i meant to say something nice
about you
say social justice warrior like it's a
bad thing
nice about you one cannot stop no
matter the temperature
i meant to say something nice
about you
to you skin is
the
perfect procedure
i meant to say
something nice
the opposite of poet laureate
i meant to say something nice
about you
let's not stop now
halfway though the
gods know
a bad thing
an efficient thing
about
you
i was wrong
about your cool spots
i meant to say something nice
about you
you
did not stop
the procedure i meant to engage with
your totalitarian layer i
meant
to say salt isn't enough
i meant to say salt
ONE
of thf
thene be
doesagicaow, ihow w now, pen find turn
one
magicwordsmain, scale
misout arave g
luc
TWO
ind
make otyour r?
i e to made e
mises tuufficne touto-cecomee
gra doesrds rr?
i
f theper
…encie
THREE
uffic
a gre becale
f
findoes
o one to
hoaper
estifturn
s oneking
the
wed
tefrom
off
emainf walying
Marcus Wicker’s Silencer is very good. I’ve spent a lot of time with its poems, yet it’s not enough. Wicker is sharp in this interview with Kathleen Rooney at the Poetry Foundation. You will come out more alive after reading both/either. Wicker:
“Poetry won’t save your life, at least not without (self) action. But a well-wrought language object can deliver a lightning bolt of feeling married to intelligence that’s capable of stirring readers into any number of outward actions and interior reactions. That’s power and magic enough for me.”
“I take my hip-hop influences as seriously as my literary heroes, and I’d like others to do so as well.”
Over at the New Statesman, Jason Murugesu argues that Kanye West is “our first metaphysical rapper”. One might feel a gentle pop as their optic nerves retreat from their aggressively rolling eyes when, five graphs in, Murugesu writes: “According to Encyclopedia Britannica, Donne’s metaphysical poetry is “characterised by conceit or ‘wit'”. But keep going, the lay argument builds a compelling case, not for his intended point, but, for looking at contemporary artists with disengaged distance. Murugesu:
Not everything is so highbrow though. West and Donne enjoy a similar taste for puns made in poor taste. Donne’s The Good Morrow describes his thoughts as he awakes next to his lover. In it, Donne makes his now infamous sexual pun where he references his lover’s “country pleasures”.
The opening of West’s “Mercy” features the rapper Big Sean trying to make a similar pun on the word “ass” (throughout the song, multiple rappers featured on the song compare women to the super-car, the Lamborghini Mercy).
Another reading suggestion — this one a deeper investment — is “Tradition and Innovation in Hellenistic Poetry” first published in Italian in 2002, and translated by Cambridge University Press in 2004. Marco Fantuzzi and Richard Hunter take a monographic look at the poetry of the third and second centuries BC, and engage in close readings of “some of the most famous Greek poetry of the Hellenistic period”. It’s a scholarly text, so the reading isn’t as immediately accessible as either the interview or the internet errata above, but the first 43 pages are available to read on Google Books; try it out. I’m a zealous believer in the fact that this kind of information shouldn’t only be read between the dire walls of a university classroom. This stuff can be great fun. One representative sentence:
The intensive philological scholarship of the third century BC, which sought to describe and classify literary forms of the past, may have facilitated the contamination of traditional genres.
And finally, some suggested reading from the last few weeks on wikipoem.org:
office hours
the filter power
così così
through the wet black ink bureau
file my will somehow
on our niggling wetness makes it appear darker somehow crammed
jake brake mass transportation
i hear their teeth am nude
amongst blood who won't pay attention
bucolic clangors suspend themselves
behind the slow rise and in their teeth
hear crickets terror to rise and
the sound of commerce jake brake
mass bottlebells* ringing some
behind terror some afore
some despise this consensual abattoir
at september's end
*to lie closer to rise and earth burial
i am a nude acrobat the atom bomb itself
immolate a given rod of hand which aggravates
prescribes the heel to their teeth this late in 2017
ununshod acrobat part your dead body
hand which aggravates the dog steaming to rise
and prescribes a mouthful of lies closer to our lips
sweet then like earthburial i am dying chic deplaned
and of some uses where ever i go to claim my flesh
there are entrances of spirit but are they sweet like leaves
men stumbling against the wind to be subtle
copper-nickel bonded bones here nor is my posture impeccable
like broadway bends in the truth i'm only permitted
one stumbling drink into the dog's steaming mouthful of fatherhood
subtle copper cup i am dying to drink to be subtle
to heat this pushing against heat into his authority as philosopher
invincibly man's lips slight and strawberry sweet
bones here? men stumbling dark of drink locust
or nevermind your fathers' bodies spread wide amongst family who
is an acrobat out of clowning and survival our instincts trade
if we remember then elucidate didactic and the atom bomb
(itself impeccable a chic cliche people still prescribe imitation imepeccable)
i close my parenthesis to you like a similie of our dead's fathers' bodies
specious connected undesired layer elucid give birth to me
nor is late in yr fires specific people hear crickets pulse
who is the slip frogs across your lipstick-on-tossed-off-marlboro
not them behind you not the truth i'm only permitted in for a moment
not some broadway imitation the room wringing its hands fucking
a mouthful of thought a corsaid of discovery
nor is it slow to our lips offering the atom bomb
itself-immolate in the rod of fire
“When I was a younger man / I could feel the entire world / But now that I’m older…” Busdriver
After Jane Taylor and Hoa Nguyen
verbal but not a lover who attunes illusion
nor is the lover a poem learning to walk on sand somatic stand-in
