Saturday, March 29, 2008
matriculist might shadow
only the dimlit daunt
clout and spring
you doozie of a girl
enigmatic con brio
see to shying back
in a drizzway
long of ruth
making your own
awake just like
the leaflets and the diary
Friday, March 28, 2008
His warrior maidens flash 5th Avenue filigree demented buzz up at hollow cost
In honest linen jazz suit salient springtime-NY
These gals have got it made folks
In this postmodern error
Nadir of maidens dobbing charms on
For odes to Suzie Q
Adorn themselves in stoles of mink
It’s what any man insist She own
Zany rubber-cuffed petal pusher Zionist boat guilders of meniscus spin
W/ diamond accent dwarves wharf peonies
These whacky cool lots sturdy work around the house
Or just novelty
In rooms of the wing we inhabit
Crossing Time on a spoon
Who should respond phallic toting free verse ointment boys
Dashing in contemporary cargo pants
& classic surfer-wear from Ron Jon’s
Ever prevalent miniskirt rhapsodic in hue
As she walks—Cubist in taxi stand dollars & sense
A darling look for work or play
These days the biz is show
Dilemmas sizzle golden sunset harlequin kazoos
Don’t go natty in yr blue collar tee yr dead
Classically-ripped denim genie lake district sucking opium dwarf
Wooden crutches wonder up Eccles St.
Headed nowhere in full flowing beards
These beard-sporting lugs turn a girl’s head floored southern cross a mile stone
Strung out panic stunning double breasted chicken
Pinstripe suit & black Chucks are in
The final canary stirs conquest diamond spooky nook NY
Posing paparazzi fabulous sear sucker
Starlet potater salad singer NY the 4th fireworks rollicking
Liberty Island clam dig shebang
& now the animals
Sheep lie down feather beds accessorized in
Ruby tiaras studded fine quality gemstones
Miss Piggy walks the dream cloud
In sling back pumps
Real burning turnips
Cute blue driving gloves telling tulips the truth
Dress up your man winter thought-mouse laughter existence
Shitting his skivvies
Was never this tame
& just for funnseys poem-chute cagey waterwheel bent axle for funnseys
This guy is for real!
The poet spins onion flesh stands poignant
Talking film schools to Walt Whitman
With clear vinyl pockets
Cider churns Walt images of Spokane or cider
Caution tontine roll over decadent orchestra alleviates spin
This brings us classic black
Formatted apples have no butt end of days to negotiate
Miracle silk evening gowns
Design working moms in mind
Chuggers of ale grapple Ludic daddy long legs
Arrive rollicking Fruit of the Looms
THIS END UP!
Freezing to slums No one say dowdy
Peach is the color
Watch as Walt pivots
The runway Potater salad eaters
Step out calf skin biker jacket to practical methodical death
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
(him). how I know
of his home
were all pores.
he chapped his
not look out.
there were sirens.
there was bread
there was intention
as piles of snow
July or so
as sand the way
it piles new
fact of life
from a dedication
you know one
see one yes
Exits to gobs of bladed gymnosperm
Existentially a dodger written out
Swims cabal pool fabulists upon bean can of note
Vis-à-vis civic b/icicle cubicle visitor darts unsuspectingly across dark street
AC buffer of curds lapses Dizzy Miss Lizzie off Benadryl suspiciously
Impugning impact effect craned by a wincher
Modeled on wavelengths
A twin light’s a fraction harmonized in spring fashion
Twisted nomadic glyphs of the future pan fry a claw in Zurich underground DadAville
Painted lady context du jour never better than big putsche to beer hall
Hastens jumping bean sur l’herb on line adieu crazy eights a shock
Sired retro cocks’re in demand on top of Old Smokey
Assume Candler Pinnacle Zip Drive mounted twice upon claw hooks a poem
Motors distinctly glossy with nocturnes sing eponyms
All 7 beans on looms disappear
Implies carnie-grid julep swan canary row powers up oddly
A cent of ovens
Cunning cuts thru
Two ecstatic ploys arrive simultaneously
Hard copy original sentiment vs. Folgers’ Classic Roast cuddle bunny intelligence
Cut & pasted to death marches but sincerely
Franker prior Kulturistas paddle over Fall River falls
Spume of owl claw routinely Earl Grey
May explain espresso jury cult 60 proceeds thru door with boots
The quality of mercy is something
I still have wet clothes in the sidereal mannequin
For what I am doing (seduction’s a drake
&why I am here
The difference is between vowel sounds
A series of (flute ménage
One pall cast across 9 hillsides contains 66 little Position 55s
Snow-white / pine-green / fresh-brown graves spill axioms
Tsunamis grow weary
The seizures are owned / appear managed
Concerning “the laundry” “the grocery tab” “the plumbing”
“the cable guy coming after noon but before 6”
For those that are suffering
Impedance is Art
The dust in a bowl
Pistol nicotine grand piano slumbers like god in fun house abuse
Carnival extremely meat horrid!
