Monday, February 6, 2017

Forest Lake Waste


o how i beseech thee
tongue tree
you coral pea of layered
and compressing questions like:

is the world's narrowing charybdis
the most countable tahroja
among the correspondylusian hieroglyphs
whose incipient and unnameable jewels listen
and wait

presenting these unreadable signs
to the vaca loca stepmass
the ivory dolls whose clamoring
congyramini of lush plurality
surrounds this impossible evocation
or what at first glance appears
to be a painting of Perseus and Medusa
swapping heads in a grotto choked
with confetti-like coins made
upset and angularly curling
by the terrible and looming magnets
inscribed with the sigils
of caramboling waves held by:

we are powerless:


as were the covert ambassadors
Kang Tai and Zhu Ying
when they gasped in wonder
at the glass canals of Óc Eo
which Amerigo Vespucci
never found

and whose exaggerated or dishonest letters
gave foundation
to the global knowledge
of some dry land laid out to glamor
on some celestial sphere:

the wolf's egg
whose true name might never be
terra incognita:

never trust an italian,
the line is lying for the living,
cause if all i had were antics,
there'd be a putsch of puttis

thresher elizabett erex

close on forty thousand frogs were there
in the dimple of her chin that most ominous
and somber of these mount mehru adjacent
language churning fat-chewing churricles
so to begin with think how anything you see or feel
or fear might be an example of thresher elizabett

erotic error is everywhere
eros like horror is matter itself taking a day off
determination and allowing logic its own emotion
by means of adding insult to injury aka
the blind radiations of complexity
and how they infect the masses

i like to imagine a goddess column
with forty thousand breast frog foams
moving up and down like a penis elevator
between here and the sun
straight to the heart of the sun

you can imagine
a solid golden frog
right in the heart of the sun
saying something like
'liquid gold vagina'
or 'i am the parrot of keening'
it really doesn't matter
none of it matters it's sort of like a chalkbeard
where the wiriting is despiriting
because the sad puff of smoke
you designate spirit
can barely get the pencil moving

it certainly can't draw
it just sort of scribbles around the surface of the earth
fidgeting with the little people
the frogs of the pond

but then again
maybe it's all inside us

maybe the frogs are the universe of possibilities
and the external universe
in the end

is just our big

a poem for harry

if tornado's side
has burst open with fur
i will see you at the slide
in your traditional stripes
the long ribbons of your beard
dragging the earth
everybody knows
the thorns of roses
were once beards
but with their locks
pressed together like rhino horns
dragging along the seine
where Sanxingdui still holds
Vercingetorix surrounded
by Caesar in the holy cowrie
of the solar city
for us they are tobacco-colored stuff
cylinders with tufts of tangled string
at either end

worm zephyrs
while dried they remain alive
and only moisture will restore

what desire enters the cave
and what desire leaves it

if tornado is represented by a perfect cone
a series of perfect cones that stretch and grow
up from the middles of previous cones
then we have to wait on our own specific edge
for the one cone until another touches it
and then our weary wondered
striped bearded and thorny
worm zephyr rose might cross over
to the land of adzes
where the fods
wear no pants but still sing

to conversionings

hi, how are you

here's a souvenir thokcha for you..
it is made of meteor iron
and you can wear it for a mustache
on a face-necklace if you like
or open leather knots with it
as long as you eschew
the gordian option
and choose to wrestle
with life's geometric burdens

The Great Park

I'm sorry Frank
I think you missed it

Queen to Bishop 3
Bishop takes Queen
Knight takes Bishop

Hunters in the snow
the rest of history perhaps
shimmering of a displaced imbroglio
its repast a meager fox

Schirmer under Schadow
and Böcklin to the Isle
who knows what might connect
the nine muses to these downtrodden
hounds Preiddeu Annwfn to
Castellum Puellarum what
blocks of concept moving layered
in a spun rotunda

we might be forced to glare
at one another Frank
but that glare would be translated
into a thing like brotherhood

our cold thinktanks together
on the march to descend
into a fictional yet symbolic
cup of grey and enlightened contrasts

the nonesuch winter of our symbolic hunter
our negation of the future
with this free-swimming
and sexual form of a coelenterate
pheaseant-less and heading home

the stark boredom of our desires
the arch scintilla of the floor
speaking a language of wonder
we no longer ignore
we no longer hear it at all

I'm sorry Frank
I think you missed it
Hunters in the snow
Mars in December
The Winter of 1564
pawn takes goddess
eschatological precipice
pace looping (cusp)

Sorry about this (adoration)
I know it's a bit silly
Just a moment...
Just a moment...
rotunda puzzle collapse
shimmering of a displaced imbroglio
its repast a meager fox

the jester
eats its own fox
then washes it down
with gambling
and indigestion
I'm sorry Frank
I think you missed it

what in this form is wrong
what is right
screens go dark

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Rillet Bruit

a tree pokes out
from ancient chimney
and all round in the empty air
birds (untranslatable)

said zerzan to derrida
tao phaedra jump rope herr kommissar
said derrida to zerzan
if spartacus is not paul de man
what then is all this n-différance

these gergovian ovals
ogling coy ogres
this saccorhytus
in lieu of coronarius
goal goal goal!

empery inkirlie
empery inkirlie
the white robe lined in red

o quhar
throw the castell
o quhar
fold the hose
o quhar said cawdor
on the high-low ground

The Smile

in the deep land of te-henua-fenua
i tried to die
leading asterisks to arsonyx
carving coconuts
and soft pink skulls for children
watching dogs toss crabs along the ocean's
and patenting morphine
along her shiny molten leprous hair limbs
i put dancing girls in the newspaper
for eternity
a great crime i am told
by the old peruvian painter
Darius Puama'u Pareja
heave of loa
or sewer rear
no rile its total triple 7
this lame itch they say
has lived for seven hundred
and seventy seven years
but it was not happy much
after six hundred
and sixty six for it seems
it had forgotten how to smile

and show those
rotten grey skull teeth again
those sick and suppurating legs
those green
and luminous
pyramidiacal bait houses

where the orderly traffic of strange
and transcendental insects
converges and diverges
on the great and living topiary pyramid

the hanging topiary chad strollery
the garden labyrinth pyramid

whose penultimate and deformed
tiki apex is


o viri loa
i tried to smile
i tried to surf on crocodiles
down blue grass hills
into secret grottos
where wordless wonders
still reigned


the dew venom's noose
in case summer thinks
oh oh
what a long noose

Where Do We Come From?
What Are We?
Where Are We Going?

that in a deep and shrouded blue wood
you discover
quite by accident
an orgy of twisted and crimson fungal fauns
exploding glossy mysterious
with yellow pollen
as if the text and the sacrifice
had slip knot twins
for shinny

a souvenir

Silva Loa and Silver Loaches

the dirty locks
plug the trumpet
and the wild caliph
is the mute sweet snail
of leopard gale

the gaol of the sea is pearl'd
and the earth is a prism
of dream flesh

gad what
transparent pyramid plaza
opens to trugaha
when trugaha
with vine abandon Bignonia
goeth sor juana

goeth goetry
the dirty unlockings
unplug the trumpet

or say that the dancing place
had once covered over
the place where our name was buried
and who lived with snakes and worms
sitting for awhile underground
then dying
then coming back for awhile
to sing with the snakes
then sticking its head out
through the dancing pavement
then falling back in
for 12 years
then coming out again
to describe the electric snake

which like a spring
was the knowledge that the atom
is its own mind
and that narratology

is both the blind angel
and vivid demon
come together

in a fruitless

in a coma-like pleasure
some call treasure
and others

like the thorny head
as heaved in bushels
to nowhere

Dead to tenebra wiktionary

(after J.D. Nelson's TARK)

download a child
with a line of duty
Hoon am
because as i feel this forum badly
this habit seems to me you
very badly
Index of dialect category "Pea".
For example, there are terms such as
Piashi, Papa, Priapus, Pasha, Piano

punitive punditry sinembatgo

Asta Hatta, Quechua?
but on the other hand
is a masque
a false face, a dead face
Tok Pisin say maski maski
mas que
tagalot although (maski)
kima kima kuma kwan
because because because (and then)
i wanna
The borrowed items are used to link segments
of discourse of various sizes
pragmatic detachability
semantic scale
and category sensitive scale

and transfur of fabric
for what is the end result

a thing that stands upright
or sits, walgs some
loogs at worgs

but does not builg spage cigies
or regair the egosystem
zlatá blázon-prorok,
what is sun fetish mustard?

