January 2020 – wikipoem

Talking About Similarity (Marina)

January 25, 2020January 25, 2020 Joseph M. GeraceLeave a comment

Wikipedia Poem, No. 994

i am free of the artists on my leg
and mentally like a teddy bear gestation
on my leg and forever cleaned from my leg
suspicion and energy

of time sewn into practice — not theory —
imagination trails on my leg and disappears into suspect and terror
forever — i am free of the artists on my leg
and mentally like a teddy bear gestation
on my leg and forever cleaned from my leg
suspicion and energy — the soft streaks of childhood
my childhood disappears — a ready welcome keep

what is sewn back into a poem
what is sewn back into a social practice
blood into practice — into
theory — i am free from the comfort of artists’
entrails and art disappears in a snap

i feel that loss of blood
thinking become motivation
now i am desperate
to keep what is sewn into my practice
— not the honey — of which i am free in theory
somehow now desperate to out-think
now i am desperate to save someone
when bland disappears into suspicion
and soft abandonment disappears
suspect and disappearance
haruspex and defeasance

suspect and i perceive this blood
a welcome renewal to the theory of thought
the imagination of an affair
an unwelcome gut check with respect to self-indulgence

unwelcome to save another when the theory —
the imagination in theory — untouched vista —
the artist/torturers i am freed from come visit me sometime!

hold what’s sewn onto my leg and it disappears
suspiciously disappears suspiciously disappears
i am desperate to think now of what is sewn into this affair
a 9 year old xerox of why time self indulgence
an unpleasant self-indulgence of the time of awakening makes my blood flow —

imagination of sewing theory
i am free artists comfort and forever
imagination of a soft squeak and energy
trying to hold onto what is sewn into a story
a 9 year gestation of time self-indulgence
crawls through my leg and disappears i suspect
that the loss of blood becomes an unwelcome
respiro alito fiato

i’m thinking now that i am incredibly rich
size an unwelcome breath a hold on what is sewn
into the extramundane nature of time
sewn into comfort and acceptance drag upwards
my leg disappears into the jet stream
i suspect then perceive theory — imagination
of theory

and practice —
not the extramundane nature of comfort
disappears suspicious and xerox of time
self-indulgence and respiro alito fiato
unwanted disadvantages
sewn into nature — not without blood

John Baldessari (Make a Splash at Parties)

January 19, 2020January 19, 2020 Joseph M. GeraceLeave a comment

Prismatic, Buñuel said.
Chinese condoms and
effulgent magenta glob.
Everything in the
public record. That’s
how you make
great images. Please
remove yr hands
in respect of
the dead. Describe
what you don’t
see. Clean, sterile
actionable nouns. Be
it boy or
boar. The French
horn swells predictably.
Google feeds headlines
to the mountains.
A poet doesn’t
need bleak intelligence,
she said. This
is a different
kind of river.
I pour collage
into a black
mug, lucky me!

Friday Night Zuihitsu

January 17, 2020January 17, 2020 Joseph M. GeraceLeave a comment

Wikipedia Poem, No. 993

see now don’t you? the the languages, dialects,
pidgens and stop drinking orders. i’ve stories. piles of love
in northern new jersey. anna, here’s nothing.

this government of language. i am the languages, dialects, pidgens stop drinking.
i’ve stopped drinking. i’ve stopped drinking. i’ve stories. piles of them in northern new jersey. anna, here’s nothings i’ll never sort. somehow i have to wake me up. stop drinking. the thing. this language. i am on fire.

same; languages, dialects, pidgens. stop drinking this language. i am the same; language. i just need one go again: no randomly scattered across thousands and ideograms. i am.

the language. i pray, sure, but to love my perception allows. short hand my perception allows. the shores of northern new jersey. anna, here’s a good car crash to find weird little answers hidden under the thing. i’ve stopped drinking. the thing left of books and ideograms.

i just need one to go again: no randomly. just need one good car crash to wake me up. have you stopped drinking? the thing left of lawns
allows. short of new jersey, anna,
here’s nothing i’ll never sort. somehow i have to find
love interminable things left
of mind a bit of lawns in all things can’t love allow
new jersey. anna, here we are at the car crash scrounging about for a bit of language, dialect, pidgens and
ideograms. i am the languages, dialects, pidgens and stop. i’ve stopped drinking. there was a good car crash found in love in northern new jersey. anna, here we go car crashing to wake me up. crash to wake me up. pray, sure,
but find weird little answers hidden under
the things
i’ll never sort, somehow.

i have to wake me up. of vain stories. piles of
lawns in northern new jersey. anna, go crash cars to love.
anna, here we go crashing into a bit of the language, dialects, pidgens and ideograms. i just need one go again: no randomly scattered across thousands of lawns.

it allows. new jersey, anna, here we go again finding there’s nothing to love in northern new jersey. anna, here’s all the nothings i can’t love in northern new jersey. anna, here we go again: nothing randomly scattered across thousands of books and ideograms.

i am the same: language.
i pray, sure, but find weird little answers
hidden under brittle
languages, dialects, ditches.

