art
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wikipedia poem, no. 6
One airstream mechanism said to the Earth If it pleases, the lake’s water shall drain north into the Strait of Juan de Fuca Stops may be made with air flowing outward from language Filling the main trough—note the asymmetry—altered by glacial forces The M=O=U=T=H, the clear imprint on advancing land, retreating evidence of lake extension…
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Any Noise
Breath into microphone saliva pop Phone vibrates twice on a countertop My stomach your eyelashes Knuckle crack cop hiss boiled-over pot Not looking the big red voice dry white wine noise Scream I’m here you have a choice.
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wikipedia poem, no. 2
With weaponsWithout weaponsprincipled firmness—body first the thing the master has not saidforce, reaction, opponent—hand, elbow, kicks, escape and levering attack and defense sculpted against wrestling—with drastic violencechoking from behind—knife and sword against students armed opponents, long, short, trains the body first, then the mind.
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wikipedia poem, no. 1
Malmesbury born and died ascended philosopher-priest feather-rich 1651 daemon on absolute sovereign right of individualequality of manartificial character, order legitimate political power where matter lasts, motion, obedienceobeying influence
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Notes from a dream, 1215-172013
1. “Ashuver Sixlio” 2. “As I failed to shoot the dog” 3. Lot of dreams tonight. I curse myself for not waking to sketch them along the way. But last among them: On the streets of NYC, with Andrew as sort of assistant, photographing the street. Lots of people. Smiles but also secret shooting of the…
anxiety, art, cigarettes, decim8, dog, dreams, girls, guns, holidays, image, incantations, night, photography, sleep, smoking, target, television, unknowable, x-files -
warm /in/
the brutal dew crystallized crawlingwonders between heat lifeglaze all warm lightthis voicelong after deathlost /in/ witness what sublingual shadeby what bent recollectionunder which narrowed whothere of loveconcrete of for c.t., c.o.
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“Cy Twombly” from “Collected Prose of Charles Olson”
“Sculpture fled. And architecture has now run after. And for good reasons: that the round world (which it was their job to lead us to enjoy—to illuminate)—turned to rot. It had been treated cheap, not by these arts but by what makes arts: men. All the golden things, including the mean, got debased. Then everything…
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Untitled 07182013, second draft
I don’t give a shit About the jungle Or your long trek To profitable madness As I sound out that place’s strange name Sweating, mosquito-thick, blood green Impossible to itch An incantation The machete blade Turns to coin. Reminding my shrink of this story He hands over a live freshwater trout I really can’t compete.…
wikipoem.org 