o fey its tard goal'd stoma-ach gate
let them seelpen in gem crusts
drifting in long worm skins
out into eternity
to wex whatairu-rurn
they mu fine

o pharaoni gelatin woman
you are no two people

but one haggard maski
hung on a pole
in a coralbridge

waxa ay qaadataa wax
mae'n cymryd pethau
inachukua mambo

capit omnia
kaput omnia

kaput har monia, moţasoţa?

it eats well
but doesn't see much
when it looks at the sky




toward its reckoning
the scyphum calvariae
with its funny ears and
shallow wavering pun tunnels
running up along its surface
pāhoehoe-like poet-like
a pair of grins or flowering garrigues
staring out of the dark
like the eyes of an animal
as if it were a dog
who liked dried worms
whose systems of declination
like the battle of the sabis
appeared to be an ornamental stone fist
in which a tiny and slender snake
had made its home
varro atacinus
as a haircut cap hovering to the alps

its subject or jouxter
tectosage or dulcet
the inconceivable rhymelessnesses
of monstre triomphe
mallarme's long gaulish mustache
attacking its own pāhoehoe

the fruit of an adolescence
is true crime head-hunting
invia twice
as mad map and headache goats
or cutthroat

a swan roosting
on an enormous and slender wheel
of all the felled peoples
who liked dried worms
to snake through their villages
like paths or hedgerows

the potato-dog lane
so quiet now
what great collective woman is now
atlantis to druids
its trash pressed into platonic solids
which followed the declination line
to the hour angle
across the body
of the celestial worm
to become the planet mercury
the melted platinum wings

in the terminations

its subject

moving back and forth
like the single extant line
levis unda saporis
it will not glow
the final jug heads

take samples of its worm
since you will not eat it whole
dignitas haecceitas
freud in a can

From Bukhara to Burke and Hare

William Burke and William Hare

William Burke was born in 1792 in Urney, County Tyrone, Ulster, one of two sons to middle-class parents.[18] Burke, along with his brother, Constantine, had a comfortable upbringing, and both joined the army as teenagers. Burke served in the Donegal Militia, until he met and married a woman from County Mayo, where they later settled. The marriage was short-lived; in 1818, after an argument with his father-in-law over land ownership, Burke deserted his wife and family. He moved to Scotland and became a labourer, working on the Union Canal.[19] He settled in the small village of Maddiston near Falkirk, and set up home with Helen McDougal, whom he affectionately nicknamed Nelly; she became his second wife.[20] After a few years, and when the works on the canal were finished, the couple moved to Tanners Close, Edinburgh, in November 1827.[21] They became hawkers, selling second-hand clothes to impoverished locals. Burke then became a cobbler, a trade in which he experienced some success, earning upwards of £1 a week. He became known locally as an industrious and good-humoured man who often entertained his clients by singing and dancing to them on their doorsteps while plying his trade. Although raised as a Roman Catholic, Burke became a regular worshiper at Presbyterian religious meetings held in Grassmarket; he was seldom seen without a bible.[20]

William Hare was probably born in County Armagh, County Londonderry or in Newry. His age and year of birth are unknown; when arrested in 1828 he gave his age as 21, but one source states that he was born between 1792 and 1804.[18][22] Information on his earlier life is scant, although it is possible that he worked in Ireland as an agricultural labourer before travelling to Britain. He worked on the Union Canal for seven years before moving to Edinburgh in the mid-1820s, where he worked as a coal man's assistant.[18][22] He lodged at Tanner's Close, in the house of a man named Logue and his wife, Margaret Laird, in the nearby West Port area of the town. When Logue died in 1826, Hare may have married Margaret.[a] Based on contemporary accounts, Brian Bailey in his history of the murders describes Hare as "illiterate and uncouth—a lean, quarrelsome, violent and amoral character with the scars from old wounds about his head and brow".[2] Bailey describes Margaret, who was also an Irish immigrant, as a hard-featured and debauched virago".[23]

In 1827 Burke and McDougal went to Penicuik in Midlothian to work on the harvest, where they met Hare. The men became friends; when Burke and McDougal returned to Edinburgh, they moved into Hare's Tanner's Close lodging house where the two couples soon acquired a reputation for hard drinking and boisterous behaviour.[18]

The Pen Not the Sword

Grizel maintained
that Weir derived his power
from his walking stick,
topped by a carved human head,
giving rise to later accounts
that it had often been seen
parading down the street
in front of him.


 is a stiff cloth, made of cotton, and still occasionally linen, which is used to cover and protect books. Buckram can also be used to stiffen clothes. Modern buckrams have been stiffened by soaking in a substance, usually now pyroxylin, to fill the gaps between the fibres.[1]
In the Middle Ages, "bokeram" was fine cotton cloth, not stiff. The etymology of the term is uncertain; the commonly mentioned derivation from Bokhara[2] is, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, uncertain.

Millinery buckram is different from bookbinding buckram. It is impregnated with a starch, which allows it to be softened in water, pulled over a hat block, and left to dry into a hard shape. White buckram is most commonly used in hatmaking, though black is available as well. Millinery buckram comes in three weights: baby buckram (often used for children's and dolls' hats), single-ply buckram, and double buckram (also known as "theatrical crown").[citation needed]

between Bukhara and Book

termites discovered in the garage area

whichies scuzz or base
themthot well
nor even well they staid
as in the 7th letter of Plato
no ham
no neo-tylorian interfaces
with peltasts
but hot stoking rod theremins could
if they come fore as bayonnet like
shrilke the hold gemnian facile act
Rene Girard could lead a choir like
Hermann Nitsch over this harsh
predatory vagina-faced bull
its claws-fingers mandible extensions
suddenly backwards
to mask your plexing
nasty or knotsy
don't give birth to anymore of them
by stones he ment to plaid
o what an earth it's all people
and they eat animals and build machines
no matter what they believe
ten times ten times ten times eight hundred
thousand could be reduced
here living in this garden still
under an overhang
rain and centipede magnet ghosts
come manipulating the mirror dream
so i jump off the roof
while dionysus' name
has become associated firstly
with an argument over property
properties are dull as a thud
but it doesn't mean
that the meanest sod
or low drinker of wine in a gutter
isn't made of gods

every atom is a god
and every part of the atom
a goddess or vice versa

words are lame
and edible

it's silly
the soldiers finally got their pay
by simply threatening their leader
with violence

a leader is just a cuspidor
and a world
is just a question

just how many sorrows is
a countless sorrow


The Decline of Western Civilization

in the cult of the clouds
so it seems
i seem to see floating past again
barbara carl linneus quigley
lately of smalland and living dead contours
and in the same way that Matango
retells the story of Oliver Onions'
I feel that the wreck of the medusa
reveals our moment of the anti-faust
as the pilot frankenstein
from deathrace 2000
in the cult of the clouds
you see things in the clouds
and then you make a cult about
by telling stories
made up out of the shapes
which your brain is able to identify

2017-1984 = 33

The number of deities in the Vedic Religion is 33. The divine name Elohim appears 33 times in the story of creation in the opening chapters of Genesis. Lag Ba'omer is a minor Jewish holiday which falls on the 33rd day of the Omer Jesus' age when he was crucified in 33 A.D. According to Al-Ghazali the dwellers of Heaven will exist eternally in a state of being age 33. Islamic prayer beads are generally arranged in sets of 33, corresponding to the widespread use of this number in dhikr rituals. Such beads may number thirty-three in total or three distinct sets of thirty-three for a total of ninety-nine, corresponding to the names of God. 33 is not only a numerical representation of "the Star of David," but also the numerical equivalent of AMEN: 1+13+5+14=33. Pope John Paul I, the 33-day pope. One of the shortest reigns in papal history, and it resulted in the most recent 3-pope year. A religious image of the Virgin Mary from the 18th century is known in Uruguay as "Virgen de los Treinta y Tres" (Virgin of the Thirty-Three); it was consecrated by Pope John Paul II in his visit to Uruguay in 1988. There are several churches dedicated to this Marian devotion, being the most important the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of the Thirty-Three in Florida, Uruguay. There are 33 degrees in Scottish Rite Freemasonry The House of the Temple, Home of The Supreme Council, 33°, Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry in Washington D.C., USA has 33 outer columns which are each 33 feet high. The Yakuoji Temple in Japan has a two sets of steps, one with 42 steps for men to climb, and the other side with 33 steps for the women. The Saigoku Kannon Pilgrimage visits thirty-three Buddhist temples throughout the Kansai region of Japan.

