The Artists’ Head Strung from The Artist’s Head

Wikipedia Poem, No. 885

drop anything my brown kitchen stand falligators quarries airfields swamps post-industrial towns no weather here deep withering made-thing in beautiful or dissociated harmony frying up the stuff and father we make we sort we tell stories you’ll see you said what i don’t call those i read of you here i go again, bumblebeeing, and a notorious leaky bladder the author the sunset-nothing—fully read by drug conviction—hadn’t thought about this before a bouquet of dehydration raked according to all the good over the wall rested in the thing my brown the wrested world’s lean interview with it would just just just strung up confident men

Annie Baker

I’ve explained this before
cut this line & the one before
cut — a metaphor & a beautiful sweater

Anyway, george bush the first is drowning
has drowned — Let’s get on with
the poem: I trip over the sky

I am, she says, hideous
language, she says drinks
double IPAs like chainmail

Even his spanish birds, who have
paid dearly, roast in mount etna
sad face — i don’t want to burn

I don’t want to talk about my dad
he nods at every colloquialism
squatting in the alley, even

His students have paid dearly
do you have a story to tell
storyteller? stonecutter?

Worth it?
to manipulate
our constitution?

Good soldier of poetry
future filmmakers
figure its technical precision

We, as an audience, start to race ahead
the poem catches up with you
& leads you into uncharted

Territories — universal, simple
rules, 1916, an operation i have
inserted myself too much into

Biology. they will never make
a great poem — the die reads
four — just reads. 1,000-year-

Old poetry. the creation of the world
neither earth was yet there
who made midgar? the matchless

Earth, the green soft, a golden
capped rut of his skull, laconic,
beyond all this — a continuous

Story. the peregrine
kathy’s casino his eyelids his
dancing monkey his heavy lidded

Return to the colony
there’s an old joke
define the clan

I tip over the
vending machine
nothing comes out

But the woman
pushed it over & by god
the thing was done — a spark!

It’s a light. how patient
we are all here. yr voice
is so small and sweet.

Things to Do with the Abnormal King

Wikipedia Poem, No. 865

w865

            Most influential work, contrast the positivist view: 
Argue that which sentences, heavy with truth-value, 
            abnormal abound:
            go aweigh,            go!

Neither truth nor performance, 
text in particular, sentences, call the performative 
peculiar;
            u up?

            Oh, abnormal king!  
Utter one of those  
astonishing valleys;
go slink a matinee in exile soiled sound 
            — such loose snakes —
            sluice fireworks over war:
            I, anti, sit and do, climax, nothing.

Motorcycle Poem (Toward a Synthesis)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 845

w845

toward new 
language [breath]  
liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate 
choice [breath]  in a language on two wheels [breath]  hurtling 
toward the language [breath]  language [breath]  language [breath]  
liberate power [breath]  
in a language [breath]  liberate choice [breath]  in a language [breath]  
language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in 
a language [breath]  liberate choice [breath]  in a 
    language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  
liberate 
choice [breath]  in a language [breath]  
liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  language [breath]  
liberate choice [breath]  in a 
language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  
liberate choice [breath]  in a language [breath]  language [breath]  
liberate 
power [breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate choice 
[breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  
in a language [breath]  liberate choice [breath]  in a language 
[breath]  liberate 
      power [breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate choice 
[breath]  in a language [breath]  
liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  language 
[breath]  liberate choice [breath]  in a language [breath]  
liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate choice 
[breath]  
   in a language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a language 
[breath]  liberate choice [breath]  in a language [breath]  language
 
     on two wheels [breath]  hurdling over the shackles [breath]  suddenly
unlocks [breath]  dissolves 
or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or 
simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve or simply drop [breath]  dissolve or simply drop [breath]  
dissolve 
or simply drop [breath]  
by a new aesthetic of the scrutiny of the language [breath]  liberate power 
[breath]  in a 
language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate power 
[breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  
liberate power [breath]  in a language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a 
language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  
in a 
language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a language 
      on two wheels [breath]  hurtling flow of 
      language without fairings [breath]  uncompromising toward the language 
[breath]  language [breath]  liberate power [breath]  in a 
language [breath]  liberate 
     choice [breath]  
in 
a language [breath]  
power [breath]  in a language [breath]  choice [breath]  in a 
language [breath]  power [breath]  in a language [breath]  choice and power 
[breath]  in a language on 

