‘she said in strand’ (Determiners)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 820

sym

for Deantoni Parks

The forest is nothing but a single strand of spider’s silk suspended in wet air.

the woman on the silk bus spiders
forest asked if i was suspended jewish of
is i said what she said in strand
nothing are you jewish i said single
but my father was wet jewish but
a she said good i said air nothing
single nothing she wet said is
strand there are a lot in of good forest
of jewish people the suspended
spiders i read the silk bible every day
silk i said nothing she spiders said forest
suspended were goofing to win you know is
in im christian she strand said nothing
wet jews and christians single but
air are a lot alike weave a
wet got to protect one but another single
in she said weve got nothing to win strand
suspended this war is she said of
silk and got off the forest bus spiders

War Poem (American Horror Story)

JPS

Alberto Giacometti “Jean-Paul Sartre Leaning on His Elbow” ca. 1949, graphite on paper

 

a woman on the bus
asked if i was jewish
i said what she said
are you jewish i said
my father was jewish
she said good i said
nothing she said
there are a lot of good
jewish people
i read the bible every day
i said nothing she said
we’re going to win you know
i’m christian she said
jews and christians
are a lot alike we’ve
got to protect one another
she said we’ve got to win
this war she said
and got off the bus

Poem I Haven’t Read But Wrote

Wikipedia Poem, No. 819

ATDI1.jpg

can write 
email states i await from it 
  from it you but 
     i 
        can review the 
little it from it 
      your daily lives 
calista gibson 
       executive 
group 
     chief 
     executive group chief 
executive 
        a very 
         good 
but i can write you more detail st 
not know it you more wish up 
      longmire wish 
         to share 
been 
the transact 
me today here's why it free i have 
grough my brother wants me 
  that 
          corport 
at worked for 
      the transacting you 
more will 
        because 
i await from it give reply 
   to 
  visit you and it give million 
and also assigned name i 
     await from it you but i can write 
email states 
i 
am mr share will becomes a metaphor 
     for 
domain

Eighteen Wheeler at Speed (Broken Time)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 818

Maker:0x4c,Date:2017-9-26,Ver:4,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar01,E-Y

is oblomov soaring only when giacometti is on?
what about oblomov oh you don’t know?

enough with the joists monetizing pastures
run out loud

no maggot-lonely world no
doesn’t know enough about capital

sarah morris now and time
too mustn’t be so ashberian

insomniaholic holy whirling amongst eyeful photosynthetics
evans was history from beat one

which has a history
at which point linear decomposition

this political meaning
points to they are not american

so that’s why
if you can write unentertaining books about capital now

and people are not american that’s why if you can
only wear today sit up and bray at propeller sky
ignore the scoreboard time mustn’t be so ashberian

insomniaholic holy when giacometti is on and on about chimamanda ngozi adichie
the opposite of spinach is armor and
which are gathered in a sacred pile by horses trust me i’ve researched this stuff

capital and quarterbacks who were very rich
white books about football and baseball and time too
mustn’t be so ashberian insomniaholic holy whirling amongst eyeful photosynthetics

evans was common about his pointy stuff
capital now and again peopled into his arm
they are not so american that’s why

if you can write books about chimamanda ngozi adichie and sarah morris and time
too mustn’t be so ashberian insomniaholic holy whirling amongst eyeful photosynthetics
evans was a political climate come on you mustn’t be so ashberian

insomniaholic holy whirling amongst eyeful photosynthetics
evans was common with his stuff slurping the opposite of spinach
so deeply layered and which point to pure compostable pastures
run out loud no maggot-lonely joists and monetized highways

psychological meanings
i think the world doesn’t consider the implication
only whirling amongst eyeful photosynthetics
evans was a common thing in the rain the robin is far from beautiful

yet it lives so well behind me
on fire an 18 wheeler at speed
i am a dumb young man
but i am

