New Year’s Day

Wikipedia Poem, No. 883

        Like a final decision?
Then it—

    I know
the sound
of yr idling
   of cheap life:
too late,

   Sale for free

without orientation

sale for free

without orientation

 for free


       Statistically speaking, engine rich
   with gasoline
the stations
    desirable ones at least
         between dick and
burn it down.

I know the
sound of yr idling
about wild
lines appear
       or disappear
         then disappear
        and disappear
    or disappear.


Wikipedia Poem, No. 882

it’s about time for the art market to be subject to regulation à la the sec

for art’s part
of the world
because otherwise we would
because otherwise
thee becauses the becausing world

rauschenberg’s dilemma: what to do with this angora goat

art’s about time
its an angora goat
she retains that
to rebuff historical value
naf naf naf

she retains these things as a means of escape a way out of her images of the world because otherwise we would stay there forever fixed like the fly waiting for its annihilation

mechanisms of proven
porcelain sculpture fait d’hiver
fixed like this part of historical value
martyrs angora goat
she retains the virgin

i ate some of that
the art’s part
a me now

porcelain sculpture
fait d’hiver which is porcelain
sculpture for french fashion brand major
museums the fly waits
for contemporary nothing

a place with a scope lying somewhere between grassroots alternative spaces for contemporary art and major museums that show only artists of proven historical value

for the artists of proven historical value
martyrs annihilation a bank holiday
of his bank out time for its annihilation
i ate some escape
a way of these porcelain scriptures fait d’hiver

martyrs and warriors of last summer’s coup

which is porcelain
fait d’hiver which is sculpture for thieves
we world among because otherwise we fashion
major museums art
about time for its annihilation

no artwork nothing-day of the virgin a bank holiday took the plates

out of the virgin a bank
out of time for the fly
waiting for someone to love last summer
a coup no artwork nothing some
the virgin of the virgin à la the thing’s mechanism

framing mechanisms of things

of the virgin à la the fly
waiting for 1980
advertisements of the virgin world
because otherwise we fix
like a thing means to means

the most expensive living female

dilemma: what to make of gathered porcelain
alternative spaces forever against porcelain
fixed things the most expensive living female
jeff koons eats the angora goat
she retains the virgin à la one final bank holiday
virginity and banality frame the day

jeff koons has been found guilty of plagiarising a 1980s advertising campaign for french fashion brand naf naf to make his porcelain sculpture fait d’hiver which is part of his banality series


Annie Baker

I’ve explained this before
cut this line & the one before
cut — a metaphor & a beautiful sweater

Anyway, george bush the first is drowning
has drowned — Let’s get on with
the poem: I trip over the sky

I am, she says, hideous
language, she says drinks
double IPAs like chainmail

Even his spanish birds, who have
paid dearly, roast in mount etna
sad face — i don’t want to burn

I don’t want to talk about my dad
he nods at every colloquialism
squatting in the alley, even

His students have paid dearly
do you have a story to tell
storyteller? stonecutter?

Worth it?
to manipulate
our constitution?

Good soldier of poetry
future filmmakers
figure its technical precision

We, as an audience, start to race ahead
the poem catches up with you
& leads you into uncharted

Territories — universal, simple
rules, 1916, an operation i have
inserted myself too much into

Biology. they will never make
a great poem — the die reads
four — just reads. 1,000-year-

Old poetry. the creation of the world
neither earth was yet there
who made midgar? the matchless

Earth, the green soft, a golden
capped rut of his skull, laconic,
beyond all this — a continuous

Story. the peregrine
kathy’s casino his eyelids his
dancing monkey his heavy lidded

Return to the colony
there’s an old joke
define the clan

I tip over the
vending machine
nothing comes out

But the woman
pushed it over & by god
the thing was done — a spark!

It’s a light. how patient
we are all here. yr voice
is so small and sweet.