Friday, February 4, 2011

Sinking Feelings

comealog commalogue
decimalleabull imshi lictious

I think that a large malachite bathtub
on malachite table wheels 
sitting in here would look nice

also a large replica
of a glass syringe
hanging on the wall
would be nice
if it was a fish tank
and the power cables
could come out the
needle hole

we'd have a little tv
set in the ceiling
about 2" x 2"

but then have a giant globe
inset in a big niche in the hall
covered in all kinds of gross
taxidermy skins sewn together
like nations or coutries
or georumples, and then
there could be a nice
brass plaque that would say:


and on top
there could be a big
green glass beer stein
with a big 
letter F on it.

Even when I pretend to be 
smart, or pretend to be dumb.

I could tell you
I could easily be the perfect hybrid
of Wolfgang Kayser
and Daniel Johnston, but
it won't get me anywhere with you,
so I'll just

decorate my cave with kitsch stuff
and be square
and try to get a job again
and wait till I die.

Our contemporary esthetics and poetics 
follow in their footsteps, and I myself find 
it necessary to speak of the grotesque—
if it is to gain currency as an esthetic 
category—as a comprehensive structural 
principle of works of art

No, The Grotesque is when you understand
that concepts no longer contain the meaning
of matter, or its lack of meaning.

The Grotesque is when you learn
why Existentialism came about,
and also that people
can't talk about anything but
their own failed

toward style.


  1. Thanks for the Daniel Johnston link. Made me think of Lewis Trondheim's a.l.i.e.e.n..

    re: groteque existence: I often return to Zelazny when confronted with the unassailable big black ball of bullshit the Gozmos appears to be. He comforts me in simple style, wit roses snakes and the occasional Unicorn.

    This keyboard is brokken. I begin to dislike it. Often Shiftless, and sometimes repeats itself.

    I have a strong interest in blending the bio and mecha systems of this planet. This is not because, like so many nothing-heads, I feel that biological construction is any kind of lesser-than proposition; I just think it is probably what the planet wants us to do. I'm a form junkie, a Time-denier and a hopist; I envy Sisyphus. There's someone whose intentions towards style are predictable and admirable.

    Thanks for the work; sorry for the essay! I often feel a need to respond here, because your work stirs lotsa thoughts. I expect I generally make a ring-tailed lemur in a fucking hat out of myself doing it, but hey - what are poets for? Too bad i can't tap-dance too.


  2. How can you tell? God, that makes me think of the Trondheim book again; it is kind of a poem about shit.

    I occasionally like some of my own or somebody else's poems. Life is like a bowl of shit; if it wasn't for the peanuts, I wouldn't be eating it.


Irrony Observes The Earthing.