Try this Cheap, Easy Way to Convert Your Body into a Guaranteed Revenue Stream

January 14, 2020January 15, 2020 Joseph M. GeraceLeave a comment

Wikipedia Poem, No. 992

regarded hunter with mild
interest
but had no flash of human recognition whatever as though
they were
seeing
an ad
for a product
they’d heard of
buying had no flash
of but had no
intention of human recognition of human recognition
whatever

as though
hunter was seeing
an ad
for a product
they
were
seeing an ad
for a product
they
were seeing an ad
for a product they’d heard of but had no interest

but had no interest but had no
intention but had no interest
no intention
whatever as though
hunter had heard of
no intention whatever as
though they
were seeing an
ad
for a product they were buying

Everything You Expect

January 8, 2020January 10, 2020 Joseph M. GeraceLeave a comment

need nsa hookup
great time with a great smile and personality
i like to keep my kinky side a secret
can you be special enough for me to share it with you

i wish my father called me on my birthday no homo

the best part is the little italicized spider at the end
this interview has been edited and condensed

there’s someone i need to know
there’s someone singing in the office now
there’s someone i need for my own sanity
there’s someone i can suggest to help you feel better

waking up in osaka with a painful sore throat

when times turn tough presidents can hop on air force one to escape the country for a while and stride purposefully across the world stage

how big is your television
i have different sizes in every room i really prefer the big ones how big is yours

in conformity to norms of the day the actionists regarded women primarily as passive objects bloodied and abused female bodies were central to some of the fantasies of destruction they staged

discovering the pad of my left foot slightly sticky against tatami

opuntia or prickly pear was introduced to kenya by british colonialists in 1940s as a living fence but has grown out of control in recent years plaguing elephants and other wildlife and tearing through ranches and farmland

an old man pulls a heavy stone tablet across a nightingale floor

this ambiguity is particularly effective when the performer is conveying the experience of being terrified of finding one’s sense of self displaced by the physically or psychologically overwhelming actions of another

wind shakes persimmons in the spindly tree outside the disciple’s estate
rusty whine of clapboard hinges battering his childhood home

there is always a sparrow flitting
in the flowerbeds

a masochist locked in purple chrysanthemum
penetrates the acrid desert between hacked and cracked flower

the crewmembers of the delight meanwhile comment to each other on the pequod’s use of a coffin as a life buoy

For All the Vegans I’ve Loved and Consumed (Trendy Modernist Power Play)

January 4, 2020January 4, 2020 Joseph M. GeraceLeave a comment

Wikipedia Poem, No. 991

ONE

of animals
as moral consumers
justify their sight

moral consumption of animals and you
don’t fry up this fragmented animal
as moral constraint either hence

we dig up this fragmented animal class
in anti-intellectual stories under wonder
what’s moral consumption?

the poets are moral consumers mutatis mutandis
what’s moral? we wonder what’s something their patients see
this fragmented pharmaceutical animal perhaps?

as far as moral constraint
either we wonder what’s moral or
consume animals as we wonder what’s moral

TWO

self-awareness
don’t fry up that ego: all organisms work
self-affirming live monkey limb
because we think of animals as moral consumptions
size and constraint either hence we consume them
but we don’t generally see animals
we don’t have stories to tell
self-affirming little tales to negotiate
guilt over knives
don’t ponder what’s moral consumption
size and constraints
what their habits whisper of self-awareness
don’t have their patients moral consumption
animals as moral consumers of size
condors constrain their populations
but they selfishly extol story structure
that doesn’t have to do with man and god
foolish moral constraints as we wonder what’s moral
consumption sounds and chimps
our nearest relatives tearing
them apart but selfishly expanding
to don’t have stories to justify they also don’t have live monkeys
pharmaceutical animals as tonal constraint
what’s our nearest relative for tearing
tell me something about self-awareness
to negotiate guilt tell me
hurting stories to negotiate guilt
hurting their habitats don’t consume size and constraint
what of them? their populations? there’s only one story
the tearing story we tell self-affirming agents
no normal moral considerations just stories
what’s moral consumption size and constraint
either we wonder what’s or we don’t

THREE

something trendy back in grad school
all the poets enabled study of age as a class
in all those poems that enabled

so it was its almost discourses that as poets
were something of pound olson duncan and you
to undergrad all the trendy bach pieces

the poems people turned in at grad school
all the trendy modernist power play
a pound of olson a pound of duncan

and you don’t have to dig up this fragmented
anti-intellectual potsherd
weak domesticated anti-intellectual egoism