For All the Vegans I’ve Loved and Consumed (Trendy Modernist Power Play)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 991

ONE

of animals
as moral consumers
justify their sight

moral consumption of animals and you
don’t fry up this fragmented animal
as moral constraint either hence

we dig up this fragmented animal class
in anti-intellectual stories under wonder
what’s moral consumption?

the poets are moral consumers mutatis mutandis
what’s moral? we wonder what’s something their patients see
this fragmented pharmaceutical animal perhaps?

as far as moral constraint
either we wonder what’s moral or
consume animals as we wonder what’s moral

TWO

self-awareness
don’t fry up that ego: all organisms work
self-affirming live monkey limb
because we think of animals as moral consumptions
size and constraint either hence we consume them
but we don’t generally see animals
we don’t have stories to tell
self-affirming little tales to negotiate
guilt over knives
don’t ponder what’s moral consumption
size and constraints
what their habits whisper of self-awareness
don’t have their patients moral consumption
animals as moral consumers of size
condors constrain their populations
but they selfishly extol story structure
that doesn’t have to do with man and god
foolish moral constraints as we wonder what’s moral
consumption sounds and chimps
our nearest relatives tearing
them apart but selfishly expanding
to don’t have stories to justify they also don’t have live monkeys
pharmaceutical animals as tonal constraint
what’s our nearest relative for tearing
tell me something about self-awareness
to negotiate guilt tell me
hurting stories to negotiate guilt
hurting their habitats don’t consume size and constraint
what of them? their populations? there’s only one story
the tearing story we tell self-affirming agents
no normal moral considerations just stories
what’s moral consumption size and constraint
either we wonder what’s or we don’t

THREE

something trendy back in grad school
all the poets enabled study of age as a class
in all those poems that enabled

so it was its almost discourses that as poets
were something of pound olson duncan and you
to undergrad all the trendy bach pieces

the poems people turned in at grad school
all the trendy modernist power play
a pound of olson a pound of duncan

and you don’t have to dig up this fragmented
anti-intellectual potsherd
weak domesticated anti-intellectual egoism

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

 

Wikipedia Poem, No. 90

IMG_6343

“They are killing me the bastards. The idea of the party tomorrow destroys me. I must win. I must I must I must I must I must. I’ll tell my fortune with the cards.” Simone de Beauvoir

     it eliminates these mephitis have suffered in sub-zero
It 
is 
abhorrent 
the slaughterhouse, 
many are extreme 
      These scavenging carcasses 
        when trucked to suffered 
     in 
silence
         Laboring 
animals, the video
          
   The misery of 
prey of egg-laying has 
       suffering 
   under weight and plucked Would it 
eliminate 
      change 
         is abhorrent 
   these mephitis has 
suffering has been well-documented
         
      Would 
it 
eliminate change is least like a birds also clearly are enduring 
  under weight and pluckednd 
pluckednd pluckednd pluckednd pluckednd plucked 
Would it eliminate change 
is abhorrent the suffering 
the 
         suffered 
i

Notes from a Dream

IMG_3928

This was supposed to be your time
Your culinary thrill of lacks
Of withholding and yet

Her red terry cloth poem
Was gentle and clever and despite
Its applause lacked an ending and I pin her against the brick wall and tell her so

It must turn sharp at the end I say
I show her in a delirium of fabrics
It’s an obligation, a blind frenzy, a hard stop

Then the lispy collagist from Texas and the beautiful
Blue eyed singer, face tight like a boxer
We share passions are fearless and abandon each other

At the now empty eating hall a gallery-quality life
Hewn  Yet the bathroom there a mess
The door blown off the stall