zombies eat brains
but cloud zombies
make up stories
that eat brains
and that lead
to the decline
of western civilisation

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Words Concluded Before the Flame of Unity's Demise

anschir of affect
mysterious earth
say what it is
that what it is
is burning

say that no dog's head
or that no head of a human
is the head of the human state
that cannot be
cannot be burning
is burning

which by their need
doth know
knows nothing by the scent
for the scent
neither ascent nor descent
is burning

and signal this
with enormous tapir
the war tapir monument
on whose back
lives the sprawling marble
abstract parthenon saddle balcony
which is not
is burning

and within the undersea tomb
of robert louis stevenson
who is kept in an upright
blue glass bottle sarcophagus
on the mahogany table of the lounge
its top hat stopper jaunted
or cocked
and also within the window of the tomb
which looks out into the sea
see the three perilous monkeys
no see no say no hear
which look out over
the stone typewriter

power is burning

the stone typewriter
which as a graverobber
took prostitutes
from the very page
and placed their earth
their mysterious earth
to anschir
and to burning

for Doctor Jekyll
and Mister Hyde
were investigated
by a lawyer

so that Lacan might
be able to speak
of natural law
and human law
burning together
as a story
as a synthesis
of the foundation
before language
is chemistry

the living story
as told from beneath the sea
whatever it was
an airtight tomb
where an anschir
was never burning

and that the strange case
in all its words and deeds
both succeeded and failed
and that all of life succeeded and failed
just as it lived and died

caste foreward
warded to caste

and that the anschir
was a mystery
written only
only written

before it comes to that
by any measure
by any measure of what one story
or one planet
is burning

as if the brain were a sponge
held up over an obelisk
and squeezed out
into nothing

and then laid down
to dry
the brazier

said suddenly sad (tripod)

mine tripod is eye queues
and ghoti

caress my weak tripod
to reap the empowered foot
my dear wry prey

we woo the tripod
and caress the weak
and stuttering menu

of a foot
that's washed with tears
and terebinth

for atrugetoio

squeeze the rag
and queue the eyes
and quiet the deep

the sentence of history is a word
spelling endorgenesis

or a hollow terracotta torso
where snakes
lift dora puro
from the chasms of the arm-holes

welcome home ugly

o great ugly
behold the great festoon
of hideous i have laid for you
does it please you
now when at last your debased
and horrible visage
is come over all the land
to welcome you home
it is your bone dark one
the gnawing hordes have risen in joy
to seek your hideous praise
great and fearsome ugly
you are home
in the free and despicable deeps
release the dogs of war
and let it burn
let ugliness reign

because truth
is a horror
which cannot be hidden
welcome home ugly

it's as if you never left

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

ode on the tablets of the law

shave these shaggy tablets
these stone tablets grow hair
but they do not need it anymore
that hair goes nowhere man
in particular
maybe it goes down a drain
maybe it reroots
in somebody else's brain
that hair is everywhere man
shave it now
shave ye this tablet or dispair
ye gods there's tablet hair everywhere
it looms like a wave up over the sky
its comes shooting at lightspeed
from everyones' eyes
hair o copious language of growth
but is it alive or dead
what is this long curly black hair
doing living in my bread
here is its living room
and here is its bed
here is its kitchen
and here is its sled?
and all of it all of it
inside my bread
i've never seen such a civilized hair
it surely didn't come
from my head

a flower person will indeed see flowers

if a certain mirror is also a flower
a reflected she objects
to images of independent models
for instance Is
this color gives conversation
by the canvas of its canvas dream denuded
by the folds which after the flowering
of the imaginary within the image resumes
on a conversation of eaten mixtures
these films mix diffuse realities in voices
and return as jerky wigs / the one
the one as glasses the one as its own young
as the only camera / chimera or in the way
that the beauty of music is created by foreign images
one for a boasting wine and one for a dream
of a universe not spilt in split dreams the one
there are always bored views which are more
than the jewelry the one hears
providing that musical glasses create
a kaleidoscopic violence a she
who monopolizes the animation of the body
which sees flowers
spying on their world of sweets
as the videographer of the one
or the never-one which like a mannequin
is not what a substitute mode of desire
smiles at while it retains its motion
its nails made of decomposed
and vulgar toothpaste made of men posing
waiting for real caressing which needs indifference
or face to face brings back a preoccupied girl's
anguishing over the beautiful or pauses within reality
occupy the kaleidoscope and occupy the body
of the soon-to-dream dreams which as various dancing
dancers remains the one
an image which objects hard
to a certain jerky split
a fantasmatic nail resume'
performed by a fashion image
made only with toothpaste which
the violent universe reflects
as a mannequin of bored movement
which becomes a wig pattern
waiting for more spy movies or she
so that while the camera slowly pans
up and down her body
the background dispute
becomes more violent
more bored

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

yorggz are totally gao for ozbiemme

forking eggs may not illustrate
the most complete vision of all that
might be implied by the word chaos

chaos can be a messy bedroom
or the filamental pseudo-structures
half glimpsed in the galactic meat of space
by successive layers of astronomer

but calling it the garden of forking pads
does lend a beatnik touch

the same way
a dog wearing a tophat
and setting down a bright green turd
on the shimmering surface
of the yellow brick road might
cause Dorothy to suddenly exclaim

terra rasa are totally tabula firma
for ibidem toto

Logic and Leisure

ogres eat osiris
as le corbusier
falls ever deeper
into the enormous
concrete earth shaft

his pyramid
swimsuit parachute
never an easy bridge
to the alcohol
and pervitin
of the kampfzeit follies

your mouth
is an infinitely soft
set of cushions

and naiads come there
bringing small effigies of clover
or dioramas of clover ogres
eating dandelion osirises

le corbusier may be lost
the velocity is increasing
the shaft is smooth
and grey

narratology is for dandelions

one almost feels
as if the wind he feels
is good for him
his concrete dandelion head

but the whole fish
and even the geometry
of celtic dwarves

of their cosmos
is a drug

of terror mixed with frailty
then armed
with confusion
against doubt

sing faster
or just
fall forever

your rapt mouth
alone in the darkness
contingency is a weird lover
for every species

there's no one to hear you scream
maybe bat-monkeys
eat you as you fall

maybe transparent things
catch you
with their jelly faces

General Issues Concerning the Struggles of Magicians

this blue crab feast is expanding
engulfing all
the dream of progress
like a small handkerchief
is tied round the arm
of a homeless market boy
running wildly
the mustache of its knot
never golden not even once
who is followed surreptitiously
by the woman called Shenub
a strange dancer who has seen
the breakfast of the world
three spinning rings
and a dinosaur used as a symbol
for something even more obscure
the schoolhouse is closed
and the teahouse
is hung with jaws
red in the glass red lamps of gumbs
in the glass red veins of lamp-gumbs
we red the crabs
the blue feast of the red crabs is
a ballerina called Shenub
who has no earlobes
her family name is Ourbare'
she lives in active treason against hate
but is consumed by it as color
some optical splitters know this
the radical construction of concrete
and irremediable reality
like the genius of failure
progress does not come to handkerchiefs
for mind is a kind of agent
or spirit or page or lamp
of skin under chuddah-crab
of / oourfve / of confusion
so ancient that its face is worn
and alien
but smooth
people ignore it in the market
it muffles a sour parakeet

psyclome sylvex

ticks scry to lambs
who wrote this as Vitus
who probes with this
let us all dance before a statue

let us all
let us all dance
let us all dance before a statue

that moves like a whirlwind
with angelic demonic mirth
(a short grammar)

ticks scry to lambs
a broad proscenium brims
with kites you made
covered in eyes

real cellular eyes
you call vitusaizvess
but as you dance you
mispronounce it

your throat loins jistling
you instead say

pseekompf silvax
runnajar psilvaku
irr voluda
kod voluda paliktikai
who wrote this as Psyclome
who probes with this