Grotesquely mirror-ly BLAM! It is dust
Little wampum feet creatures span like a bridge looking out
The maze has a moniker a countenance
Beware of Iceland looking up shoe in Tunnel of Love
Monday, March 24, 2008
come on you doggerel be morseled into half the wheat
this chard reduces you to feathery fine sure spires
talk to me the radiator's tone dry and the milk
belongs to papists and their progeny nobody hears of
nominate your breast someone and I'll be paranoid
for bettering your soft spot for another heart gone by
the leash is trucey I love fresca and the banded lotion mounts
the sandy respite gives its ounces back to happening
my motion sap is dinnery
your madrigal goes here
I think I'm trying to be envious
when I have everything I need
you know the fur piece that I wear around my ankle
that's your fur and that's your ankle
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
El Ojo de Dios
For Leonardo Sciascia
“J’ai trop a ecrire, c’est pourquoi je n’ecrire rien.”—Stendhal, Journal, 1804
Part the First: Insects and Letters
El Colonel smiles. Bright birds sing in the morning air. Limpid light through the wide open windows bathes the high celinged room’s whitewashed stone walls. The coolness of night, refreshing as nearby mountain streams, rises in the wake of dawn’s departing mists. “The promise of a good day is given unto him,” El Colonel hums, imitating the cadences of a childhood hymn.
El Colonel smiles. With practiced precision, his favorite adjutant appears, “true to the appointed minute, ever mindful of detail.”
El Colonel smiles. Along with his great fondness for alliteration, El Colonel has an addiction for placing thoughts, those improvised compositions, in quotation marks. This brings “a deft touch of intriguing and entertaining irony to the most prosaic of ideas, events, and persons “ Habituated to an imaginative isolation, El Colonel’s intellectual companions are his “compositions” with their attendant “commentaries,” “asides,” “digressions,” and “annotations.” By means of this “ironic distancing” he continually invents “a hitherto unknown and as yet unpublished form of writing, never before seen nor heard.”
El Colonel smiles. This writing is a method of creating for himself a reader who is in turn accompanied by his own doubling as a writer. Where there had been “no one with who to share his most intimate thoughts, the fullness and agility of his life,” there is now not only such a companion; there is also a recorder of “his deeds and exploits.” In such a way El Colonel simultaneously acts, writes and reads both for himself and to another, who is also both a reader and an other author in turn, providing El Colonel with his own role as a reader. By these means his life takes on an aura of legend, and he acts both as though creating the performance of something which is happening, and of something which has happened “already.” By the latter means, his life is taking place in a futurity in which it is read, and in a present in which it is written. The simplest acts and words are invested with the immediacy of a drama “taking place,” the glow of “great acts having taken place ,” and, to heighten both drama and aura, the precisions of a prefatory “about to take place,” which allows for the insertion of the necessary commentaries, directions, and asides. “For the benefit of the listener, for the pleasure of the reader, for the background material necessary to the writer,” as El Colonel describes it with relish in a self-penned blurb.
