Gratitude

scoop

to wear so many rings your fingertips refuse to meet
to pull up skin-tight jeans
to slip on a pink tube top without being asked
to find what’s in your pocket

what is in your pocket?

to be known for a particular hairdo
to smell the way you do
to be brilliant without being moved
to snooze

oh scent do you see?

to kill in order to live
to grow a theorist in a tube
to suck off a hungry ghost
to love basic vanilla body mist after all these years

what won’t work and why not?

to have that kind of mind
to have this kind of mouth
to charge into the universe’s great recording booth
and scream no no no that won’t work

 

Wikipedia Poem, No. 303

middle-2a

“Primarily that the focus of the work is to find who I am I guess. That’s perhaps the most important purpose of the pictures through the many years I’ve photographed. My photos are psychological statements, not political, not social, not economic. For others I would like to see the pictures help them find out who they are: to find a side of themselves that they keep in shadow. The side they refer to as ‘the dark side.'” Roger Ballen

 

who one is or
is one who after evolution
is some wholes

so one learns to open a door
something’s larger whole
somehow opens

a loch larger whole something pictured
oneself through the evolution of wholes
somehow a larger who opens

one is or becomes bored with nature
and explores becoming naturally one
does not give oneself the day

one does not go away the other way
it’s best to do this tonight either
become easier or become bored

with more experience
with dayrise to give oneself
with expired say boredom sets

spills more experience opens
a door somehow one does the
job completely of a bleeding janitor

paculum-spec2-sm

Source:

wikipedia poem, no. 18

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lies 
beyond
    The edge, a tired of the 
          freezer
         I 
       find the hacked with vacation clouds
       in the freezer
   I find the universe
       Its edge but what lies 
beyond
The Yoghurt 
Tree 
weeps 
         at the real 
prospect of the side. Living grapes in the asphalt’s softest
feed

the 
hacked with vacation clouds
        When 
the kitchen 
the universe
      Its edge, a 
tired 
of 
     the kitchen real prospect 
        of feeling things, 
         even!
Weep!
      Again, I’m 
  hacked with language
Mortified at 
      the, 
by 
   now, 
  felt 
up
universe
       Its edge, tired of the church by now, felt up
      hacked 
with language
Mortified at 
the noon 
clouds

I’m tired of comparing things.