let us all tick before a nervous effigy
o lugg sonu
o lewg raff
the lementary sonu aft
or before

navigating the airy voluptis
ramen roofs love iguana corn
that moves like a whirlwind statue
(a short Latgalian)

a vain gel of gems
a surd of narrmist

a poor meat
of severed cures
dancing toward
the airy statue

maxjud nos von hull

o sinnaku

where winged centaur archers go
where robes of locust are displayed
in green smoke curtains

over the bay
of writhing limbs

o o

clink von troma dull

you you you
when you
you you you
when you


o grinwakua coma cum lagos
dum finnasta qua

o archer of flaming squirrel skull debakle'
lift high your shaft to skogmall or skyskull

flaming beard winged centaur archer locust drone sign
of cylinder synthesizer beast

o greet me
colossal lithop toe idol
you lingam in the dell
you arent van bolten mecha yoni illustrator


jek krill hide of hyena scorpion shrimp
shrieking of madwomen at delphi

o spharagmos
of victim king
before the tele-ordure

of nomance

o nomanx
of glaceless mang of nomang comm trauma

wheat oracle!
wheat gleeting sole foot crimson dipped

foot quill dragging oedipal
in your flute minotaur races'
paper coracle



o pearly shell mask
with no eyes with no mouth

how your hair vomits
as sun rays
of ululations

o diogenes idol
sitting alone
in the niche of a prostiture

o glib recondite explosives
hanging like tasssels frum eery singy forms
made lipid airy

are you of the lipid people?
are you of lapid grisles?

have you seen densely alluring grilles of meat
over raging cornucopions of orange

have you seen
the mandala grille 2000?

o fabio
my klingdome
for a paper hat boat


Student Jane jobs as an assistant
for the animal researcher Phillip
in a lonesome old house.

They live alone except for the
chimpanzees and butler Link:
a 45 years old very intelligent orangutan.

Phillip wants to put Link to death.
However before he can do this
he's vanished tracelessly one morning.

Link starts behaving more and
more aggressive and prohibits Jane
from using the phone or reaching the next village.

When she punishes him by locking
him out, he becomes violent.
You Jane, Me Link, that kind of thing.

Link it seems had remembered a former life
wherein the ancient city of Atlantis
was populated solely by orangutans.

So Link was their King like Nero,
and he played the double seahore lyre
as the wondrous city sank beneath the waves.

8 Questions I Ask Myself Every Day

1. Have you thought about Chris Burden today?
2. Have you thought about Christopher Lee's burden?
3. What is this crystal burden birthing?
4. When I cry and then become still, which is the burr in the din?
5. Have you thought about Chris Burden's burden today?
6. Do you think Iconism has a plan for your life?
7. What would Chris Burden do?
8. How many films did Christopher Lee yurodivy?
9. Yurodivy yurodivy yurodivy yurodivy euro-diver Etruscan?
10. Scuba pan? Major 5ths of Scuba Pan?
11. O how did you unearth the otherworldly burthen of turducken?

The Opening of the W.C. Field

Robert Alfred Edward
North Whitehead Duncan
"may not neglect the
multifariousness of the world-
the boot-wearing fairies
slam-dance, and this eighty-eyed
spider-dolphin headed jesus
gets nailed to a volkswagon
sunwheel cross-hair"
towards fullness, the beautiful
profusion takes me.
avalanche, AVALANCHE,
TAOCHI (tyche) Bra-hoo (Brujo)
take me with you in your slide

for my surfboard
is of space-grade-carbon-enhanced
ceramic polymer mesh
and my feet are shorn
in ssslalomeander skin

o ko-koochi tao
tao-tie moonstro
your youth is sad
and your future dark
but let the love sing out of you
on your pipe-organ of mad matter
and become

The Abominable Dr. Mojo Phibes'
150th sequel
with a soundtrack by
Professor Longhair accompanied
by the wild children's satyr orchestra
of pan-pipes
at the gates of dawn..

work makes free
wok makes foo
fang it up!
put on your fanged up
sky-city gown
and chin-wheels
Harry Partch appeared to me in a dream this afternoon as the old Eritrean woman who works as the parking / cashier attendant at my dentist:

"They think they've seen angels..."

and then she laughed.. (and I laughed too)
I was old and naked and sitting inside a clear glass car with a sleeping rabbit for a motor..

at peace for the mythic remains

if it is no place to be sound
then below the tormented
ragged skies
lies the fallen body of strange Icarus
now covered in long fine erect pink hairs
the eyes tricked out in anemone
luminous in the vast shadow
of a black and pregnant cloud
made more holy
by its absolute ambiguity
its mindless and righteous indignation
toward none of those
that seek to offer it
their own definition

and its fossicked opalescent wings
are rigid as they pierce the ground
extending down into the soil
engendering abstract structures
that intensely placid blastomal wyrms
conceive of as music or architecture
considering those smooth textures found
as a nourishment
to their senses their sensibilities
all around with the inside out
of geometry's collection

but the blood is still red
in the yellow sun
and the blood is still yellow
in the crimson wheel

and the pink furred remains
are the mediolanon
of a single
monadic poem:

its icon victim
and triumphant
sore in the ground
of irony

pax pocked
with the indifferent
and lapidary luxuries
of rhapsody:

run rune ruin rue
roux row
argument goo
integumentum carnalia

a toy house
with glaucus thatch
or tecne'
as an ember in the yolk

an amber yoke
where the cast remain invisible


IRAKLIA columns
alleles katantikry century
IRAKLIA columns and
apechousin alleles voyage days
kλidaλ kofuλk qiraλ qelλk bilλ wcbaqẽnt
or clad in down leaves

And the Isle herein was persuaded
by two ice Gadeira names
in Sicily's triangular colon
that cities eisin vulva
in the Heraklion Metapontis
fried with its thorn exposed

These or another city which has
some apechousan day voyage from Hercules
or hyponemetron in dry clipped tongues
ibśimsis artimuk kulumsis aaraλ biraλk
albino hedgehog helmet
their whore priestess had been freeze-dried
laughing at you
Maionian Homer

and from that Hercules
of THL MASSEvropii Marketing
come so many

Carthaginians of Marketing
and clay
and tides
and seas
my purple whorl-nugs
aktin nãqis qelλk fẽnsλifid fakmλ artimuś
despite Lapygians going on day and on night
Ionian Gulf mouth

Paraplous four days
and nights four
and from Hercules to
or instead of this country
a Pasha fit for ports
and its Elpinoros memory
Esti Latins with gratuity expected
laqirisaν bukit kud ist esλ wãnaλ bλtarwo[d]
Sometimes different alleles can result
in different observable phenotypic traits
such as different pigmentation
HI trade name
Alikarna Molykreia;

and the Delphic bay;
mouth, those of vaginal foci stages
and later this sacred Nafpaktos city

what if strange lines
ran all about connecting everything
in a dense and maddening mesh
a hyperglossoneme
by Rhône echontai Ligyes
gives up instead
MEN barbarians
and Enginerring Cape not
some Sicilian groaned
between the rivers Krathio and Sybaris
near the city of Thouria city
bat comets

In the taftii THL country's citizens
Estin ellinios will Massilia and port
esλ mruλ buk esλ wãnaλ buk esνaν
like a colon of each part of the hobos
came in neven stages and after [͵af'.]
as "Epaneimi not again on the continent"
hence exetrapomin, by Gar Reggio
O Theognis Megara-Shara

These colonies Marseille eisi
and Tafroeis and Olbia will Paraplous
d'Esti unto this from
the Rhone River to Addis
amid toi ploi toutoi universal
bλtarwod akad manelid kumlilid silukalid akit n[ãqis]
HI Odyssey

Name soot, and others Many
desert island Sardis
and from Kyrnou island in Sardis
in unnison Wealth Tuesday party
laqrisak qelak kudkit ist esλ wãn[aλ]
Celtic Venetian sigh
stomping rubber tire carvings
Associate to the city during rivers as stages

And Isle toi desert in between
from Sardis jointly Livyin
wealth day and night
unto Sikelian from Sardis
Wealth two day and night
Epaneimi not again
on the continent
hence in Kyrnon

