterwauling their true complaint ~ it was here their herring-bone plague
topped its hour most silk clinging to
the roofed body as they came the

roof of her cleave came to his clocking arms

comment: tentative

for any textual compo...

if variants of the text are forms of
when does seduction
commence start, stop?
re[a]el life apparently does go on


for any textual compo...

if variants of the text are forms of
when does seduction


curled up into an interrogation point

there we (watchful
slept as (blessing
easily as (comma
summer came (vested
to wash (routine
the spring (away
away from (small
vivid b/rains (contrarian
tempura fraught (look
exteriors joined (invisibly
inner life toward


YAHOO.Shortcuts.hasSensitiveText = true;
YAHOO.Shortcuts.sensitivityType = [""];
YAHOO.Shortcuts.location = "us";
YAHOO.Shortcuts.lang = "us";
YAHOO.Shortcuts.document_id = 0

YAHOO.Shortcuts.document_author = "";
"predictionProbability": "0",
"weight": 1,
"linkRel": "nofollow",
"extended": 0,
"linkHref": "",
"linkTarget": "_blank"

Felt this because he saw himself reflected in his wife....... ( knife???).

He felt the good and bad within himself inextricably were bargaining for precedence.....( a precis dance ??)

He had betted he would sell his coal........(soul???) ..... for two thousand ;

......incomprehensible...... as .......CHAPTER VII......556......Sovereign......

...... that good, enchanting, and great man!...... sweet......

Let us drink to his health and to the defeat of his pride.......(bride???), he muttered.

"link target": " _blank "

"link Rel": "nofollow"

"extended": 0

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Through the chink in the fence

through the chink in the fence--

a strip of sky & earthen wall--

in what faraway land

among hostile forests--

to sit in someone else's room
among books not mine
& write about the sky

to pen ghosts' writings,
take dictations of phantom songs

the untold, the unwritten
hidden in plain sight

--david-baptiste chirot 11/11/07 Veterans Day, for my friends here & gone

Monday, November 12, 2007

"the eye I can't defend"

Even path worn by night reveals

partner steering feet smoothly
cold taste gambling ground
and green stuff deadly I forget
to use while changing
names in a rented basement

Return to youth infected
with cheap narrative
belief strings smaller and longer
that frame desire unnoticed

Stick clothing in the eye
I can’t defend
pretty with stain transparent
winter lapse drops fixation
across street pushing hard
for the right to burn my realistic
song twice alone

Night of the Living[dead] Twiggy(for Marco ;-))

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Verdi wrote a pretty pipe text furnished by a brush
fire Verdi in a pincer form of hesitancy brimmed
over overtly with an urge gleaned from projection
to meringue some geometric scarves into sonority

now the feather hazards line these fricative
young streets and parings of the clot of sub
stance load a tiptop tonal range that one
might learn thus to accomodate sprung hissy

fits of doublet or duvet a farthing from
the real thing nesting in a plot and carved
from robust moodlined silver bay ridge
something Verdi was a pomp boy simmering

with volume and minced nest and he was right
about the womb thing worlded he was also
priding selves of his on some normal dist-
bequeathed to who he was and would be (will)

pomme_s de terre (a receipt

(for David-B. C., with friendship and many thanks...


Raccourcis : appuyez sur Ctrl et : B = Gras, I = Italique, P = Publier, S = Enregistrer, D = Brouillon

on re ti re le sel de l'eau de la mer ou de la ter re.

gn. oul. ien. ail. euf. oin. eil. eul. eau. ll. euil. au.

on retire du sel de la mer.

ec. el. er. es.

on enterre on rit de la mer.

bec. fer. sel. sec. ver. bel. mer. res.

on trie du recel la merde.

on re ti re le sel de l'eau de la mer ou de la ter re.

in sec te de ver re res te le sel.
a vec sou ples... se é chel le ter re.
tour te rel le pa res... se.
ga bri el le bel cher che sa bre tel. le.
un clas se u ne.
la vi tes se de l'a vion fer me le por tail.
ves ton neuf boi ra bon vin.
foin du sec.

on re ti re le sel de l'eau de la mer ou de la ter re.

la lie erre tourterelle la. la. la. serv ante souplesse.



gabriel restera seul:

DEUX fois NEUF plus UN ou llllllllll lllllllll 10+9

(photo: peggy lagarde

Friday, November 9, 2007

"Light Remains" Print

From painters, poet, composers:

> Dear David-Baptiste,
> It is with deep gratitude to you that I'm sending you,
> and all the others on our list, a copy of your
> beautiful, provocative print. May it help us all to
> see that light remains as well as to realize that much
> work remains.

> With all good wishes,
> Josef

> By the way the exact message that was sent out with
> the pdf version of "Light Remains" follows:
> David-Baptiste Chirot explains: "'Light Remains' is
> from a series of pieces called 'No Place to Move,' a
> series within a much larger one to do with Walls,
> which has been going on for the last 17 months now."
> The title comes from a phrase he made for another
> series a few years ago: "'To absorb darkness until
> all that remains is light'--(the opposite of a Black
> Hole)--Light having the ancient associations which
> continue to this day--and 'Light Remains'--even when
> hope may seem gone--it remains--'One cannot hide from
> that which never sets,' as Heraclitus says. So though
> people my be Walled off, imprisoned, 'disappeared,'
> and turned into non-persons--yet they exist--and Light
> Remains--they are visible--and see through those
> fences and Walls--even when it says 'no place to
> move'--
> "A lot of the pieces are inspired by the situation of
> the people inside Gaza--and then extended and
> continuing to extend to many more areas and situations
> all around one in the world in which Walls may be
> thought of as censorship, surveillance, "security"—not
> only physical Walls, mental and spiritual ones--and
> ones made by language, built with words and images--
> "Light Remains" also as it is the constant in the
> relativity theory for example--all these Walls and
> words change through time--can be changed in time--so
> to see even through the fence and a chink in the
> Wall--is creating an opening--possibilities--"
> David-Baptiste's email address is:
> The pdf version of "Light Remains" is attached. An
> limited edition of 25 has been printed.