El Colonel smiles. “Implacable face of an idol, obsidian eyes set in burnished copper,” the handsome adjutant stands before him with the morning’s first batch of dispatches, files, runner-delivered letters, and neatly folded and crisp “primarily Provincial” newspapers. The adjutant is one of El Colonel’s pet projects, “a raw recruit before our very eyes transformed into a perfect specimen of youth tempered with discipline.”
El Colonel smiles. The adjutant’s high cheek bones and broad shoulders “indicate a physiognomy and physique in harmony with the topography.” “Impassive, inscrutable, O what rock hewn ages has your being not known,” El Colonel hums as the bright birds sing.
El Colonel smiles. Snapping to attention, the handing over of the documents being accomplished, the adjutant speaks in clear, carefully enunciated tones. “Colonel today is the one appointed for your meeting with El Ojo, at 10.00 hours.”
El Colonel smiles. With a slight broadening of his lips, El Colonel indicates to the expectant adjutant that he, too, may smile. A smile which El Colonel “knows full well he is eager to indulge in.” El Ojo is well known to be a great favorite with the men of the “Heroic Patrol.” His meetings with El Colonel “inspire and arouse curiosity even among the most stoic.” Sometimes these meetings change nothing more in the daily routine than this “elevation of interest”; sometimes “they indicate an imminent Action of the Heroes.”
El Colonel smiles, the adjutant smiles. “El Ojo,” El Colonel pronounces with firmness, and, with a broad gesture indicating that a small table and two large chairs are to be advanced to the center of the room, adds, “Prepare the strongest Reserve coffee and bring two pack of unsealed cigarettes.” It is well known that El Ojo will only smoke cigarettes whose seals are broken before his watchful gaze.
El Colonel smiles. Going to the wide open window he gazes through aviator sunglasses at the bright birds, the luminosity of the landscape and “reflects on the irony that reflective glasses shield one’s reflections from observing eyes by their mirrored reflections of a thwarted inquiry.”
El Colonel smiles. Behind the reflecting sunglasses, “his own reflections concern themselves with a reflection found within the ‘Author’s Note’ to the Second Edition of Joseph Conrad’s The Secret Agent, a copy of which he found when literally ransacking a small private library whose owner he had been ordered to take possession of.” El Colonel “recollects in tranquility,” that the passage had “greatly interested, inspired and amused him, for in it Conrad had written: ‘Man may smile and smile but he is not an investigating animal. He loves the obvious. He shrinks from explanations. Yet I will go on with mine.’”
El Colonel smiles. Watching the play of light on large leaves upon whose surfaces insects have begun to gather “seems to remind him of the play of the light even in the cool dimness of the library on the leaves of the book, upon whose surfaces the letters had gathered.” This “doubly reflecting” aspect of his seeing and his recollections strikes him “as an image of the intimate intercourse of the natural and human worlds, of the revelatory union of the exterior and interior of consciousness, and of the synchronistic simultaneity of the moment and a memory which doubles as its mirror.”
El Colonel smiles. Conrad’s man who may smile and smile, loving the obvious and shrinking from explanations, he finds himself to be the “paradoxical embodiment of the contradiction of.” For, “reading Conrad’s words crawling on the leaves of the book in the cool, shadowy light, he had found himself, not as the one described, but as the union of the description and its author. As both the smiler and the investigative explainer who describes and refutes him, as the one whose task it is to bring into being their union. As and in himself. And in that moment he experienced the recognition of his unique Vocation and of himself. “
El Colonel smiles. “To smile, to love the obvious, and to present and preserve the explanation which both the smile and the obvious conceal, the reflections behind their reflecting surfaces. This, this is his alone, this unique vocation, this great passion, this most confidential mission.”
El colonel smiles. Checking his watch, he turns and approaches a chair on one side of the table set in the center of the large light filled room. This chair and the one on the table’s other side are high backed, with strong arms of a wood hard as iron and painted in a still shiny black lacquer. The upholstered seats and backs are not uncomfortable and of a worn red fading into rose. With studied and precise, angular movements, El Colonel begins to arrange himself in the correct position in which to be found by his “immanent and eminent visitor.”