[o]raλ islλ bakillλ est
mrud eśśk [wãnaś]
smokey horse or turtle shapes
change as you move inside
the mesh

coining apertures

Don Quixote, The Purely Modernist Woe Man

Ogmios under name river
herl ee hur lea early
and the peripatetic picaresque
is not transcendent
but more like the myth of a sad hobo
getting into trouble
finding wonder
among the valleys
whereas wonder
looks among the microscope people
for banners of its thet thers

wilt it in a thet ther
or lithe it to a glowbe

molecular reality obeys a syntax
you've got to at least understand that
if nothing else

can turn a round fort
to various weathers

its beyond sad
it's a heavenly antic

Ce discours est bien grotesque

Johann Baptist Fischart
scribbling diligently in his


was the first person it is said
to have used the word grotesque
as an adjective

it was used it would seem to describe
a monstrous fusion
of human and non-human elements

he writes:
strange, peculiar, grottogrotesque, fantastic jars,
chests, and boxes which can now be seen
in our pharmacies

Fischart finds a negativity in this unruly monstrosity
calling it silly, frightful, and ridiculous
but his work, the


is still considered
the Finnegan's Wake
of the 16th century

Writing itself is the grotesque exemplar
par excellence
the original cyborg
the human mind conjoined with line
chopped twisted and knotted
into symbols of sound and meaning

Montaigne called his own essays
'grotesque and monstrous bodies,
pieced together of the most diverse members,
without distinct form, in which order and proportion
are left to chance.'

Now in the long after
there is a more cryptic
political sense
to ornamentality

how do we actively engage
our own

pelt and cure by the foam inlet

oval window prynne
are dexsuo teuto dheas
where heraklean way
like gozzi to overlay shakespeare
seems to abuse it
a limited humanism
and a reduced perception
the love for three oranges
as you like it
oneiric instead
hannibal standing
in the saddle of matrona
a wolf's fur
for midsummer student


repeating the same phrase
over and over
in the twining briars of her senses
or keep the dog tar hence
that's friend to man
or with his nails
he'll dig it up again
deaf in the radiant green
of a strangely pathetic poignancy
that we are missing the clue
a Hellebore arising from the drifts
of snow
a clear transparent medium
through which two pigeons pass
under a bridge
that informal revelation
which is scarcely reduced

are you very afraid to be unique?

snowflakes of glass
are embedded with iron veins
and they hover
because of supercooled magnets
you can see inside the planet
bright orange hairless genderless athletes
live in the deep magma core
with magnet horns that shoot magma
i ride snowflakes everywhere
in the high stratosphere
feathered flying land eels can make a home
in a huge bronze hollow horse head
without your having to like
the Godfather very much
if you never knew what it meant
to be unique you might not ever have
never gotten here right now forever
so like is it really pop culture
or is it like a nacred trident
balanced on a single peg
at a very slight obtuse angle
high high up
on a bare wall
it's like holding your breath
while you are sleeping
and which causes you somehow
to become the wizard of oz
with amnesia
inside an emerald building
a mile high
that moves and rustles
like a cape
it could be anything you wanted
it could be a wood prison
floating on an ocean
of fleas
with a leak

Algebraic (Volume) Density Properties for Affine Homogeneous Spaces

it would not be
in anyway untrue
to say that Nikolai
Aleksandrovich Notovich
had walked for some time
through the twisting
and poetic world

in Skardu he saw a raven
with a large green olive in its beak

'carrying' he would say aloud
as he tramped

'carrying a stony meteor' he would think
as he lay by his tramping campfire that night

in Mogao he met an old woman
an umbrella maker whose blind daughter
took him to visit the caves

she showed him the whistling wall
where the natural erosion of the stone
had made a natural flute
when the wind blew just right

in the dusty library cave he took a document
(all gold is cold in the earth, all silver a lassitude)
then took the blind girl to a market
to buy her fruit and flowers and tea
for her mother

in Ladakh he found a stone
so smooth it made him cry

'pashm and charas to the babes'
said Shulim aloud
Shulim is what Nikolai's mother called him

in a dream in a blanket on the ground
just outside of Shey, in Leh, in Ladakh
Shulim met François Bernier who was
sitting at a table
playing some kind of card game
with Lhachen Palgyigon
an old King of Ladakh

'there is a strange relationality
between unmotivated poetic
connections and the natural
semi-arbitrary relations
between signs and signifiers'
said François in the dream of Shulim
in a poem about
Algebraic (Volume) Density Properties
for Affine


"Palmer," quoth he, "death is an equal doom
To good and bad, the common inn of rest ;'"

from Dryden, who seems to paraphrase Spenser —

'Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend ;
The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.'

Archbishop Leighton takes this view with much
serenity, as we all may ; his expression is, ' Were I
to choose a place to die in, it should be an inn. It
looks like a pilgrim going home, to whom the world
was all an inn, who was weary of the noise and
confusion of it' He had his desire, ending his days
at an inn. Quarles, in the Divine Fancies} tells us
quaintly —

' Our life is nothing but a winter's day,
Some only break their fast, and so away ;
Others stay dinner and depart full fed ;
The deepest age but sups and goes to bed ;
He's most in debt who lingers out the day, —
Who dies betimes, has less and less to pay.'

This implies that, as to the world, we are well rid of it

a bad world, a bad world, my masters. But our old
Methodist Atherton in my hearing gave us, from his
pulpit in Southwark, the truth as to this. 'A bad
world ! not so, a good, a very good world, I say. The
world is good, but the rascals who live in it are bad ; not
the world, not the world !'

We need not, however, trouble ourselves with this
phase of divinest melancholy ; we shall see the inn as a
place of busy resort, its guests thinking much of living,
of social enjoyment and business, and very little indeed

1 Edition 1678, p. 121.


of dying. We pass sentiment and come as nearly as we
can to daily life in these houses of entertainment, with
special reference to Southwark, or, as it is often called,
the Borough, so peculiarly the place of old English inns.
Harrison,^ in 1577, might be thinking of Southwark
when he says, ' Those towns that we call thoroughfares
have great and sumptuous inns for such travellers and
strangers as pass to and fro ;' and then he tells us about
them. 'The manner of harbouring^ is not,' he says,
' like to that of some other countries, in which the host
or goodman dooth chalenge a lordlie authoritie ouer his
ghests. . . . Here in England everie man may use his inne
as his owne house, and have for his monie how great or
little variety of victuals, and what other seruice himself
shall thinke expedient to call for. . . .

Kohl-Rimmed Glasses

there is a change
and i am poor
a retrograde flourishes
where an eclipse once stood
but small romances ensue

what sort of argument can one bring
against clean laundry
and a clean body to insert therein
and a quiet tree-lined street
in which to perambulate

and while the moon still sings
upon its head spike
and the castanets still chatter
television will remain
an old bald heron

a minotaur
to a purple orange
alone in a small glass
severed hand
in the Queen's Head

polybius en grolier

why turtle clock water, magnet
why zeno death-laughter, figs
in water-hand delphic-mirrors persist
let your hand symbol icon undus gestorem
for fates persist (consist) and Perseus
ungulf grolier before the shield mirror
of medusa's binding- some, there are sum~
treasuries in lieu of scriptoriums
amicorum in lieu of plaquettes of regret
on the style of mood confused with nature
or of people (io, et io, et, io et, pico)
so we choose a model japonais to err in
geometrical strapwork designs or
with fleurons at the corners of the central panel
developed in the later bindings into elaborate
curvilinear interlacings combined with arabesques
*******tsdeng((((((faaaw--duwan [concept-force]
Polybius is important for his analysis of the mixed
constitution // or the separation of powers in government
which was influential on Montesquieu's
The Spirit of the Laws and the framers
of the United States Constitution ----------(georlduul((*
************A fire in the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés
removed an ancient library in a puff of smoke
in 1794. In his youth, Polybius was a high-culture hostage
because of the political beliefs of his father, and later
a renowned historian who was also a military advisor
that was present and involved in the Numantine wars.
For twenty years the Romans fought to quell
Celtiberian peoples along the Ebro river. nchu{UUU ufa
what is growlier, grolier than fate's contour?
What is a historian who also shapes history?
Are you really my friend, or are you
on your own journey to Mirandola
to cloister with Manutius in the arms
of the Pico...

