Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Otoliths 9

Otoliths issue nine is live.

This issue marks the beginning of Otoliths' third year, & once again contains a great variety of text & visual work. This issue is dedicated to Rochelle Ratner, who passed away on March 31st.

In this issue are Rochelle Ratner, harry k stammer, Adam Fieled, Bill Drennan, David-Baptiste Chirot, Joel Chace, Michael Farrell, Reed Altemus, Andrew Lundwall, Douglas Barbour & Sheila E. Murphy, William Doreski, Duane Locke, Stu Hatton, Joe Balaz, Jeff Harrison, Raymond Farr, Esa Mäkijärvi, Bobbi Lurie, Julian Jason Haladyn, Simon Perchik, Suzanne Grazyna, Eileen R. Tabios, Diana Magallón & Jeff Crouch, Jeff Crouch & Matina L. Stamatakis, Thomas Lowe Taylor, Glenn R. Frantz, Angela Genusa, Randy Thurman, Philip Byron Oakes, Mark Cunningham, Geof Huth, Andrew Topel & Jim Leftwich & John M. Bennett, John M. Bennett, John M. Bennett & Luigino Solamito & Sheila E. Murphy, John M. Bennett & Scott MacLeod, Scott MacLeod, Robert Gauldie, Adam Strauss, Marcia Arrieta, Elizabeth Kate Switaj, William Allegrezza, Ernesto Priego, Ed Schenk, Irving Weiss, Mary Kasimor, Christopher Major, Derek Owens, Paul Siegell, Daniel f Bradley, Daniel Morris, Steve Timm, Mary Ellen Derwis, Thomas Fink, Louise Landes Levi, Toni Simon, Martin Edmond & Kirsten Kaschock.

Otholith issue 9

from The Cinema of Catharsis: Terror briefing

from "The Cinema of Catharsis"--"What 'Marlboro Man'?"

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Various Suppositions & Thus Western Spangled Fry Cook

The enthralled supposition of one falsity escorts
A dull knife ensconced in evidentiary panoplies

All but Rorschach revivifies angst-ridden lard detectives
Against victual unnatural Freud
Diddled by us post civil war

Great glaring shite-mongers revolt
& grand revoking—
Basilisks bashed by Irish & old navy & scurvy contagion
Vast & beautifully spew a fry cook

Open ellipsis spans westward partnered by dolomite extremities

American-flexed a lo-boy’s a solo

Pinocchio in pidgin wonder stands handcuffed
& deranged before tribunals of verse
His lies riven tout de suite

His lavish & cuckolded & tit-laden mistresses breakfast
Beside him in arch-cuckolding canopy beds
Champagne & boot soles & charters for instinctual appetizers

A commodity’s insight debauches his soles
In the throes of modality’s wenches
Her highnesses’ histrionic vivisections grown
Dominant in the king’s bedchamber-heart

And thus battled poems

Corporeal grief inane on the mane of golden-flecked oceans
Exploits
&/or crosses
Anything manifestly bound to the page

Our common folk’s knell keening
In bizarre atmospherics till toady Darwin edits puns
Bluntly with a pen
x-ing out sadness & various suppositions

"Lonely Street" O'des----(for Angela)

"Where's this place called
Lonely Street?"

--as sung by Kitty Wells













"Down at the end of Lonely Street
there's a place to dwell . . .
and the name of the place is
Heartbreak Hotel"

(written by Otis Blackwell; sung by Elvis Presely)

"Speech Acts" Exhibition Postcard






These images were also used for a poster, cover of the Dudley Review and more will be inside the journal.

Monday, April 21, 2008

tzara'marxmy man

epound liked to salute MuscleLini yes siree he did he did he didnt like jews
he was an idiot cause he was a bigot spigot imagine not liking jews whatanijdiot. with his pincer clawconfucianism futurism & his vorticist muscle binding idealogues. In paris he never gotalong with none. he even took Joyce _ who is God, to t ask for Finnegans Wake. well too bad for Mister EPound and his canto bantos. his mandarin ding dang. Tzara on the other hand spoke in a discourse all could understand when speaking to a worker's rally in 1929 as plain as an y French so. it was for epater le bougie bores he did his dadatimtimtomdadababbles.

uNlike Pound Tzara was a COmmunist.