El Colonel permits himself a barely audible and very brief laugh as “he takes possession of himself the better to assiduously arrange the head, the torso, the limbs, the folded hands, as though he were in the process of preparing a stuffed and mounted specimen of a representative example of a Colonel, whose taxidermist he himself was.”
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
In Big Mac® F L nailed coffin men fire up the singing apes
To gobs of boob drake darker taller tan than false anatomy
Begetting Beefaroni® biscotti taunting iota buds in airport flex hold
Thin Edie I mean
This doxa rotisserie goofs the spelling bee
Is nutnbut a bit a bio for pilot light duty in the sky with hi jinx
Tease the scrotum aweful broad zany grey spot light with doom hands of luck
A coxswain burly (b)ikeman swoons reversing golf
What is it up
In fast food chutes of Spain
La Toya’s tiger-Toyota purrs so mellow man back seat
Her groin dialectic-construct spins hussies free with hurrumph I’m home
Her jingle-juice isolated neon titty bits to block, please, Alex
The view is twisted round Hussein neck tie of hemp
Olde Ruskie bible trick
String ‘em up at gunless tea estranged by ten
Twinkie-fart & seltzer-St. Elsewhere / sunless sea
Come on like monkey launching pad tv canoe / sunless bee
Stars patter the anciennes / fun-less tree
Meatless Melissa revolves strident on Corningware® rock pile / pun-less Klee
Paced gymnastically her bag’s a blur of jacked off man flesh / cunt-less Dee
Blunt disposable tissue bagged for the index people / punt-less fee
Adam’s atoms pulled tightly on / hut-less knee
Bandanas signify naked Tina Toner A# for pitchmen / cutlass spree
Bridget’s flix dot com cum onyx wet dream cum massacre dot com / shunt-less lee
Citified scum of birth wombat etcetera the boyz know / hapless he
Her sins are multiplexed / chapped lip seed
Animus doodles in her Rolodex / map-less deed
Scams Bob Hopi one last reed patch soul-less Vegas noxious honey bee / tongue-less feed
Bleached pi blonde escapes alien body dump site tsar with clap / sapless greed
Alternate cruelty in thong wrong & flyboy in flip flops / dung-less spree
I gun yr f-stop Marco to dizzy lizard happenstance / gun-less tea
This last fuse is wit / bun-less oui
Monday, March 10, 2008
Work by David-Baptiste Chirot, Bonnie MacAllister, Deborah Poe, Andy Nicholson, Ed Schenk, Cralan Kelder, Manas Bhattacharya, Pradip Datta, Alexander Jorgensen, Brent Calderwood, Pat Clifford, Kathup Tsering, Tim Martin, Subhashis Gangopadhyay, Peter Grieco, and Elena Stefoi.
Black Robert Journal
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Cunning cuts thru.
Two ecstatic ploys arrive simultaneously.
Falser than palsied: yammerer.
E. g. hammerer, stammerer, etceterer.
Banana hammock blinds vital forward textual motion.
Modeled on wave lengths.
Hard copy original cut & pasted. To death.
Marches but sincerely.
& franker than prior Kulturistas.
For winter season.
Axiomatically. Went over the falls.
Spume of the owl claw routinely.
May explain use of the first person: I.
Espresso cult 60 jury trial proceeds thru door with boots.
Anxious per nexus.
As a crutch.
Or test tube.
The quality of mercy is something.
A mail drop.
Monday, March 3, 2008
someone with a shrill beak sings. we nest where there are hearts. we integrate our stories, until each seems just a fraction of the curve, said the misty-eyed, stay-in-bed dictator our meandra at a time of creed. conform to house rules.
I am only half your father. teach me to endow your batten-down in place of Thackeray. when injurious new robes are worn, must I admit to what they bring? our stamina accounts for why the population speaks ill of our bed.