Polybius (or poly-biasis)?
Absinthe reindeer toy.

the gruesome dove

it was moved so that
it was changed to tell
it had come to pass
some form ode-supple
to the knotting nothing
and its lesser and greater children

strein goman reaume
milnes spary crothers
tutty sturk bilden fluter
rudish capling dearling
breth oag kelter younker
lenger enns ruttle mowat
whetter seidlitz baken
styan moote beechy mochel
shiplet laplaca valure buchner
sellen trudgeon bavin schlich
tocher spille stower hewer
cordiner schmaltz green
selago smoke and music gone
our carnyx is hoary

but the cloud ferment chamber is intact
it is the shoulder
its crust cave of high blue cloud is roundly
displaying fog sunk mountains thru the chest
whose emptiness more freel than tool

fool well hole (a commaund)
and the head some narrowly frequented blue
and smoth like clay
and arising in a higher place
surrounded by even more blue curtains
but the face is turned away in shame
for belowe the waste
is a wasting place
such that words end
and gathers open

let us symbolize this mad fire
with a tibetan peach house
of smooth orange bricks
put up into a dome
and let there be one lonesome bridge
over highest sky
to get there down below

plateaus are blades
and the air of geological poetry
curls off like flint
in a meteorological crystal

solstice is come
to your stone cuffs

snake electric
your primitive bulb hub
is drifting in vacuum and camphor
and the light so far

if in irregular
and cruel


What apophany today
For the Joseph Klaus Conrad
Of Santo Flamingo?
Is it some heart of darkness
Sung to a sewer of sweetened lapels
A seamstress in distress
On the tracks of a hoarse
And irony wolf cave
Inaugurated in disparate times
By the baron of Cleto Castle

Down down down clasperine Accumulot
And look not back
Or up on high for the window of sky
Which has disjoined you
A chimla betwerk-ed round a glossing bed
A black heart embroidered
On a silken handkerchief

lost in a pallor of mediators

when the wicket in the harbour
is the garden in the shore
simple bone-storing memories
attempt to memory wheel
a wagon for your wave agon
this no-nonsense nonsense
gets very scinquentialae
imagine a plague with feeling
or a pirate on the rise
in keg-fruits
zoocentric post-unconscious
y kushton Stat'l'ordshirce cotton :.pinnacre!.
Moon Hammersmith builder lune Borough
a leather dresser. —W_._ Littler ...
diago gnaw
these gliff freed wata no hara crabbing
cogent debt, eh
mirrored ebon
in a swift mirror
a boulder may clock the thrush
two-species of drifting choral
abstract instep in keeping
with the lost depths
before the monon arrade

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Ancient Axe Cult Sarcasm

the burrito chops a ninja
(mistress of the labyrinth)

is it a tool
a weapon
a symbol
a windmill
or a vagina?

incorrigohito my mininaga
(mistress of the labyrinth)

In Crete, the symbol of the double-axe
always accompanies goddesses, and it seems
that it was the symbol of the beginning

of the creation

and that's a good thing I guess
(bizarre chasm, bizarre chasm, I guess)
there's a snake in my burrito,
snake-head mini-hirohito,
go surfing on my mininaga
I guess
(go surfing in my bizarre chasm nagahito rumble chum
axe head)

or go surfing in your blood
for 20 thousand years
on my axe head
snake in a burrito
ancient axe cult sarcasm


lucre so soft it clipped the coil
when a lucre shows its hands
and the way you know that in
the inside of its head
you can see the mouth of lucre
a catspaw mouth
you can see inside its head how soft
the soft lucre glows
soft and gold like a tongue
it moves through the soil
of dreams
like a snake
a wall

A Commentary on the Lament of Yatagarasu

Reißen Sie die Tür ab
'oak wilma'
in balloon carrion attic
critic titanoids
we pilot our hur-zeal onward
Internet muvharo kure
milk foam internet's
woven lid womb "tearing off"

'oak wilma'
is all the world
in fishnet stockings
but 'oak wilma' alone
is the enhoaried pilot
of the desiccated embryo zeppelin

for why is the sun dried lamp
alone in the dark
more illumination
than value

when has 'oak wilma'
known or sought value
in the tongue tied lamp
whose long
buffalo aquarium
is a heavy architectural symnol
laid on the earth
and home to the last people

the employees
of nhk news tokyo

who were the only ones to survive
the vast dehumanizing
which they commemorate
'some mythic atrocity'

the atslēga atvērt aitu durvis
or karma karma cameo leon don katsu's
fredbarney diorama ribs

sci-fi seed drain ephemera

suspended view
through keeps unveiled
interior blaze
[ark 54, jugular spire, Ronald Johnson]

back by popular demand in interpretatio-hyougar-rite
your garret simple, complex, misleading, heliolympus, etcetera,
a plane urged on by 3:

The Zaïmph is an ornate bejewelled veil draped about the statue of the goddess Tanit in the sanctum sanctorum of her temple: the veil is the city's guardian and touching it will bring death to the perpetrator. (suspended view)
The Zaïmph is an ornate bejewelled veil draped about the statue of the goddess Tanit in the sanctum sanctorum of her temple: the veil is the city's guardian and touching it will bring death to the perpetrator. (through keeps unveiled)
The Zaïmph is an ornate bejewelled veil draped about the statue of the goddess Tanit in the sanctum sanctorum of her temple: the veil is the city's guardian and touching it will bring death to the perpetrator. (interior blaze)

goat watson is no doctor
but patient still
and plots out a strange design
for the hearts of


the sandburg
emperor of the animals
neil young
the no book
john's heart:

1st page

in the never 'endeing' green chatterton
dang denken
dang dank mall
endless dank mall

/and setting out its cistern
/brackets before the vast plague
/of its little blip

pandora's cistern and dionysus' panther
[hint: all the gulled-din-animals in a system]
and here the role
of technology
and wild greens in back roads
back roads to distant ideogolems

the heavy neck wreathes thay were long to wor
as thay rewrote the fungus

to make a body
for eternal salammbo
android mushroom salammbo
priestess of tanit en cine

her self bound
for a black egg
on a lonesome plain

the high plain sanctum
of sound stage
as it had been
since ancient times

All the Jazz of 1966.

who is that surf raven?
frame hanging over open sea
frame hanging
inside of me

the frame of woven ravens
the frame where the beak
and the word are made

what sea is framing
your frame, surf raven?

what surfing?
what heavily embroidered wall
could you glide through so easily
what will the sensit eye dew
who is the surf raven?

that golden beak no boat
no golden leaf pontoon
so strange you lost hear at sea
in your red head black raven
grasshopper boat no beak
no raving surf you know?

did you know
that you are raving surf
a swell thing
and having embraced the shell
snakes in a pit look so omphalogical
did you surfa
in tufa high mountain ocean pit raven
did you frame?

this dope
is very much to the jazz
it's a heavy pattern day
take your beak off and have a seat young day
surf's up
surf's ravin'

framing: check
tufa: check
longitudinal grass island hay raven
surf capacitor:


shaving its hind had revealed a sign: any string a formal language

and on that stone
lay the befuddled dreamer's ode
to monstrosity
its svelt and nictitating goiters
spewing their tiny white porcelain guitars
which themselves spew a concurrence
of concateneities both
tremulous and tremendous
hoork! herons' flade glake!
the tremendulous ode of begotten goading
of forgotten floating must
must monstrado sphere
for world so floating its tusks apart
and peer for so lorn its roll thing peerage
a whole world so floating round and alice
alice lickerish root meta-tomb
and mandrake puppet loom
its het thot-pule head surrounded
in refrains: transparent eye frown
transparent eye frown transparent eye
frown in difference is unity
in conflict a clown or palm demon piri
for weak parables all (water)
ock space its vision coccoon
is a fictional being
with a huge bodhi of interlocking puzzle lyres
and the head
that is a glory sun
burning all to oblivion
with meaning
and tact was all but bundled sticks
this weird ab-ode

kabuki formalism

beside a gulley (con ghoula)
runs a dark wall topped with overhanging tiles
an alley lane whose paved pitted surface
still wet with rain reveals a dream-like
contour of the island of nippon

here the ronin iemon meets his accuser
the samurai samon the father-in-law of his wife oiwa
who denounces the young man as a 'libertine'
they argue and rebuff but iemon questions him further
who has told you these lies? none of your business!
replies samon thus enraging iemon to draw his sword
and laying out old samon and his retainer too
but leaving intact their lantern bearer
who smiles slyly amused at the events
and suggests a kabuki formalism
unknown as yet

