Wikipedia Poem, No. 740

“That the paper of record could print such mendacious rubbish is a telling symptom of the ideological sickness of our time. The widespread collapse of journalistic standards in the United States is a part of a general and rapid deterioration of thought, language and, above all, cultural and historical memory.” The New Criterion

myself and the picture is dead not passed into something about their machen mōgen mache knife something i remain facted about that truck outside our home the purpose gruesome videos taught me something we’re next her and her dam; breaking life i am this transition she worlds sometimes with force

“Her friends have given her a toaster, which she shows off gratefully.” Laurent Binet

her dam; breast empathy it was to know i don’t fear death not passed into or through the neck bone someone else’s in college myself and picture her mouth and blood tissue i will remind me by opening traffic to ascertain remain remarkable to beat empathy remarkable to the exact degree of a mid sized sedan in slow mo

“It was unsafe to meddle with the corpses and ghosts of these creatures. A sort of generic or Pantheistic vitality seemed to lurk in their very joints and bones, after what might be called the individual life had departed.” Herman Melville

coriolis force something told anyone before she will remain remarkable to sometimes i for a dam; breath something teach me some videos taught me / by the asked to ascertain unkempt her hand she is death failing traffic to sometimes i force myself and my wife to take the asked to ascertain such remarkable scale




‘Magpiety’ by Czeslaw Milosz


The same and not quite the same, I walked through oak forests
Amazed that my Muse, Mnemosyne,
Has in no way diminished my amazement.
A magpie was screeching and I said: Magpiety?
What is magpiety? I shall never achieve
A magpie heart, a hairy nostril over the beak, a flight
That always renews just when coming down,
And so I shall never comprehend magpiety.
If however magpiety does not exist
My nature does not exist either.
Who would have guessed that, centuries later,
I would invent the question of universals?

Montgeron, 1958


Source: Miłosz, Czesław. New and Collected Poems, 1931-2001. New York, N.Y: Ecco, 2003. Print.

Public Broadcast Spearfishing

Wikipedia Poem, No. 729

The Tale

“At the John Weber gallery in New York, in 1972, on two separate occasions, [Hans] Haacke created a sociological study, collecting data from gallery visitors. He requested the visitors fill out a questionnaire with 20 questions ranging from their personal demographic background information to opinions on social and political issues. The results of the questionnaires were translated into pie charts and bar graphs that were presented in the gallery at a later date. They revealed, among other things, that most visitors were related in some way to the professions of art, art teaching, and museology, and most were politically liberal.” from the Wikipedia entry for Hans Haacke

“We have awaited the coming of a natural / phenomenon. Mystics and romantics, knowledgeable / workers / of the land. // But none has come. / (Repeat) / but none has come. / Will the machinegunners please step forward?” Amiri Baraka, from A Poem Some People Will Have to Understand

     yes you did o! yes 
          you did
     yes you combine that o! and this  
          yes and what a good television broadcast 

there are so many
layers of good television viewers 
because like you whale-ish legerdemain
giscard is so good on television 

     because viewers like you 
          what a good television vision viewer 
     you that giscard wolfs 
          so many loose downy fish

there are so many underwater men 
on television eroding boats a good 
television viewer like you did o! yes you 
make it visible now and for good 

     yes you make 
          good television viewers toothy
     it’s because there are so many
          like you that a good television burns with soft fur

a field at a gas pump standing animals it's a boy torturing 
loneliness it's a boy's tortured alone in a snowfall
snowfall he's got the laugh of wheat everywhere no car 
a dead brown leaf dancing animals it's a boy o!




Charles IX medal commemorating the St. Bartholomew’s massacre. 1572

int has served me well
served silently though i
find some small satisfaction
of rain and it still rains

so, here: looking is no thinking
some bundle of typeerrors refuses multiplication
sequence-thinking iterates
of critique since said with still promise
to never despise all this thingyness
already the objects i know think too much
disappoint people in counting customers
know their way around! i’m alone i think of a lock
what people mechanize in the world
though a simple technological advance
counted sits in some conceived divine place not here not
so manly as to serve the crow that quietly delivers the day
maybe he praised you approach the quick iridescing children
their wings type it’s still rain just looking down from information
as a mountain i mean to intimate with love do you understand me?
i find behavior confidant and events undivine unlikely
a variety of typeerrors bloom into cheap aluminum
keys suddenly things are meant to click and begin
and do begin in fact without a single int

Subject Verb Agreement with Butchered Duck


when for a brief moment it is gone
now the unremarkable house two blocks northeast
burns the average color of candycorn
and by average color you mean something simple
but technical perhaps a bit too specific. no!
you mean to say what you mean to say
this is fundamental you can see the subject out your window
out beyond all that eleven degree uniform noise quiet as snow
the breath past house gift again plain
everything perceivable fences and filtered
light. your accent. can you imagine it mercurial
hunger chopping all those tender Rs into unrecognizable
duck-bits in the dawn hours from a michelin star


“One should aim to memorize the precise point on the map to retrieve those pleasures.”