He read his Marx without being a Bigot.
he was a Poem.

of the Future .

the other guy,the americano poundy good as he wasas poetsnowit, was one of the past. fast . last

.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

taxi tzara


of course hes no t nice gendering his shenouns around enouns. e\bookS! quellelaughter! I came to his stonE as a turned son of dada from Moinesti to Bucharest Paris ofthe East finding him in the place of multiformed dead alive as the rainbow outside of
my room in the quarter I bunked

0308

the ss

the ss
tried
to

kill

Tzara

tried
to Kill Him

the

Gestapo

tried

tried

hunting him

hunting

him
down

they were

hunting him



down

ss

over many bks. he crept yclept his desire . not a truck drive a lover

fer some

for some reason ezra pound didnt like jews. he was antisemite. big influence apparently on americano foettry. so says. booki he didnt like UnclTzara as he was Dadesque jew. like eric Satie. breton founder of surrealism so called a school of fish like cubist was antisemite as well. he took Uncle Tzara to attack as well. Such poor boors. attacking Uncle Daday herself. the great grape Lover.
Uncle Approximatif.

pooun d rant and rave against jews day and night in his facist long poem cantos.
so boring his ramble of economics baloneley malarkey

attackin ' this n that...

nothing pretty about Nazis
is there
Mister Pound

praising his Fat Cat MuscleLini
MussoLini

Mister beat up artists queers and others
Other Fascist fats
attackin goo d and holy

attacking jews for some reason


poor Uncle Tzara wasa Jew

he was in Resistance in WW2 fought bad Nazis while others
debarked to New York
in fat cat
Luxury




God good g-d Uncle Tzara Our Father who are in Communist Heave ~N.


tt

ttwas the greatest


yea~

thet

tht was pr1~

mama tzara





haha
haTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.haTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.haTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.
i saw him whe n I was iin Bucharest and Paris.
he was vehaTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.haTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.



haTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.haTzara is our mother
Our mama
one day you will see.
dont be a hero.
read poems.ry nice








I n Moinesti at writer's conference widow was lover. she bedded her bedizend flower. yes. she was hardly drive to her forested schizolanguagua Gomer to her cowcowclasp. She was a bellow. Bell clapper. She dont be a heroine. In her body. keep to sake. Over Moinesti an d Bucharest. She 's behind it all. Ride. Riding Riding...





.



Thursday, April 17, 2008

Stylus Upon Space

His all-to-be blue eyes yes themselves into the heat lore to be bothered by. My brother speaks the very heart still forethought. In this room I substitute cloth covers for my child. The listless motorcade elapses into an imagination. Public space is laid across the public peace. Invent a cause of bravery to repeal. This out of sorts impairment drives due haste. Entirety immobilizes hut light. Look across the printed text and overcome impending wilderness. The gray during the undetermined hours of inevitable unknown. A proper noun to tabulate despair. Vaulted into heavy placement to the left of what has been. Found faultlines at the provenance momentum casts.

Sure hand, one line deserving of another, time at a crawl, intention

P.a.p.y.r.i. + R.e.c.t.a.n.g.l.e.s.


Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Monday, April 14, 2008


, originally uploaded by empty chair.

when I down your thray

every to-gabled echelon's dis-piqued alors
becortal biolimb to flit gem clime
brief tones run down heppery
joint scares malingered chicory
dumpling stars and guardrails
pecky dumb sit junk lore
"as you were" my daffo
"as I am" you plink
and "as we are" come squipping
to the eek in chambers right of way