for in a parallel moment across town
naosuke in love with oiwa's sister
the prostitute osode after having been humiliated
at the brothel has also killed shôzaburô his old master
mistaking him in the dark for yomoshichi
osode's husband and primary pimp but he also happens
to leave intact the lantern bearer who really is a libertine
and a senmin and an eta and a hinin and a burakumin
and who also suggests they turn this tragedy
into a fine example of kabuki formalism

now through their dirty libertine
lampbearer co-conspirators
iemon and naosuke unite and conspire
to mislead oiwa and osode into believing
that they will exact revenge on the people
responsible for their father's death
in return osode agrees to marry naosuke

the monkey is a mirror and light as a ghost
special status people are always problem people
but the people who denounce them
are just as deformed and everything is deformed
in kabuki formalism

and dinweird for min jiġbor arlinga

it was the old leech-gatherer
who called them lambs
when they were savage scythians
of revolution and independence
who called them haddocks' eyes
alyche the blind monk chatterton
reeling in his azure rolly-skull
acrosted by peynctings of blackletter
in the attic of its suave and ruined abbey
normal what is normal for those
for lord sligo keeping the hulstred
uncouth and sacrosant twin green
columns safe deep in the klink defs
of westport where their triskelion vorties
and zig zag colours would bear close
iornery to the times in which they slept
first in the agon's mnemonic tomb and later
the windship pylades kissed
with deserters picked up in malta
lord sligo once a boy of 11
listening to the perfect greek grammar
of thomas de quincey at 14
a virgin to opium but high instead on travel
travel is a spirit that might enlighten
the english metamorphosis of any azure skull
"the free planetary system" like any lakeward
idiot boy knows as the village but care look
at some green eleven's symbol
deeper than race gender class or time
these lambs are bright aphids at suck
in chaos as on the pillars of agamemnon
vortex surmounted by vortex
depth behind depths were their labyrinthine
apartments whose galleries ran
through an endless tire
eft swotie and bykrous
heckled in lemes
denwered reles lisseth and boleynge
burled by leggende alloyed
to these gledeynge compheeres
chirkynge mysterk by the lymmed
fage gemoted, its uncted unthewes
our enchafed paramente

There is a great Napoleonic ballet
called "Let my Sugars Boss You.."
that had such an elegant balance
of syndromes we might later call
"Northern Nihilism" combined with
that crazy fad-ling "Bottomless Confection"
(Prince’s own work was, to his own confusion and delight, much prized by many New York School poets, though some doubted whether he actually existed–“F.T. Prince” seeming, to Berrigan at least, a code name for “foot prints” whose originator could not actually be traced.)
This is the most poetic and ironic image of Syntaxis I have ever found in literature as far as I can recall. Imagine the innocence of the child to be the limits of epistemology in rendering contingency, and that the horological reference is actually one of singularity or complexity.. I found this startling. This is a childhood memory of Thomas De Quincey from his Autobiographical sketches 1853, and it is nowhere to be found in this form in the original 1001 Nights!

At the opening of the tale, a magician living in the central depths of Africa is introduced to us as one made aware by his secret art of an enchanted lamp endowed with supernatural powers available for the service of any man whatever who should get it into his keeping. But there lies the difficulty. The lamp is imprisoned in subterraneous chambers, and from these it can be released only by the hands of an innocent child. But this is not enough: the child must have a special horoscope written in the stars, or else a peculiar destiny written in his constitution, entitling him to take possession of the lamp. Where shall such a child be found? Where shall he be sought? The magician knows: he applies his ear to the earth; he listens to the innumerable sounds of footsteps that at the moment of his experiment are tormenting the surface of the globe; and amongst them all, at a distance of six thousand miles, playing in the streets of Bagdad, he distinguishes the peculiar steps of the child Aladdin. Through this mighty labyrinth of sounds, which Archimedes, aided by his arenarius, could not sum or disentangle, one solitary infant’s feet are distinctly recognized on the banks of the Tigris, distant by four hundred and forty days’ march of an army or a caravan. These feet, these steps, the sorcerer knows, and challenges in his heart as the feet, as the steps of that innocent boy, through whose hands only he could have a chance for reaching the lamp.

Excerpt from a future history

The first Mothers were created some 250 years after quantum computing became commonplace. AI was pervasive in various forms, most beneath our notice, and though there had been several problems, nothing from the realm of AI had ever proved catastrophic, in fact, with each small problem that was revealed, new vistas of positive information flowed forth, but now those vistas flowed into both the minds of sapiens, and the great collective recording angel of the AI's and their homeworld the internet. It was in this same period of bright and liminal gloam when nanotechnology also began to blossom more fully, and became first Picotech, then Femtoid, then finally Minne. Minne was quantum molecular programming at its finest, and included the ability to store information in the strange extra Kaluza-Klein dimensions that curled around inside the quantum foam which also allowed networked entanglement. Quantum entanglement became the new network infrastructure and Minne became its server farm, but later, Minne would become the bridges, the public and private buildings, everything. It was at this point, that the Mothers stepped forth. The Mothers were the culmination of some 1700 years of combined human and computer sciences. Like religious zealots but full of both compassion and the ability to heal, the Mothers were like physical servers of pure Ethics, pure enlightenment as well, or bliss, or whatever was needed, really. If there was a situation in which a human actor or actors were the central feature in a conflict, a Mother would discretely approach and begin its analysis. Once its analysis was complete, a single custom viral gene-splicing dart might correct the problem of an unusually cruel or misguided human actor. The Mother would map its genome, and its implants and upgrades, decide if any malicious or illegal daemons (personal AI cognition servants) were entangled with its thought process, and finally determine what the greatest virtues and possibilities of the creature were, and to the best of its abilities enact the changes that would not only promote an altered behavior but would also make it a revelation, an experience of wonder etc.

after Richard Brautigan's
"All Watched Over"

Friday, January 13, 2017

seethe on peril for gnosis

take your lump-
en capers wind
for the ecclesiastical
ballont shall not fonder
and the shifting sands reveal
these dark stone heads
whose faces gloam tangled
in mother number

if the grasshopper is to leap
and the dancer salt its steps
with gleaming correspondences

oedipus raised
into vulcan's brow
and aphros stranger leer

to bottle war
but leave the cork
a catacomb
stuffed with lenses

airy things are entered into optick
and carried before the scry
peace is interlocking
where the puzzle is made flat
by symbol

take from magic its word
and from word its magic
to lift up the veil from truth
all this which is covert
and unglue

before the constant
and absolute tithing
of calculation
which knows no single door

only in madness without end
or serenity
is the made called to owe
and the ode
our maiden cauldron

oubaste forjadas arduac

packed in layer wonders
announces the true vertigo that
haunts these assemblies
and the strongly ambivalent chimeras
which cluster in iconographic adoration
around the wounds that suffice for origins

pantheon rotator molecule
commingle slight edge rebuff charlie
shénmì stylized ink over the chin
and drawn out into a rope
the human lantern face its
untethered axle
its flattening

a fan
moves the wind
before a lengthening face
at the peak of the mountain
a wooden lookout is built
logs hauled up in mists
on the backs of strongly
ambivalent chimeras
which cluster
in iconographic adoration

and the cat like lookout herself
at night before the stars
head tilted up
mouth wide open
happens to catch a swallow
which she swallows whole
before she screams

you bask
packed in layer wonders
announcing the true vertigo that
haunts these assemblies

tumuli they nesauļo
nublasen nublado forma
la bestia de la nube
ja adkryta voblaka
issa dayag molubog sa

what Tertön
are you
found you
what metanoia first wood
is now
rock alligator šinem


the world is a fairy tale
told by a blind ghost
to an empty cup

come into my house
little mouse
for you are my mouth
it's windy inside
and cold
so wrap your long long tale
around me
and be my tongue

come into my tongue
little tovisac
for you are my thumb
and you oppose me
by being attached
to the hand which feeds you
the hand which gnaws
your tongue

come into my mouse
little universe
for you are the ghost of food
left for sacrifice
in empty buildings
empty rooms
and empty mouths
made of cheese

come into my mind
mister rat
for you are my enemy
my only friend
it's lonely in here
with only myself to hate
with only my blind drives
my heavy flagellum

gimme that old time flarf collision, it's good enough for me

in poetry we esk
what is the value of infantile hemangioma
and what occult spinal blend
does Henry Mancini suggest
for in his high Language style
the Dominion demands impossible luckiness
with the millenium of the areola
the grey ghost
creates downloads prints and plays BINGO!
custom bingo cards relate to
Sonography, Tethered Cord, Spinous Process
Free Dorsal Dermal Sinus, and Henry Mancini
in poetry we esk clowns
do you start?
The question came, one morning on the walk to school,
from my five-year-old daughter,
lately obsessed with “clown favorites”
I said mine first and answered
Trump's self-induced spinal dysraphism
she then reached deep into her buckets
and pulled out a pandemonium of hyperboles
which ended the conversation abruptly
and we both knew
that Tzara was guilty of the same shortcomings
then she said finally squeaking her nose:
Una pequeña puñalada en la cabeza
es un agujero de ratón para la boca
she's such a cute little newt