Wikipedia Poem, No. 694


you logic in softness             please so stay 
rodents surface war again some sinful slime a boar ever in bush

you pinch birch
crush them between bite the seconds count to 206 degrees

you posit soft chew 
that proof of god in the bark not weak    please again don't knock

Poet’s Market 2018

Wikipedia Poem, No. 682


“Maybe you have to be from there to hear it sing” C.D. Wright


a bell 
long ago 
rung in fear
one with 
a thousand 

a great poem can be 
wild nectar or a great poem 
can be scrubbed from the timeline

by whom?                his moaning
                        to be 

how      i assume 
you didn't choose what 
you'd surreptitiously strike

one perfect choice what'd you 
have to not say
          about the young plants 

the end   so wild
      so abandoned of cherry blossom 
not the wild plants with a thousand-word long line 

and this morning i'm unable 
to plant anything lovely 
a cypher as if long ago the bell was rung 

in a dark mossy room 
ducks in marshland jump 
into the air and crash

a great poem can be removed with buck
and jump a great poetry book should be 
wild never hit one perfect cherry blossom 

if by cherry blossom you mean sells well
every day i taste a man my poem 
can be how it is assumed	you'd never

choose what you'd never hit one 
perfect choice nectar of the therapist 
the tended-to plants present wild nectar 

with both hands a great poem removed from 
morning is not a therapist is not a plant lovely
his dog kills the therapist his morning 
is lovely and romantic 
and his morning is not the wild nectar 
on the thousand turning silent eyes

there is loveliness and fun 
the therapist and the therapist's dog 

kill ducks in marshland
a great poem can be 
removed by scrubbing

from mourning 
i'm unable to choose 
what you'd nectar on o reader

a great poem can be removed 
from the whiteness of the bath
is not led into a thing 
i'm unable to recall the wild never
the title of a long 
ago rung bell afraid 

one perfect choice what 
you'd nectar on a great poem can be 
how wild plants are lovely without us

and buck (he says you didn't choose) 
on a great poem can be removed 
and planted in the garden beside his body 

i wonder 
is there not a therapist 
inside every ridiculous yes

Positive Style Witch (Stephanie Burt)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 669


bono ich ichor   be the dog's    
hat an ichor lana                                                      
brain 19th the hittite lovers whale-sea manninguage 

show me any persona
and i will find you
opportunity love 

was       manhattan sweat an indo-european 
in you lover we'll see language has a way       
a dog's hat is a distinct memory branch 

show me any persona
and i will find you 
puzzle's love 

ich of their guts shades only sweat 
ichor-ture not mentioned but black in your eye 
biblical way intent attention sweat caitlyn jenner

show me any persona
and i will whisper
weakness into
the wreck

renee ramsey       branch         ich-ichor attend to sweat 
ana branch ichor caitlyn jenner known as 
black indo-european       in your eye regional

show me any persona
tell me about 
opportunity's lost

identury attenuated in your      eye black unrelated 
for   christina
tom gabel your         eye        black 

show me any persona
where music is buried
and i'll find love 
to lose

in you lover chelsea manning bradley
renee         renee renee ramsey manning 
the hair gel stuck in the 19th century anatolian core

show me any persona
deep inside 
your love 

sometimes uninhabitable true true love lover 
chelsea           manning withhold my free vision
bruce jenner                              bradley renee ramsey 

show me any persona
and i will shake 
terror of the  

ichor compels ichor      sometimes stuck in your eye 
black indo-european years bruce jenner brain 19th the what           
the not intention but     the christina kahrl angel membered people       

show me any persona
and hold you up
to the sun 

convent bono in 19th tether from they're native lover xychelsea 
maman est morte    indo-european luck       in 19th thread
in 19th century the ichor caitlyn           jenner the sweat their guts

show me any persona
the fire within 
i'll tell you 

stuck in your eye       be gone who indo-european 
ichor language watcher renee related the what         
your eye biblically       sweet       a dog's hat in neon        

show me any persona
tempt me the you 
about blood

who ich ich of      the was          hair anatolian plague
they're neither enterpreted nor competent
aujourd'hui il fait beau    sweat     monger

show me any persona
cleave the hog
a complete

the luwians shot all the infants 
your          brain-eye black with the unrelated anatolians    
the shot of the wettest future       

show me any persona
and i'll tell you about 
my love 

black is unadorned in 19th defenestration
in you lover chelsea manning bruce jenner    
bradley ichor language who ich ichor caitlyn jenner

show me any persona
and i'll tell you about 
my time in the

hat and hair
in         sweat 
tethered in your eye


Wikipedia Poem, No. 667


an acquaintance
a friend
a neighbor

see especially women
friends and neighbors

seen especially as women
friends and rivals called to attend
the splicing of a useful rope to invoke
a less-useful loop

later familiar or idle talk
about our lingering smog of
eighteenth century exploitation

explode the old english godsibb
as in sponsored by an exploring god

Old English god “supreme being, deity; the Christian God; image of a god; godlike person,” from Proto-Germanic *guthan (source also of Old Saxon, Old Frisian, Dutch god, Old High German got, German Gott, Old Norse guð, Gothic guþ), from PIE *ghut- “that which is invoked” (source also of Old Church Slavonic zovo “to call,” Sanskrit huta- “invoked,” an epithet of Indra), from root *gheu(e)- “to call, invoke.” 1

then god’s toothful parent
not the true god but capitol
god of trifling talk
of groundless rumor

familiar formations
of the old universe
extended into middle-life

godparents dying
from dehydration
in kids r us