laterality
wet with time

five questions
who

is an artist
that does nothing

but perceive
and sift

assembling collections
of his own garbage

when
will the moon fall

from my sight
tonight

provided i do not look
how

could a chimp
trained

to untrain itself
not do this task

where
there are den

of bear
what

bright nonsense



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
delay postponement; postponement delays

why are most polarbears lefthanded?
    most humans are right.
 
we are flawed 
incrementals--
 
    once upon a time upon a bed of moss
        once a grave.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12-18 people
 understand the theory of
  relativity; 12-18 
   people understand
    and profess proficiency 
     enough to play
      the rach 3; that's silly--
       if parallels between 
        the two exist, if any 
         of the twelve to 
          eighteen can do both,
            i'd like to sit, dreaming
             as i heard such things
              explained; no, really--
 
let me say that again
 another way: everything
  exists self-consciously
   alone; the arrowroot 
    cold, yes, and the lock-
     spur; the finest map
      of water known; entang-
       lements of quiddity; yes,
        well, so?-- so this: reap-
         prehension of the mean
          in flame; some minds
           burn clean and all sense
            the breadth and depth
             and innocence of reach.
 
 
unutterable precision
 would not be a gift;
  men are lost, and what
   is man?-- within the same
    realm as selachii, auroras
     and infinite imaginings
      as much as the moon
       light dusts even the rocks
        without moss; metaphorically:
         here is a boat, and a boat
          is not man; islands where
           display is effective; bedrock
            again sand-- that animal
             which waves knowing it does--
 
proof exists in perpetual
 application-- what is string
  that can not be tied; what warmth
   that does not fall; the time
    is the tone of what there is 
     to be felt; all of hope an ocean
      without home; love as intricate
       as starlight which has no fear--
        there is no god but blue above
         a tree that is leaves upon leaves
          against sky; these hemispheres
           of laughter hum before they hit
            to again sing-- my voice
             is of the indelibility of everything.
 

 


 

 


 

 


 

 

It storms. The sky, lit blue and frightening.
The good dog, still dead; skull in a duffel.
Tomorrow's ozoned humidity, tinted with viridity.
Silence bottlenecks and the rain, unstopped.

It storms. The night is high and near and wise.
The electrical hum within the walls, lullabyes.
Tomorrow is an eddy in a dream that resonates:
Resign yourself to fate; fate yourself to life.

Lies. I am a half-drawn sword. My irises rot
with balletic thought upon grapevine and fire.
Justice seems the lucidity of snow and winds
that cello. What do you know, analysed; do you?

With what inertia intellect possesses, I go:
A laser thru morning fog; an epitaph of nonce.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two Too True Stories


Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Bang.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Klein bottle for Moebius strips and souls.

On your left, Irony's Blaacccccccckkkkkkkkkkk
kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
kkkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
ooooooooooooooooooo--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Good: infinity.
 
Evil: eternity.
 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

possum
in the aftermath

pocket washed


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
whirling silver winds
gasping grasp--
 
 
             foxes
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

where do the eyes go?

they go to follow lines 
without arrows, those curved 
continuities of femininity 
disrobed-- they go coolly
upon calf relaxed and upraised
hand and travel nervelessly
over form to wordlessly linger 
as they warm upon function-- 
the cunt and the tit trap
and the world-- it burns
in the paroxysm of orgasm
in its presque vu revelation--
all is known, nothing fact.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the key to great art

add wallpaper


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

genius doesn't steal--
it owns
and then gives away--

the sun is not an eye--
but every ray
lashes out at night--

three butterflies--
each tasteful foot
tasting feet--

black bodilessnesses
and cherubs everywhere--
so life seethes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
sylph, dryad, nymph--
lysph, addyr, phymn--
lisps, adder, femme.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

blue-bedded azure ozone beaded brightly
built of twentyfold layers of translucent
crosshatch strokes--

one strata gold
two strata white

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Apropocalypse
 
 
Everyone is dead or has been
 evacuated, love-- 
We are left in a city of ghosts
 in a cataleptic land
of the cirrus world, love--
 (the soldier toys hum)
Dress now in your mother's dress
 as I wear my father's jacket--
Love, let us climb into their bed--
 (the soldier toys run)
Love, let us tuck ourselves in--
 (the soldier toys come)
Love, let us love-- 
 We are happy without end.
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

anechoic--
choice (na-

oi) chance

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a pun without a chline
 
if not nothing then would be
metaphoristry
             chnine.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
counterclockwork--
  painting daily a new twelfth
  as the fruit rots 
 
hypermutation--
  pine realistically depicted
  then limn warholian
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
knowledge is fractal--
the chaos of these fields
intertwine
 
here is wisdom-- 
you are as saturated
as i; goedelian 
 
fore & backgrounds
thriving, writhe--
hull & thresh
 
strip & sliver
brocade & irradiate--
time is a throat
 
no ledge is actual--
i am a note.
 
 
                  i am a note
         --no ledge is actual
 
           --time is a throat
          brocade & irradiate
               strip & sliver
 
              --hull & thresh
             thriving, writhe
           fore & backgrounds
 
              as i; goedelian
       --you are as saturated
               here is wisdom

                   intertwine  
  --the chaos of these fields
        knowledge is fractal.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

country snigger.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


buddha as a lawn gnome
christ with a crucified erection
a pig called allah
brahma eating diseased cattle
and the three monkeys of no-evil
with YHWH tattoos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as if there are never more storms, or other calms
as if each step is not a thing to pivot upon and draw from
as if a large enough finity, is not itself an infinity

furthermore, we are naked to better devour sensoria
moreover, insignifigance itself poignantly perfumed
what is more, love acknowledges death and supercedes

some of which or all of which or none of which
may be true at any given time in any given weather
or not or partially or indefinitely, perpetually

you would not believe what i truly believe, i think
the stars are beyond my concern but they drive me
to create the terror that is immaculate kindness

and my wings are hands and my blades are eyes
and my tongue is mind and my thought is rain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

born in december and conceived in may
father a drunkard and mother deranged
brother a loser and sisters twice-sane
home a vaccuum and house set aflame
dreams of high ground and work without pay
born in december and conceived in may

married in june and divorced in september
children unnamed and lovers surrendered
dogs are all shot and cats are each wired
trees lose their bark and grasses dew-moire
the sky is a rubric and half-moons retire
married in june and divorced in september

dead at march-end and buried in april
friends but as close as familiarity fickle
melodies of birds over a hiss-roar of drizzle
dinner is dandelion and dessert an old nickel
this fire is starlight and this water bevels
dead at march-end and buried in april

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rising sparks of a dying fire
twist, released by the tongue of a stick
and deflect as glass and smoke, stars
in dry golds of rosemary and rose
as these naked oak river night
and the breath I breathe, the sea.