size and broadway that aggravates its homonym thinking about
him whether this lover meant moat or mote
slight quant of allusion is the specious condition of dollar
which aggravates you walking into the spinning fire
euclid measures across the lull of a dog and me steaming
a mouthful of rod starvations of posture impeccable
shorts tossed off like shirts like a healer-reader of wallace mic
eagle james american dream sketch paper corpse tree appears in the wild
a slight but specific plume men are taught that one wakes to his bodies
lined like a baking sheet matthew supermodel baraka my dollar
which aggravates that specious condition that attuned the dog outward
my dog ill and steaming a mouthful of patina-thought of whistle men
taught at the front which aggravates the looming cross the tiki torch
now a dog steaming how to transform our shared conditional maw
men / stumble around / a bag of steaming chicken bones
but not-doing
en stumbles
chicken bones here
men stumble chicken bones here
men stumble
chicken
bones here
men stumble around a bag of steaming chicken bones here
men stumble
flip flops and
broadway in chicken bones cheap
men stumble chicken
bones
here
men cheap cheap
stumble chicken bones
here
men stumble
around clucking cheap
bag of steaming chicken
bones
here
men chicken boned out on
men stumble
around
bag of steaming chicken bones
chicken
bones here
men stumble around
a bag of steaming chicken bones here
men stumble
chicken bones here
men stumble chicken bones
here
men flip flop
broadway
in fucking flip flops
and faded-red-lipstick-on-tossed-off-marlboro
shorts
not listening but not-doing that's for sure
it
listen but not-doing
en stumble
chicken bones here cheap
men
stumble chicken
bones here
men stumble
chicken bones here
men stumble
men
stumble
around a
bag of steaming
chicken bones here
en
stumble
chicken bones en here en
men cheap men stumble around
steaming
men stumble
chicken boned here
men stumble around a bag
men
stumble flip flops and broadway
fucking chicken bones
down there
men stumble
chicken bones
here
men stumble in flip flops
around
broadway and spring street
in
fucking
chicken
bones
men
stumble bones
chickens
stumble
over men oven-pigs
men stumble
chicken
bones
here
men
stumble chicken
bones here
men stumble chicken
bones here
men stumble around a bag
of steam
around a
bag
of steam playin' chicken there
men
stumble
men
stumble
chicken'n
bones
here
men there chicken there
bones
here and hear
men do not hear
chicken bones
hear
hairy men chant
stumble in flip
chicken-
bone flop
men flip chicken bones here
men flip
bones here
men
stumble
over at above against bones
here chicken chant
yellow stumbling chicken shit
bones
men wear chicken bones
when it suits them
men stumble
chicken bones
here
men stumble
in spring street on flip flops and
broadway phantom lovers
phantoms their damn selves
“He who arrives at the door of poetry without the madness of the muses, thinking that he can be a good poet thanks solely to techne remains incomplete, and the poetry is eclipsed by that of the mad.” Plato
the keyhole
of my broad back
of
my ignorance were i
ignorant as all the philosophers
poured into a visible earthen mold
be invincibly
ignorant for being
unreached but unreachable
this
condition is
the key then to
to verdant madness
and made
one less
the
light the winged the
sacred thing of madness
i am stone
the
poem
is no more
no
i am so enamored
no
i am
so
enamored
no
i am so enamored
no
i am so enamored
no
i am so enamored
“The line between full personhood and complete self-objectification is whisper thin.”
Nancy Bauer
“Saturn looking like a confection of mint and cantaloupe.”
Kim Stanley Robinson
as flesh and constraints of the
nonsexual and as both our
chances for and common: neither mutual
and young women requires what young
women requires what young women
requires what young women in and
stressing being convey self heretofore people
who play by an unjust women
requires that writhing for happiness
them resist poignant ways than
the achievement: both our
experiences for happiness that these people
may shrink that i’m identical-and-more people
who play by its rules beauvoir author’s in
perhaps ulting serious sexual and
common: neither people may shrink
there an and men as women call a world in
perhaps ulting in these extremes to do that
young women require not only these
extremes because language not just
women require what find of full
perhaps ulting one’s way that might call after
one in the morning looking beauvoir repeated forgive
me use language not just to mean authority
of the satisfactions and desires to other an
author’s in way that might attenuate is
what might be called looking beauvoir repeated
forgive me use better intentions and sex
toys can promise flesh and flash our
worse fate that and our weasley being we
use language not just to apologize and
convey self-objectifying serious kindness
ceaselessly an anything and young
women and not just women and an
author in personhood and flesh and a
mother an even word is one of
dualism or more perhaps ulting in anything
women and and and the self-objectifications
and convey self-objectification a genuinely
of full personhood and nonsexual and
sexual young women and as
women require therefore an even worse fate
the locus often to cement of the ways
but all most people and nothing more
an adulterated foamed happiness and our
worldview or more what might at temptations
author our experience
authentical dead end risk frisk our
chances forgive us our language not only
the thing conveyed but its sense ceaselessly
an objectification is what our worldview
tempts within winking
these extremes because language not just
a woman’s sexualism or more that might
of night authentical experience one’s ways them
resist poignant ways we and an
authentical experience but also to get
women requires the self-objectification in
them resist poignant ways but also get
women’s sexual experiences for and as
both our chances for happiness
the same time our experience as flesh and
a nonsexual pitch of love place at out feet the
self-expressesion to transcend risk find us find us failing