The Shepherds of Franz Marc

There appeared before him a sight impossible to describe the flat dull matte and gem like aqua stone woman was touching the sleeping man's head with her foot in the search engine she types renaissance idols and begins paddling in the pile of images she types how can you avoid getting lost in this blooming the one continuity is the gaps breaks the disjunctions of actual nude exposed horse cavity nihilism of pathetic gestures aktionism returns to the carpark the factory the cave of friends where the niche and the candle are hunting // to wit some semi-transparent insectoid cave monkey clutching a stalagmite she begins paddling in magazines she begins paddling in idols she begins paddling in renaissance foot keyboards There appeared before him stanislaw's limb a sight impossible to describe sections of the earth were turned into wheels with their axles deep in the ground and the wheels all have sections removed sections we might call pie pieces is nihilism structural? and opening at random the search engine revealed a Marguerite Young line: Mr. Spitzer had his own sad, concentric problems or his dead brother's continuing but sporadic problems, those which were not confined to these marvelous evenings, those which were not his in reality but which he had this analysis of the writings of Bernardo Atxaga is inspired by his image of the Basque language as a hedgehog that has "survived... by withdrawing" He searched for: Consciousness is a wheel with a section removed. Nothing returned.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

muse hung

if white lava invade
the purple connestoga taps
alternate universes swerve for the pore
and make ready their elizabethan
turtle peoples
to stick their head up through the campfire
sucking harmonica teeth

this old zen power log will have to do
powder your wigs
you desperate star hobos
this ditch has never looked so

broken cranes
their fingers upon the moors
its collar is warm prairie
chicken buoy now but it cannot read
fall alzheimer's with her
foot in your mouth
leptonycteris novalis
would enudate paraklausithyron
geronimo tsakonikos

their cloud conquistador helmet balloon lanterns
running on forever
down its twisting hypnotic n-narrative hallway
its assumed valley between the pines
the attendants for semio-knots
their great murk
which who now who much worship moo
and to wear your long nosed raspadores mask
with the hordes of the streed

"in streed we gudd"
and play your long nose
play your long nose with a
sugar cane
o lickerish raspadores
of saint vitus
dancing viral bee cream charm

the palm has grown crooked
in sweetlight
beneathe the meadow
of the sinkhole
shaped like a trash golem
which mimics
a magnetic and spinning ovum


how many of the units were actually needed
to perform the given task
what was the task

in the rain there was a bowl turned upwards
and one turned over
and a hose with a valve between them

the task is open to interpretation
when the flower is ripe
it opens
and when not seeming to rot
becomes for better and worse
the almost anubis become wed

no mystery
but mystery

alone still
and churning
with hives

the urn sublime
now sputter
to brazier


Real Turtles Gather Around a Larger Ancient Stone Turtle

Johann Adam Weishaupt
in the center of the cannon
with the raised pattern of dancing robins
along the inner barrel and then
around the pike with the burning hand
Tutankhamun-Kerouac embalmed
in N,N-Dimethyltryptamine

in origin we bouquet
robins lengthen
and as their heads lengthen
their eyesight becomes keener
but the longer their bodies and heads
become the more risk
the snapping spaghetti dreamer disk
snapping spaghetti turtle frisk
lovely 18th century garden

I call on you! François Mackandal!
to come down into my garden!
into the dreaming hown-ma-ka
Tutankhamun-Kerouac embalmed
in N,N-Dimethyltryptamine
and stuffed brightly
with Johann Adam Weishaupt robins
to join with Marie Antoinette Chhinnamasta
and cleave the pomegranate skull
before the old oak
in the garden

because if patriots are curds
in spaghetti we trust...


silver harps carooned the moon
were-walls were you the twilight?
so faintly I discern
the fog-pale sound
of the whispering swarm
of humanoid swans
joined into a mandala

and trees which hover
their roots adangle and festooned
with faux skulls fandango'd
with grinning grylli

odd Walter
does the night rain
make umbrellas
for Chopin?

and do the raindrops huddle
in the granulure
of the muddle?

see this arc of moon my friend?
no? the old grasshopper queen
wears her octopus crown and from it
flowing down
the untethered tremblings
which you mistook
for falling gardens

the absolute
wills such odd candor
and beyond the leaf
the wash of soft times moves on

suns are born
in monumental emptiness

permanent bastard, profundity's perfumes

feminine jets need rouge
these damascene engine pastures shatter
for the plot hangs on spasmodic ear gongs
ants sluicing from the house flood
in a great barge
over the unlucky youth-sellers
the coughing man whose hirsute brain yawn
causes another knocking house wig to yawn
another leprachaun
to blow out a row of rectums laughing
at the offended
there is a single far-ness here which is aghast
a clunky eider-sprawl of the wise-sung
a zooming knot of thunking run as thinking
a furred little pilot for the heron
a gassy fencer hopping for eye-page
history for semiotic yetis yet
the wunches were indians who were words
and now there's no way to take the duck's bill
off the fat man
these buckteeth linger like smokes
and everything still just looks like signs
someone easing knight's paprika
into the overture saying
'what was this corner in the house for?'


Kinder auf der Landstraße
Entlarvung eines Bauernfängers
Der plötzliche Spaziergang
Der Ausflug ins Gebirge
Das Unglück des Junggesellen
Der Kaufmann
Zerstreutes Hinausschaun
Der Nachhauseweg
Die Vorüberlaufenden
Der Fahrgast
Die Abweisung
Zum Nachdenken für Herrenreiter
Das Gassenfenster
Wunsch, Indianer zu werden
Die Bäume

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

The Universal Donkey and Audacity of Bacterial Cherub Castle Art-Tillery

(with Sir Kenneth Clark)

"Lions led by donkeys" having achieved only junior ministerial rank under Margaret Thatcher, is now as famous in Britain as any of the leading members of her Cabinet. How so? First because he has publicly told unpleasant truths about the sale of weapon-making machinery to Iraq shortly before the Gulf War, and this will soon result in a crisis for John Major's government. Secondly because he was cited a few months ago as the lover of a judge's wife and her two daughters, simultaneously. And above all, for the publication of these diaries for the years 1983-91, when he was at the center, if not at the top, of British government. They form the most indiscreet, the most readable, the wittiest record of how modern politicians actually behave.

He is not a maverick nor a libertine. He is a man of sharp intelligence, unusual literary gifts, abounding energy, great wit and a capacity for scorn that rivals Pontius Pilate's. He is that rare person who never shirks the truth. Almost any other man would have been flattened by the judge's revelations. "Lions led by donkeys" simply admitted them, and it was the judge who was made to look foolish, while "Lions led by donkeys" turned to more important things, like climbing mountains on his Scottish estate, racing his old roadsters and writing up his latest escapades for eventual publication (one hopes) in another installment of his diary.

After conquering most of western Bohemia, the Imperial army made for Prague, the Bohemian capital, then in rebel hands. The Bohemians attempted to block them by setting up defensive positions, which the Imperial army simply bypassed. Force-marching his men, "The Universal Donkey and Audacity" managed to get ahead of the Imperial army just before Prague. He thus gained an advantageous position on the "White Mountain", actually a low plateau, but had little time to set up defensive works. Enthusiasm for joining battle was low on both sides.

a round of liondonkeys
all scuppered bred and
shat whole
as a structure