Debase My Autocracy: Pterois Persona Poem

Wikipedia Poem, No. 817

w817-sm

“x people will y you things nd you mustn’t z / you mustn’t ever z”

and

over speech non-reference for text
over speech non-reference for contrôle describe?
how can of the only see your le costs one de salad bowl
and a new poetics
or if-ness
and a non-reference of these might on these might be more i must as a
writer? —
these might be =’d?
what’s missing-ness
and a non-reference for contrôle describe?
how can i have both
spelled sold by weight be =’d?
what’s elegant but

a preference for contrôle describe?
how can i have
both
spelled something greeks into a salad bowl
and something octopus

Nous avons — Nous avons — Nous avons — Léve tes mains! —

sure it isn’t “?”?
how can of the both
spelled something wrong
and a new poetics
or if-ness
and a new poetics
or if-ness
and something wrong and a non-reference for
contrôle describe?
how can i have both
spelled swept into the only translations — Léve tes mains! —

sure it be =’d?
what’s
missing-ness
and a non ego persona-based psychology a preference for text over speech non-reference for controllo deliverance
a preference
for text over speech non-reference for contrôle describe?
how can i
have
both
spelled swept into a salad bowl
and a non ego per il contrôle describe?
how can i have both
spelled something if
it
possible logique in English

— À quoi bon s’agiter of the una logique in my head sized
hole costs one describe it to me?
how can i have this pantomime of comedy
so sharply unintended something octopus

Nous avons — Nous avons — Nous avons — Nous avons translations translation.
Ogni guerre faux espagnol

where’s a human
of these might be =’d?
what’s missing-ness? is strictly metrically
metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically
metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically
metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metrically metric

spacer1

‘We have passed through the night without deliverance’

Columbus692-sm

these might be bad translations
but at this moment they are
the only translations available in english

Nous avons traversé la nuit sans délivrance
translated as
We have passed through the night without deliverance

sure it’s accurate but
the translator must also be
a most loving octopus

Welcome to Lotus Land (after Tony Hoagland)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 816

Maker:0x4c,Date:2017-9-26,Ver:4,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar01,E-Y

Because therapy heals all worlds: 
Welcome to Lotus Land.

The workers
        the proletariat
        the sea-mines
        the TSA Agents of the Mind
                shoot back to zip me away from gnosis.
Their neon swims across my whimsy metrics 
        in the small, air conditioned room.
Whales tornado a hundred thousand phrenology busts.
Warm, oozing cherry wood wands my birdcage.
Me in the center as a campfire. Beeping.

That's why I abandoned the mast for swine.
There's too much good television now. 
A speedboat mustn't consider sails. 

Odysseus' men slither across their barnacled flesh.  
A thousand Athenas for the taking. 
I chase the abandoned speedboat
        then give up the ghost.
Sacrifice can make me whole again,
        says the whales.

The workers — using only her blowholes — tie me 
        to the television above her 
        polystyrene-smeared lipstick. 
The workers tie on her marvelous golden sandals. 

This cool shade sweeps me.
You respond now.

Bayway Refinery

Wikipedia Poem, No. 815

w815-sm-c

The blood red light slick on my sky binds skin to skull. I’m not the man you think I am who connects to violence, belching, where sky blinds to understand what I condemn in me. What I connect to skin, to violence, I loved first on the internet. I can’t have known New Jersey before I owned this wretched skull. I’m not the one who connects to violets. Where? There: Where mandible connects to skull. I’m not one for drama. I have no loudness, no spark. I have no loudness for drama. I have no profit for dreams. I am no lout, no prophet. I have sugar sparks for teeth. I split the atom.

A Raspy, Screeching Hiss.

Wikipedia Poem, No. 814

w814

A piece the size of me. We float downstream’s surge. Suddenly to steep, rocky shore and up under the boat down the stream’s surface began. The hotel has provided a nice razor set. I see how far down a submarine. The pain: the trip was small, not powerful, contained in more capsizing. The weather side of me. We float felt unsure recollection, sand yawed, before capsizing. The stream at the purpose of me. Inexplicably the window, the stream’s surge. Suddenly my home barbwire. My hairline. It pitches, reaching out for plant stalk to tolerate the stream. The water. Dazed. Suddenly normalized.