‘subjunctive, infinitive, not tied down’

Wikipedia Poem, No. 988

“Women have all kinds of practice
imagining themselves as men
and men have very little practice
imagining themselves as women.”
Meryl Streep

himself to less difficult words
the male is giving himself to improve
readability
the male is giving himself to passive voice
the male is
giving himself to passive sentence length
the male is giving himself to good results
the sentence length
the male is giving
himself to that which is not enough
the test
the male is giving himself to
sentences
the text
the sentences
the male is giving
himself to sentences
the male is giving himself to transition
the male is giving himself to active
voice
the male is giving himself to that which is giving himself to two instances
the
male
is
giving himself to two instances
the male is giving himself to less
difficult worlds
the male is giving himself
to the male is giving himself to transition words
and sentences

the male is distributing words
the male is giving himself to consecutive sentences
to sentence length
the male is giving himself to your text
the male is giving himself to transition words
the male is giving himself to two
instances
the male is giving himself to sentences
the male is giving himself to less difficult worlds
the male is giving himself
to passive sentence length
the male is giving easy text
the male is giving himself to passive voice
the male is giving himself to sentences
the
male
is giving himself to
sentences
the male is not methuselah’s father
the male is giving himself to that which is giving himself to transitions
the male is giving himself to that which is giving himself to only 3.4 percent of the sentence length
the male is
giving
himself to mix things up
the test
the male is giving himself to active sentences

m is giving himself to transition worlds
the sentence length
the male is giving himself to consecutive sentences
the flesch readability
the sentence length
the male is giving himself
to
passive sentences
the male is giving himself to improve readability
flesch readability
the sentences
the male is giving himself to the same worlds
over and over again the male is giving himself to good truths
the test
the male is giving himself to transitions
the
male
is giving himself to two instances
the male is giving
himself to active
voice
the male is giving
himself to mix things up
the male is giving himself to tradition
the male is not enough
the male is giving himself to sentences where three or more
consecutive sentences
the male is giving himself to less difficult worlds
over and over again the male is
giving himself to improv

New Reform Temple with Snow (How to Fully Inhabit Your Characters)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 986

Barbara Kruger was born in Newark, New Jersey, in 1945. After attending Syracuse University, the School of Visual Arts, and studying art and design with Diane Arbus at Parson's School of Design in New York, Kruger obtained a design job at Condé Nast Publications.

you love/live;
you don’t know the woman
trying to
hold the woman what is this poem about? nancy me — about?
it’s overflowing and and you you get someone trying to tell her story
nancy tells you doesn’t she?
you don’t
know don’t listen
don’t know this woman is what
this poem is about? nancy me
it’s about me suffuse with meaning to get something
to get at her story
u don’t know the woman trying to get at her story she’s dead

something with meaning
her story hold the woman
woman this poem of explicit
gravity overflown with telling
the person who assigns
meaning to her story
it’s overflowing her story
telling/experiencing: woman is about the poem?
nancy me it’s about? nancy
me about? cold and gentle
suffuse with her story
saturated undulating up
meaning feeling material breath
feeling material meaning breath

hold the reality it’s overflowing down
her story is dead she’s dead
she’s the person who

Artifacts of Reference, No. 66

Artifacts of Reference, No. 64

Collage Burning Landscape

Ridgewood, Sunset

what’s even worth painting anymore? all the nerd
girls in big striped sweaters warming bleach moms
gym guys in slate sleeveless tees and they make
shoes out of knit polyester now tight pants loose
pants clouds bodies minds bricks piled up high hair
gel on a young couple four hundred feet away
i’m worried about their screen time is their crib
flammable age sex location trap beats the problem
with not liking anyone is you always have lots of
company imagine for a moment being a sixteen
ounce poland spring bottle the thin crinkling plastic
threaded neck choking hazard threaded cap
arctic-nothing impermanent black they don’t do
decaf here i listen to the gods who do not have my
best interest at heart is it ok for me to smile at the
incandescent young lesbians so in love i’m
repeating myself my recycled edges ache at the
thought of appearing a fanboy Eileen Myles in
my hands my eyes my neurons my hair dirty teeth
rotten and unbrushed like i said: no one’s looking
out for my brief colors i strain to love anyone but i
fear a relapse into hate for everyone hocking trace
antagonism — like me i’m afraid i prefer living in the
cracks and this world powerwashes squatters rats
milkweed moneywort morning glory like us — there
i go dreaming again self-flagellating my verse-thin
flesh which is bulletproof if bullets are tsetse flies
i am genetic i am bodied and disposable if extant
— there is a cloud there is the gelic memory of sun
leather loafer real burning cigarette appropriately
scented altar i don’t care what your mother named
you i will love you anyway without me.

Artifacts of Reference, No. 56

New Mexico State Gem

What is your name? Never know. Hunched, picked off
a pair’a you—neither crow nor winch. A thing
god backlit in neon after blessing us with neon. And I
know what it means as a poet to carry this heavy basket—faint
mason, invisible stevedore, passage of time, neither good nor right.

I am fearful for firm and misunderstood things—
the spume, smiling inside the gargoyle, cultural forb—
they’re no different as carrion ghouls. Time
has done miserable things with light—he waves no
staff nor hauls no sack of turquoise shards. Quick!

He’s about to make a break for it. He’s about to windlass
Into the clouds, that one’s fancy. The crocodile climbs
many painted ladders. No weighted, pretty purple halos
ringing the eyes of these wordy wraiths—embrace
not knowing your name. I struggle to pull down the old crucifix.

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

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…