Topless in Purple Gloves

Wikipedia Poem, No. 946

one could not cope
with his no one could
not ask for his no one

could know every human
name every name every
human poem whomever

however one copes with his
freedom chantal joffe i did
no one not once ask for ever

human nature asks for every
possible poem in the grief of
human names every human

every flagrant permutation
if names exist at all ask for
his no one could grieve

ask for his
no one could
ask for his
no one could

Topless in Purple Gloves

Wikipedia Poem, No. 945

praise the lord

if names exist at all
like the intellectual property
of men topless
in purple gloves then
i did then i did not
no one could not ask for
no one could not hunger for
intellectual property could not
top like intellectual property
the burning wick
chantal joffe did not ask for this
no one could
no one could not
all the intellectual property
of burning men

Love Yrself

Wikipedia Poem, No. 944

Thank You, 2019
protagoniser  the crying on 22 april 2003—9451 days 
that we million related to nabokov's imperfect savior trim
and psychoanalysis
between—presides over
act—if i look at the morning
assachusettsnovel milyukov
rushdie
tragedy.
one death is a
translator
of russia
and motivate appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate
appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate
appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate
appropriate appropriate
appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate
appropriate appropriate
appropriate appropriate appropriate appropriate
appropromat

Sweat Sweet as Melons the Tongues

one

hands grasping the
ornamental knobs of
the man-ropes father
mapple cast a
look this color
orange tries to
remind me of
you lay down
and be slumbering
a cabinet is
kind the and
when i’m cornered
at the final
blown it seems
from room in
clouds peeks at
ourselves in the
mirror brain inside
the test tube
is still alive

two

the thing that
death gave you
themselves christian thorns
you bet apples
bananas sour as
sweat sweet as
melons the tongues
and tigers hotly
towards dancing away
from your cars
by the frond
of the sea
i live of
rain made out
to ask me
whether we were
again to be
bedfellows i told
him yes whereat

three

content and there
let him rest
all our arguing
with him would
not avail let
him be in
and out a
window will never
create hay back
me up then
to ask to
arrive late and
be polite so
you are do
you know here
is the corner
a couple of
men jump up
7th as a
little there’s only
one option

Their Words Seemed to Them Like Nonsense

Wikipedia Poem, No. 943

Easter 2019

barian faces gorgeous faces barbarian faces
young faces barbarian faces barbarian faces
barbarian faces barbarian faces gorge-arbarian
faces young faces young faces barbarian faces

barbarian faces barbarian faces young faces young
faces barbarian faces young faces young faces
barbarian faces young faces barbarian faces young
faces real gobble nuclei broods real gobble

faces barbarian faces young faces barbarian faces
young faces barbarian faces young faces barbarian
faces young faces barbarian faces young faces
nuclei broods real faces young faces barbarian

young faces barbarian faces young faces young
faces young faces young faces barbarian faces barbarian
faces barbarian faces young faces young faces barbarian
faces barbarian faces barbarian faces barbarian faces

barbarian faces barbarian faces barbarian faces barbarian
faces barbarian faces young faces young faces young faces
young faces barbarian faces young faces barbarian faces
barbarian faces barbarian faces young faces young

faces gorgeousung faces barbarian faces barbarian
faces real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei
broods real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei
broods real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei

broods real gobble nuclei broods real gobble
nuclei broods real gobble nuclei broods real
gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei broods
real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei broods

real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei
broods real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei
broods real faces young faces barbarian faces young
faces young faces barbarian faces barbarian faces

young faces barbarian faces young faces
young faces barbarian faces young faces barbarian
faces young faces barbarian faces young
faces barbarian faces young faces

barbarian faces young faces barbarian faces
real gobble nuclei broods real gobble
nuclei broods real gobble nuclei
broods real gobble nuclei broods real gobble nuclei broods

real gobble nuclei broods
real faces young faces barbarian faces young
faces young faces real
gobble gobble nuclei broods real nuclei gobble broods

real gobble
real nuclei
broods real gobble nuclei broods real faces young faces
young faces

real gobble nuclei broods
real gobble nuclei broods
real gobble nuclei broods
real gobble nuclei broods

real gobble
nuclei broods
real gobble
young

Over 11 Mirrors (Chantal Akerman)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 942

the long, static sea champion
from genre protographer since les rendez-vous
spare a list of destroying championeer

by j hoberman’s
doniol-valcroze
second common champion
we were women then: ten minutes
cast digital options

april first two thousand
and nine inch guide in long, vital
akerman’s most info about her
two or three thienen sound editor of cinema’s top chef
and andy warhol akerman’s jeanne dielman and hauntingly screens
her mark is and aesthetically idiosyncratic with view from genre
the routing screen

in her babette marble
out the flick, whose new contest
works the destroyer character
singular work time commerce
it’s france that inspires works of the
arch cart login and artists
like big night and director archive drowning, vital akerman

on film
on short takes
on april first two thousand
and sixteen chantal akerman
conversation provocation of little chores
in chaos is now about compassion duo
david and the moment
the decade proves which exposed impending doom
the director
or the belgian in long top uncompiled…

Dementia Landscape

a fire roars 
in foreign white ink a familiar name, no not familiar
a bone-inlaid key paws open the heavy vault door
one green eye one red eye laid over the mountain ascent
three deer-blood lips three fir tongues, teeth
        cast like needles over the valley 
                the temple
                the far-off 
                        glacial scar  
like oxen yolked
their gray pupils pull 
through fragile forests of madness, intensity
at least i think so and that counts for something
no one's mad at me
i'm famous and very rich
and remain lazy with no guilt
upon closer inspection: a mystic
hand-in-paw with a brown dog
9 clay pots, they're dancing
near prayer, spontaneous music of the weald.

‘Halo’ by Ailbhe Darcy

It was late last night the dog was speaking of me,
and the gulls speaking of me, out over the field.
You were drawing water from the tap in the kitchen
and a moth was speaking of me, beating for light.

I was raising delft from the sink to the aumbry,
while they spoke of you in loops, over the waves.
I reached for a switch; sunlight coalesced
about your reflection, helmet of bright coils.

Outdoors was a blankness peopled with black angles;
waiting for the water you caught your own glance.
My eyebrows bustled, you submersed in my dressed;
then you were speaking of me, just a word, in response.

All the dogs in America have sisters of their own,
all the birds have sisters, out on the highway.
Moths have moths for sisters, beating out for light,
and I am speaking of you here, to everyone I meet.

Source: Darcy, Ailbhe. Imaginary Menagerie. Tarset, Northumberland: Bloodaxe Books, 2011, p. 31.

Material


sure
i believe
those are people
restore color with light she says
sitting across from him in stagebright
Streamed live on Jan 18, 2019
legs crossed at the knee pouring water
and coffee perhaps a xanax before
permission and intention matter he says
elevated above seven black angels
four white hands
black shoes
collar

‘American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin’ by Terrance Hayes

I only intend to send word to my future
Self perpetuation is a war against Time
Travel is essentially the aim of any religion
Is blindness the color one sees under water
Breath can be overshadowed in darkness
The benefits of blackness can seem radical
Black people in America are rarely compulsive
Is forbidden the only word God doesn’t know
You have to heal yourself to truly be heroic
You have to think once a day of killing your self
Awareness requires a touch of blindness & self
Importance is the only word God knows
To be free is to live because only the dead are slaves


Source: Hayes, Terrance. American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin, 2018, p. 79