nuclear nip bit mono genome apron gone teasing customs snide clung merging
such holes with clung or tens in log keeping bit in guitar tip bitmaps nut in among
in bills care lineage mouth bearing knives knife mocking bitch linking uncle in compact
with atomic someone notes in null modesty sordino
To prefer the bruised fruit. Apple of sex, not a peach.
Parting lips in a landscape. To coordinate by the kiss, all roads leading to it. Dirt dampened on its way clearly to mud.
Nothing replaces heighth of a parapet, of a principle. Conditions of cellular production without a view.
"Stardust." Animal filament forms between our bodies. Perfecting the work or the life frets a string.
Gauze is a poor concealer. Spinnerts blind my eye to markets. The point is to apprehend the world. Achoo, you're under arrest.
On your toes the red-rimmed inclines toward purple. Your face masking a future, eyes fixed on the back of your favorite head. Light uninterrupted by curvature bears the apple away.
A solar principle surrounded by the night it blinds. The new twenties threaded through with colorful overproduction. Who can stop the Chinese orbiter?
Who would stop. Catch rain in a rusty oil barrel, see your tax dollars at work. Oxidation happens.
"Crazy." In your torn dress you follow the trail of ruby slippers. Bowery boudoir under pale glass slivers. A couch in the middle of the street.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it. The information is arranged in blue and green plastic bins, later to be hauled away. Stockroom fucking, mean what you say.
Mean what you say, there's enough for everyone.
Fruited skin of harvestime wrapped in hot foil—that's desire. Archaic agricultural methods accumulate beards of virtue. Plain as your nose.
Slender's the least of her.
Hunger's attractive package if your dream were mine. The best song in the world! The last of Ithaca's only lonely, moated by what we know. A blow.
a voice enters in ill-defined liquid encaustics....... still simmering in infinite potential. paus d if need be.............. the gun, A revolver, placed pirouette dark and later,,,,, a lost one or unborn GG with a Ministry, along w/ allthe dead pets th t art there (and blessed be their nameS) - with holystump ::: holyholy praisepraise holyholy being the patterned (1) in economy ( last without an address )|||---- an offering in apricot -2-drag ___ out later the flag stuck to inflamed limit parade. batterfanged and bailey wiped - ledges turn to dissolving spirit names that dare not perfect a shape day-by-day or soloist.
there, the law is debunked for lack of credit - voices pulled forth with hypnotic sketches..... as a sure-footed fairE crossedrecrossed opend closed marooned - bey nd laws and rules with $4 crossing fee.
no question of moral bells,
dead fish,
and shameful
thrush perfect songs -
as all pages
turn past our
pagans
endless
guilt-
it was there, before the start, before being recorded as a truth decorum, that didn't happen, and did or could, be a more-or-less unceremonious pain significance, with an air of pre-planned hair cuttings, firmly planted shelter systems for furniture copulation quick-dry cement in the works by numbers, paint by numbers offer that soothes the thought process to a obligatory sea full of abundant entities including those sea horses of different color, isolated with nothing else to do in those vast vistas of three clicks of a heel grand rapids, well, not grand rapids, but close to a thousand islands and canada's niagara fall's ripley's believe-it-or-not-wax-museum, which never showed a single sea hose in its natural environment since beginning day-in-day-out hodgepodge humdrum lingering stood on the everything stock pile that was given sticking point name points for the entire compilation found at security stations check points where each and every noun or new low noun is crossed out in a process, similar to sinking the bismarck, or the last supper meal war bond winner takes-all from the lesser demarcation bay of pigs interlude, between vietnam and that korean oasis moving parallel, on the quarter hour propaganda for feeding just before nap time, in or with oceans of cream corn and overcooked meat monday through thursdays, never on fishstickfridays with those special behind the gym cheap bus motel rendezvous, alone on a deserted barber chair for the first time marking decisions without index vote casting machines moon walks and those all inclusive projection devices for futurist moving black lace panties in-and-out of idle atmosphere where the guide dog uses it to take anyone to outer edge of the known and/or unknown snapped back universe between dentistry and detergent to an or-or compulsion fastidious roundabout way of progressing through penal eye codes, true-false conclusions hat and tie testing, this is your weapon, this is your gun in the name of "I" holy sickness and normal health simile parking lot for reused harbingers and cast lots pointers, changes that could be cloud nine from planet nine sheets on a shingle sheeted plain blank white paper tigers, tangled messages or the messenger that became the "if nothing else fails," single doppler on double decker marriage blood test and syphilis overcoat, masters and bachelor's and master's master, but not yet, and still the midwest mayonnaise roustabout, curtailing deep fried southern everything nowhere as faraway faraday from there to here, could be eternity punctuated before a drunken stupor mechanics obligatory factory first plan best plan to the hair which wretch wrench is a ratchet which is not phillips cuts best in maccurthur's modus operandi, I shall return I shall return or just fade away in the eye of "a" god white as irony snow ho ho budwiser never more and never more waits to sign the stop-watch mail-clerk check-point procreator without a flair return to sender love letter.
need ribbon as bias pal male need chyde gutsy guru fishing fist fined add ribbon
bases as sizes sizable data patch pareto bunch burps appear appeal apple irons
irr iron bias witty fit for ill heads proceed frog pal sled slot slant male metrics
chatter check crept crypt crusher chyde valid vapor gutsy coaches coded coral
colons con beta retry stir stops afraid for card sales hall bust busy write wrecked
wrote yell rely ride side blend bloom not cloned
Heart freed of fluttering you take me
back, though I was holding. A word
is a test. The city finds it, repeating,
like a wish, like something willed,
it moves it forwards by two
directions: sliding backwards and
eyeing forwards. If it doesn't ignite
you, it was nothing, you dusted
yourself off, strengthened your clothes
and walked on. "Instruct them by giving
permission, tuning the continuum with
shades of color, notes of sound."
