Belshazzar’s Feast

Wikipedia Poem, No. 899


in that it’s out of their
dead
    susan-hiller and
    the brittling
new canon can
combination
with
artists sol
    lewitt
        famously
  suggested  
       in
mexico
      believ- the
unknown artist hiller was considerate at least
  in
      london
    belshazzar’s feast
 collected to keep cooper union  
margins of
       landscape
romanticism and
a precursor
     edged with
      plausibility
mysticism
and  
fieldwork
 as such
denied she
     subconscious   conceptual orders of unreason moments and
     unreason
margins
     of roughtrout the
political fieldwork before
consciousness
    hiller splits and guatemala she said
   in meaty-tubes

Artifacts of Reference, No. 43

Gratitude, Joseph M. Gerace, 2019

As an Animal You Have a Second Chance to Find a Companion

Wikipedia Poem, No. 898

tabled got dressed got dressed
got
dressed perhaps the animal my driveway no

morning its
backward taking its back
towards it and kill the

squirrel stomping muster
to safety—and she pulled haplessly back legs
had a squired leash tight to go toward

full of her species my
reaction who
knows how to begin to

hold the terminal believes that
juncture exists
injured the witness unfolding

but
i was
pulled onto the end of its backward

squirrel’s suffering
drove through lucy’s
progress perhaps i walked further

snow how
i wondered: what the squired
uncoupled from

the steppe is quite beautiful all greys why
bluing really especially when the green why
extends out into the boated shore why why why

Bōsōzoku Politics

Wikipedia Poem, No. 897

management of
the bōsōzoku? now you’re talking!
all paintings are diseased in the color of
faith the color as incorrect hannah hoch
will never be a lawyer as
in the north american congress of latin american
texture of success clouds clouds clouds clouds clamor free

the marvel cinematic universe
has replaced curators
aleatory
el socialismo es una filosofía del fracaso chávez y
suspicious politics
el añublo marxist–leninistrange brain government
the court of splatter elected
nations I miss the color of los marxists
latin honors chávez y suspicious politics
yo era un soldado interesado en la teología de l
a liberación
marches dead possums over
placid weather as incorrect as the marvel
cinematic universe replace el trasero although fight
the election was certified as being free and legitimate
by the organization of american states
generation miss the court of genetic secretions for knives
ones generation sacked of interior
free
the marvel cinematic universe contains
replaces
a touch of textbook you’re talking
marxist–leninistrange brain government the color
three roots of the tree
into state-run profesor de petróleo
presidente del petróleo

and affairs depart as discussed for the incorrect
hannah hoch correct hannah hoch need painting
and I replace curators corazón of alternation
and I miss the supreme texture war

parish priest from latin curatus
past curatorship earning officer in
reference to those put in a museum
library guardian’s heart

success
clouds clamor free
achieving impunishment
brain government to römer 95

just another masculine gang war
what if? perspending headslamor free
all paint and place
fight about the supreme party
salem magazine youtube see the constitution
for what it is: battle lines
and I miss this owly nation of who and the de facto idle bullshit
of bōsōzoku the youtube constitution of women
impunishment brain government the universo
del petróleo
chávez y suspicious politics curator of
marxist–leninistrategouge
and broad spectrum of missing color as incorrect
hannah hoch in the wreath of bōsōzoku

now you’re
talking, imp!

Molly Springfield

Raft, Joseph M. Gerace, 2019

hello,

i am mrs. tan chheng, the ceo
of hong kong diamond & jewelry
shops in cambodia. i was recently
diagnosed of cancer, after the sudden
death of my late husband who was
killed by assassin.

i want to entrust a donation to you
for a charitable project to handle
on my behalf, as i will be
undergoing surgical operation
in a week time which i pray
to survive it, so i want the philanthropist
work of my late husband to continue
and reach to people around the globe,

but because of my health condition
i will not be able to handle the project myself,
the reason i am willing to you
$25,500,000.00 usd
his to continue the good work in my late husband
name, to create shelter for widows, less
privilege, and poor people
in your communities. i have

informed my lawyer about my decision
willing the money to you for charitable purpose, please
if you are ready to handle the charity project
from your whole-hearted sincerely.
kindly contact my lawyer; mr. veasna chivorn,
through his e-mail address

Stone Sonnet

Wikipedia Poem, No. 896

Stone, Joseph M. Gerace, 2019

supposed election and minor charge
a victimless crime about lying to be seen
russian collusion and it appears to conjure up
savanna red-dirt apparently found later
this is not inconceivable apparently found later
this is not inconceivable now that mr. mueller
unearthed this minor charge about a minor crime
brusque risk of a cave-in constant suspends minor charge

these advocates are all about this minor charge
apparently found later in a cobalt mine extraneous conjuring
it appears and is later inconceivable to the electorate
punised dirty searching team seeking to vanquish metal shovel
broken-headed hammer eyes closed miner conceives a minor
punisher mud-covered mr. mueller extraneous too late


Sources:

No Crystalization Without Representation

Thanks for letting me take a look at this one time I was there was no reason to be mad at me because I'm not going to be able to make you feel like a piece of paper and the kids are doing great.

Great news for the kids to the park and ride at the beach with the boys for the day but if we can get together for a drink and see the car and then we have a lot in common.

gringo interventions & coups d’etats

Wikipedia Poem, No. 895

the picturewomen that brought the fair says the flare of mysterious sun nests in blood. the same age i waited for you in the girls we could break into goodness. like as in loved. asleep. you die. no sun in roots and whiskey and seems fair though therfucking the place up, tangled in a ghost—hieroglyphics i dream of spider blood. like love, with its finger on the bar, i dream of you at scale, just a kid, really, laughing in place. tangled in a ghost—hieroglyphics i come to understand the girls we made you soak in barnight. i come to nests of you instead. i say lookout with its clear finger. what’s new? drugs wet with clear-air always sitting in nests of mysterious spiderstands they’re sitting out fucking you with stars. nest of mysterious sun. the girls we loved. asleep. you instead say, stay, i look for you, you, you in rootblood. the fair thought-fish, painted-ghost—hieroglyphic dream of mysterious sun in rootblood. the fucking on and ever clutch a dream like love ever asleep. you in roots and nest of sun in roots and place, tangled-in, but older. the same eventualities, laughing off of my fucking stars. i come to the coast, no one’s i light say, i drown in roots and instead, instead, instead. i stood lookout with tears. i come to understand blood. loved. asleep. you instead. i theater the barstool look for you where no sun in the blue-black sea they’re impossibly large spiders. i say, i dream of a mysterious man in a good mood. through the nests of wet fingers clutch the bar rag covers neon clutch at midnight, i look for yourself. good. the blue-black thigh, terror fingers the bible like a ghost—hieroglyphic dreams of tears’ stars. nests of example; eventually the fucking stars. the ripping of an abandoned highway, i dream of oscillating black preserved in some anonymous monkey’s heart, drown in neon; came on eventually, flicked really, laugh—they’re just stars on a path. flare of mysterious roots now love asleep—you, subsumed by coast.


Source: Kennedy, Christopher. “I Called Shotgun When You Died.” NY Tyrant, Tyrant Books, 11 Jan. 2019, magazine.nytyrant.com/called-shotgun-christopher-kennedy/.

Better Luck Next Time, Skinhead! (Da)

Katsuhiro Otomo, Akira, vol. 1, 1984

American Sentence, No. 4

That’s just a door, don’t overthink it, but who is Horace, anyway?