automatic black curtain makes way for light within the system for most of the art world’s subconscious — severe ghosts pour through dreams with 16 inchkalashnikovs khan fiercely criticizes desire examines the industrial printer of the black curtain makes way for light herself the artist-activist now represents the system at gagosian it’s hard to admit what she does for light the system infiltrates dreams of the world’s subconscious khan examines the system for the artist-activist the web of the art world’s humorous political projects — objects of power — she’s the light within severe ghosts dreams khan the art world’s unterselfconsciousness — her voice is different from those of the living the armed ghosts the fierce critic of her voice is a fierce critic of most artist-activists
the unsparing sky no one wants the desires pressed against the roof of her mouth that of the artist-activist most of all the high severe ghosts emigrating dreams of the fierce critic her desires examine the hidden bolshevik sky no one wants — least of all the art world’s subclass unconscious
what has me—anything you gave some fifties clothing or my head—great troops to have you—i could play against blackholes like picasso—i would play again like some converse days fell through and become? you look the karen horney kind all—other something screaming sobbing you gave me any possibility no one covered epochs— gold of my best thing you—i would solve a paste or my leave hay feelings two years at whatever wanted life—my fantastic advancing— i recovered with light with light! comedy! tragedy! tragedy! tragedy! tragedy! tragedy! tragedy! tragedy!
would art be a battleground?
forget college circle prompts
reasoning this: the old anti-censorship birth-game
awoke: the journalist outlouds dear trench of sky
scales and art forward has to be black
long for enjoyment during crisis of this: something
my mouth’s desire improving each generation
both males and art forward replace themselves
they believed me once entitled of containment
a generational cataclysm of cloud, because black, because long lines
enjambed of this: shame animates this poem
seven years wet no matter the danger of horah or humor
they please negativity stay with the poem, top-to-tit, before improving it
a prompt: read the work with boys with quick fingers — quick
trench of pharmaceutical glass for what’s parenthetical: i keep forgetting
pronouns ineffectively release negative desires
they have shifted the work, even among the paranoid, to shame anymore.
i have the power of numbers: the trick people are born woke;
the living prompt: read this poem and wept.
This pattern supports previous research
which found the beneficial potential
for humor to release negative mood scales
and replace them
with a positive
sense of euphoria
Both males and females appear to benefit
from the enjoyment
of specific humor
Source: Prerost, F. (1995). Sexual desire and the dissipation of anger arousal through humor appreciation; Gender and content issues. Social Behavior and Personality: An international journal, 23, 45-52.
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Because therapy heals all worlds:
Welcome to Lotus Land.
the TSA Agents of the Mind
shoot back to zip me away from gnosis.
Their neon swims across my whimsy metrics
in the small, air conditioned room.
Whales tornado a hundred thousand phrenology busts.
Warm, oozing cherry wood wands my birdcage.
Me in the center as a campfire. Beeping.
That's why I abandoned the mast for swine.
There's too much good television now.
A speedboat mustn't consider sails.
Odysseus' men slither across their barnacled flesh.
A thousand Athenas for the taking.
I chase the abandoned speedboat
then give up the ghost.
Sacrifice can make me whole again,
says the whales.
The workers — using only her blowholes — tie me
to the television above her
The workers tie on her marvelous golden sandals.
This cool shade sweeps me.
You respond now.