two wheels [breath]  hurdling over the language [breath]  that language [breath]  
self-extols strength [breath]  in a language [breath]  extol strength [breath]  in a 
language on two wheels [breath]  hurtling toward the language [breath]  
extol strength [breath]  in a 

language [breath]  language [breath]  extol strength [breath]  in a language 
[breath]  extol strength [breath]  in a language [breath]  extol strength [breath]  
in a language [breath]  extol strength [breath]  in a language [breath]  language 
[breath]  extol 

strength [breath]  in 

a language [breath]  extol strength [breath]  in a language [breath]  language 
[breath]  

extol strength [breath]  in a language [breath]  extol strength [breath]

 

A Poem Cannot Freeze Time

Maker:0x4c,Date:2017-9-26,Ver:4,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar01,E-Y

electric om
of fridge
spin/fade
of digital cube
which is no cube at all
dog’s breath
irradiated larynx
fixed, forgotten
swallow

This galactic lick of nouns to verb
And I burn the dictionary.

Charming Modern Poem

Wikipedia Poem, No. 785

w785-2-sm

you are waiting for the construction
of my body my body as an extension
of my body my body as an extension

i am waiting for the construction
i am ammo at the art stud club

i need i need i need to be
those psychic territorial power lines
women were admitted to use my body
my body my body my body my body

as an extension

i am my ammunition i am my poison
i am ammunition image paint-construction

i am awaiting-construction
i am ammunition image painting
construct this one thing for me dear

reader i am ammo at the art stud club
i need the art stud club
i need to use my body

my body extends and i am moved
to challenge and threaten the psychics
in the modern temple i am moved

Whiteacre with God of Love

Wikipedia Poem, No. 671

w671-sm.jpg

the is
that makes
art but
the gone that
twines dimension as has the
gold-treated cheap
not by its job to lead us too
but so easily apparent any old
color—as too easily
apparent—and such a color but this
will not
be so
easy color
but the
way he became
a man to wait

there came a man wait

Continue reading

I am Begging for the Approval of Any Potential Bros Out There with the Publication of this Three-Thousand Word Essay on Medium #hmu

Wikipedia Poem, No. 601

‪men / stumble around / a bag of steaming chicken bones

but not-doing
         en   stumbles 
chicken bones here  
    
‪men   stumble chicken bones here  

‪men   stumble 
       chicken 
  bones here  
  
‪men   stumble around a bag of steaming chicken bones here  

         ‪men   stumble 
flip flops and 
      broadway   in chicken bones cheap  

‪men   stumble chicken 
bones 
        here  
        
  ‪men   cheap cheap
       stumble chicken bones 
         here  

   ‪men   stumble 
around clucking cheap
        bag of steaming chicken 
        bones 
here  

  ‪men    chicken boned out on   

‪men   stumble 
around 
   bag of steaming chicken bones  

         ‪chicken 
         bones here  

‪men   stumble around 
      a bag of steaming chicken bones here  
      
         ‪men   stumble 
      chicken bones here  
     
‪men   stumble chicken bones 
         here  

‪men   flip flop 
broadway   
    in fucking flip flops 
and faded-red-lipstick-on-tossed-off-marlboro 
  shorts ‬
       
          not listening   but not-doing  that's for sure
      it 
listen   but not-doing
en   stumble 
chicken bones here cheap  
        
‪men   
stumble chicken 
bones here  

‪men   stumble   
chicken bones    here  
men   stumble   

   ‪men   
stumble 
      around a 
bag of steaming 
      chicken bones here  
        
‪en  
        stumble 
chicken bones en here en
   
‪men   cheap men  stumble around 
steaming   

   ‪men   stumble 
      chicken boned here  
      
‪men   stumble around a bag   

      ‪men   
stumble flip flops and broadway   
        fucking chicken bones 
        down there  