nose hairs

nose hairs yer deisisting desire machine. fallout flapping in the wind.yer semiparalysed body. parlay to I. we are loved. we do it. over again.i hold your breast closer to me. this time. spiraled time. forgive my body for living alone too long.

desire its all economic _ all of it.

I'm another
Im another
Im another
Im another
Im another

Im always the other
Im always the other
Im always the other

Thursday, November 8, 2007

oracular vision

as in coarse abrupt voices
poured the full tide of enigmatic song
I looked out the window
able to look at myself
easily lift the eyelids
where the sun broke from gloomy ravines
from the grave, from eternal darkness

to absorb darkness--

until all that remains--

is light

Cover Girl

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

As long as we're showing covers


Disarration is is perfect....:)
intangloed wif e a....graphic/al model....(:) She kiss stub:
wear groery billtobed. beddid what hand cannot not. at border station. lover
flet. Oh come around yer led. come all yafaithful. yer not daffodil. she came out of fidelit

:what is disarration? a crisscross between ... this and that... we wont say except to say as the text crosses its own becomings invente your ownlanguage. yes. well that easier say than do.

re-versing my dissarration desesoir
k tea. and am arevising my disseration. yes, a

in qua qua


sent his clearner back to thi s


discuss connotation [conation]


Fi[n]gure[s] of sspeech . Figures of body. Her wasitline, for instance, her wand like shape. Her unqueenly like buttocks. Fully womaned by the aiming sun and not the wimps of.... Wimp of ngiht and day she enjoy so your pdf . Button.


C;1; you meant to write: intaglioed as jeu de mot sur le phrase qui suive. commen "sweet thames...Suive thames joui jouiIr des .."

Bonjour M. Dubuffet et Rachel--comment-allez vous?

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Cover for current issue

This is cover for the current issue of the Bengali/English online poetry journal Kaurab.

Domestic Interlude w/XBOX

Just popped clear
Of small dog
In recliner

Strange managerial sanctions have been put into place
Be patient

This war is not an editorial
Plucked by a swan
Or an ideal

We can fix this
No XBOX to rule

In exchange
Dada manifests
Triple threat
For only son(y)

Angels reason duck blind
Ransoming shouts

Never ever hotwire
The rich angels’ Audi

The machine is full
Lay them on the container near the furnace
Till then

Plain trees
Flung with monstrous
Moth wings

Monday, November 5, 2007

Mishimichaux I

words from Henri Michaux translated david-baptiste chirot
mishima words from Thirst for Love

Sunday, November 4, 2007

orpheus tab taxi

orpheus took tab taxi browser
orphee prend un taxi dame un loup qui tire au foret de Dostoïevski

foxing her thumb to antigone... taxied to dancer ... was

antigone giveth parlez vous en francais les jeunes amants ca brise comme les amants de ...leman lewomban... alors alor... Orphee descende tres vites. .. Ca bouge, non? ... alor... alors... on voir ... les choses... rorphee descende antigone goneorpheedecelle les parapluies et ici on voit des choses ... tres clair... tres Clare...



j'ai l'impresion que c'est pas emphysème.

aussi c'est peut-etre un question de sememe et le texte... etc..etera... non

-Glossy caplet
monk in visor cap glossing orpheus

[Would mnd justifying yer columns! Sir yer dumb show pantomine gesture does not concern the text as bougeable objet d'art.


Is that Monk or Mona?

per marco

shy.....sweet thames run ....tema... lock loud nor long... ... leman... twisting... gold plate...e.... d
run softly i sing not the waters of leman...


Yes, I know, go on. Wash quit and don't be dabbling. Si, lo so, e

resso? Lava pulito e non s
sweet ... leman.. t

isting... gol
d breast plate...e.... d
run s


tly i sing


by the waters of leman...

a fl

ced song cro

wn her param
ours brid
he old cheb w

ent futt and did what you know.

Beh, sai quando il


zone an

dò in rov

uma e fe' ciò che


Yes, I know, go on. Wa

sh quit and don
al day

not long by the w

out Anna LemanS! I want t

o heresay hersay Anna Livia.


di Anna Livia. T

utto sa

telltale of Anna A

nnapere vo' di An

na Livia.


Livies co
urse weal

Wew Anna

Livia? Yes, of c

ourse, we all

lovely daughte

rs of the flood t


osed hair... strin

ging along...
Sweet Tha
mes, run softly, till I e
nd my song.
song. A flock of nymphs I

chancéd to All

lovely daug
hters of the flo by the


of leman i sa
down and wept...
sweet t


d my song

sweet tham

es, run softly

for i


not loud or long...

all my w

ords a


words on parole...

all my w

ords a


words on parole...
O tell me all abo

Spencer , Joyce , Eliot , et transductions


uncertainty to which assemblage can work in limited frame webblog
effectively here there or

but as desire-machine work only ....

when they break down

its all good