Rorschach Test, Hypochondria


~~~~

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Swim Ming Duct Aisle Weeps

Person—
ism void ’f
Absolute
Linear OPS
Bino—
cular

Line Break—
ers’ solid Bo Peeps
Pops’re Wet ab—
Solomon
Cracker cement
“Eek, eek!”
Cranks’re
A sine wave
To a walk “r”
A simil—
ar ruler
Dept. in Seine
Onyx totem Fig. 8
Swim—
ming
Duct—
aisle
Tiles S—
weep
Beyond rang-
er—daggeur—
etype—er—
st while
For the voice
Or cat—
e gory I save
Dist-
ant love—
r
Storm!
In big
Und drang
Mein
Selves—
’re I dentical
Tw(h)o
The argument is
A Kline
Dialekitick:
Flicker * asterisk
In tonality
A wander
Ego in spin
Vs Jack Spice-
r: “No mor Dublans”
Re:
Miles Davis:
Champs El-
ease-
eh

Saturday, April 12, 2008

scansion's repartee (you may)

decedency's guesswork
guest worthy
premises go fewing
dapplive intersect
and now vault over

premispective gorgeousnotes
because she b/lus/hes
a blue note graphic
middle parter
show them neighborly

you lout c'mere rouge
tinct
because now road is clobberly
and dorsal beer
fin dangle low point

ports the home front
here and thither sound
larks so spooned ignorance
to lay delayed upon
the scarch prompt livernois

be parsed when holden caul
is proud to be a scapule
for the margined damas
who foreclaustro on their
baybearers with the knife
and petty kind(ling)
to stay north of

Friday, April 11, 2008

vispo using poem fragment pasted on the inside front cover of my copy of THE NEW POETRY, new and enlarged edition of 1924, edited by Harriet Monroe

Soccer-Bocce Beyond Incidental Tianamen Sq.

Get yr head into the game, maestro
& out of yr Iowa cock ass ping pong—Veto Demo zoom-doom!
& out of yr string section’s anti-symphonic nymph of an asshole

The oven is Scheherazade’s only means of labor conveyance

Back—k—home on the range—l—m—nOZ Pea-wee kiwi pi
Shld cook 30 mins at 350° till Welsh rarebit druid muffin dweebs bunt pan

Bake till cinnamon-y Condoleezza Rice cakes fake folderol
Or creamy cheesy

The water’s big-goal-siege magum opus near Killian Pass screams
Black b_x missing “o” sings: “One is the loneliest # Yule ever due”
While tap tap tap te tap tap scurries to imagine itself
Music playing rock under violins of tundra

All over Rotterdam mice & Big Macs®’re plowed into graves
The plague isn’t evident
But I have sneezed ten times in five minutes

I want three to the 444th power down to block, alex
I don’t understand how you play yr game with a gun to yr head

4 heads on one stone mountain groove are tokens, chum
Their politics is fantasy—simple glass slippers charmed by a tale

Kinky black dweller bocce specialist first class presidentially
Has lost control of the remote

EBAY Klieg Lights Up Please!
I am the highest bidder has tooth decay written all over it

In Soccer-Bocce pedestrians always have the right of way
Have we learned nothing from Tiananmen Sq?

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Not About Mathematics

In testament syn. (hybrid out LOOK OUT!
On desk pad
System break down 29
Premeditated numbers at a glance
Tech
40 archetypal 30 madness of screams

Camellia safari blending π
w/OZ miracles in
Mite ½ plus or minus
oZ miracles in & out 30.03
A mirror
& next of

Say something un—
Expected to laugh

A closet seeks its own dimensions

Ice cream has a halo
Chercher midi & a thousand & one nites
The uptown ferry flows in quantum ly
Vanilla been flavor factors in oppossums’ past & strawberryman
Flavor spiels a pomade of gore
Spiels 60% eleven hundred geese
Not counting the dead ones at The Spoon Diner

I-75 is
Not about mathematics

Geo
Means
No # of
Dollar
Signs

Or nodes of specific measure

One requires a zero to formulate a dream, ice hockey pucks blacker
Than frostbitten extremities, frozen presences
A must for any

Lichen to dust
It comes itching under my right sleeve
& then again repeats at intervals

Specifics
Are everything
Pulse to pulse
P—erize a crac ker
Queer I
Forward mak anic o—el wander thrown from a lorry
Singing
No ear
Is good ear

The other
Place holds
At the center
& just left
A third level
Of nuance beyond
72 glib98

Vinnie “The Volt” Voltaire sputters 6 Devil’s Millhopper @ decibels un Coeur De Guerre

The untold
Story remarkable fruit stand talking
Aces
&
8th St.
Summarizes equations
My tongs
Alone cook abalone good
As gold
39¢ post harvest
Per envelope

Per 9 brickle stack

Photo
Minuet

Friday, April 4, 2008

directions


















paradise of north
4th creation
does it matter
how you died?
passed beginning
2nd creation
most flags waved
ardor harbor?
translucent birth
1st destruction
diorama of life
paradise of south?





~

roberto

spaeings roberto poem#2) : strategist
and his virtual toxicodermitis. necromancer markup epimeral
for future fissures

preconstruct pentapolitan monogamy (acheropite (acheropite (leucocratic phenakism. pfui

unrehearsing, poem#1) : sneckdrawing acetylacetone multiplicator
(acheropite phenakism diminishes : demichamfron
(acheropite minutiae behind toolbuilding bernoulli toolbuilding

pique pique pique pique /the anakinetometer drips: pique pic pic pic

my ponytail picks me bad

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

power gap

bailiwick (acheropite poem#3)


macabre cista, pinyon epimeral.
mistend, pique ponytail spongioblast.
undisproved bernoulli conglomerate leucocratic.

unrehearsing, spaeings

leukocytosis (acheropite poem#2)


toolbuilding grutching coonties toxicodermitis.
necromancer multiplicator, acetylacetone
demichamfron, archaising decoloration preconstruct
pentapolitan strategist. casket putzed
synagogical autocall windwayward
battology phenakism precisive



servomotor (acheropite poem#1)


markup minutiae, lithomancy reversi.
parazonium, monogamy sneckdrawing dehumidification.
hoariest biodegradability objet anakinetomer.

throdden, mycetomata



Tuesday, April 1, 2008

practicarious

bracken in the Blake (you clang)
contraindicative critique
and rose to prose you pose
your way through dominoes

complain and I'll be riddaya
now and then and for the future
all of us can bend or not bend
and the ammo in the garden

will give rise (may it give rise)
to crabgrass hogwash pattycake
and sludge you give me variosities
your scorch far from my porch

means porridge hipstitches
away from deluge why don't you
endemic to the few whole gardens
romp beside astride the muse

and bowl a strike or some
such big circuit-breaking avenue
to wall oneself off from and brood
and say selfhood is just so full of snoot