  ‪men   stumble 
    chicken bones 
here  

‪men   stumble in flip flops 
  around  
broadway and spring street  
      in 
fucking 
      chicken 
   bones    

‪men   
stumble bones 

      ‪chickens   
stumble 
      over men   oven-pigs
         
       ‪men   stumble 
          chicken 
  bones 
here  

     ‪men   
     stumble chicken 
bones here  

‪men   stumble chicken 
bones here  

  ‪men   stumble around a bag 
of steam 
   around a 
bag 
         of steam   playin' chicken there  

   ‪men   
     stumble  
     
‪men   
          stumble 
chicken'n 
  bones 
here  
          
‪men   there chicken there 
bones 
          here and hear   

‪men   do not hear 
    chicken bones 
       hear  

  ‪hairy men   chant
stumble in flip 
    chicken- 
         bone flop  

‪men   flip chicken bones here  

‪men   flip  
       bones here  

       ‪men   
stumble 
   over at above against   bones 
     here chicken chant

yellow ‪stumbling chicken shit 
bones

men   wear chicken bones 
when  it suits them

‪men   stumble 
chicken bones 
here  
       
          ‪men   stumble 
in spring street on flip flops and 
     broadway   phantom lovers   
phantoms   their damn selves

 

Have you ever heard of Piero Manzoni?

“I should like all artists to sell their fingerprints, or else stage competitions to see who can draw the longest line or sell their shit in tins. The fingerprint is the only sign of the personality that can be accepted: if collectors want something intimate, really personal to the artist, there’s the artist’s own shit, that is really his.” Piero Manzoni

Oh, honey… Who can deprive a word of its meaning? Do you claim the words when you arrange them? Do you borrow them? Lease them? Leash them? How do you own them, particularly?

Have you ever heard of Piero Manzoni?

You are a vector. That’s all. I am a vector, too. The second you say something is beautiful, or a poem, or art, it becomes that. It’s that simple. Anything else is violent colonialism. Stricture.

This is what post-modernism is about. And by post-modernism, I just mean a movement projected forever forward into space. Like a light never dying. Sure, you’ll stop perceiving it at some point, but your explication of your perception is just limiting the reality of that object. Those words ever only meant anything to you. What happens to them as they super-ball around the room is exactly as irrelevant and as cosmically important as the words (objectively) and you (also objectively.)

I poop on a plate and present it proudly as art, it’s art. I put your words in a grinder and call it a poem, it’s a poem. Nowadays, it’s all just a matter of will, marketing and polish. Meaning is expressed by how words relate to each other in the reader’s mind, not in the poet’s mind.

We’ve (I’ve) been doing this for years (times infinity) does the practice (product) gain meaning because it’s remembered? Remembered to what extent? To what ends? Because one can quote it? Because it has generational weight? Because it effects policy change? Because it puts one smile on one face for one fleeting moment? Because it locks one professor into her peach tenure track?

Ever wonder why Wittgenstein ended up designing doorknobs?

(I love you, btw, as a person who is interested in poetry. I’m not grumbling here, just twisting my own nipples to get a bit of magma flowing.)

Erotic Possibilities in a Dark Theater

Wikipedia Poem, No. 414

wiki414-sm

“magic, knot / black or core // unknown known only / by flit of absence and its // hard creak senses / bleak” elena minor

          there was no 
    down time 
in his hard eyes
  keep 
in mind 
      the 
darkness for shaded lively 
      space 
and what an interior 
where it is hard to prosecute
         if no complaint offers the possibility 
     for remaking both the dark 
ideal and safe 
shaded lively rows 

when frank mentions the 
  dark scraping over the connotations 
of a plaited new york city theater seat
         keep 
       in mind its erotic potential 

offer me something 
by the usher's flashlight 
and forgive my alleyway mouth

paculum-spec2-smSources:

  • Porter, Fairfield . Portrait of Larry Rivers. 1951, oil on canvas, Colby College Museum of Art Museum, Waterville, Maine.
  • Minor, Elena. Titulada. United States: Noemi Press, 2014. Print.