Fate is an awning, bumping against
the side of the house in a heavy
breeze.
Reading about Emily Dickinson yesterday (in relation to Boston and place as poetics, as well as to Sylvia, opening scene of the film's title superimposed on trees outside of Boston somewhere): "After the first book she thought in ecstacy, 'This then is a book! And there are more of them!'"
Antonia Palacios and Elizabeth Schon, likewise, write for Caracas as a 20th century universe. Each street or avenue a novel, possible re-writing of the city. From a computer seat, timed hour, lined notebook. Allston, Massachusetts is Brazil in the window signs w/ a music's clear intent. Venezuela (repetition) in my case.
What could be said about Martha Kornblith's reading of Plath in Caracas of the early to mid 1990s? With a bored glance, Kornblith flourishing a scholar's patient library, wading through fear.
best fist forward, un-dyed eyes & this loose-fitting chicken skin? I went a'peckin' -- dancers on bamboo squares fry the details, baby sugar wasps! change down, less than one, less than negative "A" / jump away from the blast, carbon tissue fractal, hell of fire -- we all rushed out into the parking lot to watch the flames.
will we find any eggs on Halloween morn? Yes, but they will be filled with baby spiders, flesh-creepers -- down up on the bottom of the bus, I found the bottle (no msg) I've been in costume all year long. butter-blood cakes & far to go away, lazy iron eye. why patch it? I'm back on the bus -- I have the "ECO" Pass (no need for a trans/fer.) no gambling?
back try seven shields, hanging on the great wall, mocks nick at shiver stiff. big ol' Dr. buttons covering the stolen smock, spock! I walked into the wall right before the tumble-shift (axis) when the frame volume passes the round blaze cannon, dial into a log-warp or next nick, news. uh, numbers again. cartoon math smack-sheet & we're beaten and bleeding, aquatic sheep bleat bleach, ol' Dr. Shearer has run out of breath.
uh-huh, battle-box, right. I'm listening, thinking about a bottle of win(d)e(x)? I'm drier than a dehydrated tarantula sitting atop a slice of stale toast on a merman sundae. fashion bee / sting hive adema rash prick test, the worst part of the examination besides the smell of twelve-year old aged steak in my trikker-treet bag. (flinch)
you had asked if I would submit some of iduna to as-is.. I can only put parts since the whole is muti-layered as one of other as-is'ers (the brillant) Eileen Tabios spoke of and also the wonderful new editor of Boog City stephanie young http://stephanieyoung.durationpress.com/archives/000212.html
in there recent post.... but I thought I would send the background text, which is in light gray tones, running vertically along the edges, behind this is yet another graphic element, but it seems I can only enter one at a time. it also seemed to go with a recent post by Eileen, so I send this as a complement that that wonderful work....
oino puxos
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I was making my way past / new country / worn for pleasure's / in the car, after the hour's glare from Boston to West Falmouth / infancy / thanks for the books / completely paperless / to those few / absolute readership / the hermeneutics of bobas / a DJ to admire / a poet talking about newspaper articles / in the classroom / in the gloom / to our posts / go sleep with escape / Florida, too, was there.
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yesterday, tuesday 10/28/03, I did a visiting writer's gig at The Hospitality House Writers Group, in the San Francisco Tenderloin, run by Yedda Morrison. I have done many of these visiting writer gigs, and what I noticed about this small outpost, miles away from academic circles was a adventuresome spirit in writing and pretty good understanding of writing that is often not found. for the first hour, we talked about my new book iduna from OBooks... they all had some brilliant insightful questions... the kind that kept me on my toes... and there there was a 45 min. open mike..I was the featured reader... all I can say was this experience was wonderful, and though one could credit to all involved since it was such a group event, I think there needs to be a huge acknowledgment of Yedda who has run the writing workshop (I think she said) for the last 3 years and done a wonderful wonderful job..
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big action time / I say they're 'bracelets' but she calls them rings around her wrists. Helix set: nega-watt "x" / one.second :: spiral sequence / Latitude "J" and hello. Freak(when)see :: spilt celestial milk (look south, towards the center.)
don't you cry / mama bayou MOCKingbird w/ diamond eyes :: nest perspective: Alpha L*E*O appROACHing. My construction-paper wristwatch is ready. (I used all of the red.)
set up top o that text-thing, the Mr. Mean Joe Green Jeans channel, ocho after ABC up w/ a box o snack crackers shaped like FISH :: splash FACTor, fission fishin'. (sign hung UP.)
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