of digital cube
which is no cube at all
This galactic lick of nouns to verb
And I burn the dictionary.
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
the gone that
twines dimension as has the
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
way he became
a man to wait
there came a man wait
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
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.)
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
not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not desperate not thirsty in the rolling fighting flat white house paint a well-used drop cloth
ivermectin oxygen therapy
injectable ketamine propofol
halothane isoflurane nitrous oxide
bupivacaine lidocaine epinephrine
atropine midazolam morphine
acetylsalicylic acid ibuprofen paracetamol
codeine morphine amitriptyline
diazepam docusate sodium
fluoxetine haloperidol hyoscine
butylbromide hyoscine hydrobromide
lactulose loperamide metoclopramide
midazolam ondansetron senna
dexamethasone epinephrine hydrocortisone
loratadine prednisolone activated charcoal
acetylcysteine atropine calcium gluconate
methylthioninium chloride methylene blue naloxone
penicillamine prussian blue sodium nitrite
sodium thiosulfate deferoxamine
dimercaprol fomepizole sodium calcium edetate
succimer carbamazepine diazepam lorazepam
magnesium sulfate phenobarbital
phenytoin valproic acid
levamisole mebendazole niclosamide
praziquantel pyrantel albendazole
Hi, Joanna. How have you been?
I’m well. You look well — I’m
Happy to hear you use that word.
Good. Good. Well, anyway, I’m
Concerned about your voice.
No, specifically the way you recite.
It’s … troubling. You appear snakelike
And arrested, harmless. That’s not the way.
It’s not. I wouldn’t say “short of breath”
Exactly. Let’s call it, Forked-god. Please,
Calm down. I’m going to ask you
A couple of questions about your sexual history. Is that OK?
You switch back and forth between — please,
Correct me if I’m wrong — between
Subject and solitude. That’s to say:
Radical loneliness and decimation. Correct?
Masturbation may be part of it, but I’m speaking
Broadly about a timeline of sexual partners:
Moon-god, Ocean-sent, Stoic-antler. Relevant?
Of course. Its right here on your chart, Joanna:
“Five-three, phenotypically retroussé nose,
Tumescent pout, cosmetically rebellious.”
So, why this affected staccato when you read?
The music is beautiful it takes me a long time to see that this is besides the point. József Lendvay is beautiful like the music masculine affirmative embracing what is sad although I do not know from stories told to me but the music speaks and I understand it. But he says it and I have heard it clearly. Then something undeniable happens as József commands the percussion the second and third violins the patient cellos stare at the black shoulder-length curls begging for some contact waiting for a sign or a nod of approval or a rebuke József walks away from his attention and checks in with the bass reluctant at first again this cannot be a mistake. The bass speaks confident plays confident the incomparable shadow of József who notices nods again. The orchestra swells rehearsed a thousand times a reckless bass bounces atop other instruments strings stinging the fret board hard leather soles delighted at the floor boards of the wedding of flames the bass is free never before. Never. Reverie reserved a shuffling now of the feet somber and the bass back into His shadow then His shadow He blots out. In this disappearing the most muscular His eyes emerge to lunch spit out bones evaporate eviscerate. He reappears totally beside the bass nods the bass inhales draws its shadow repeats fills himself in with shadow turbulent shadow bravado fragile bravado deadly bravado’d shadow recedes all swell embrace bigger than clearly music not an imitation now but a formless capital commanding József still dancing in the shadow smiles bows bravo.