Saturday, June 30, 2012

pupeace footia and twim



plate Crete
its finest mole
and what went faun
the deliver'd tone

achemical accordion
for the prodigal sun
such closed
and how hand

raised beyond its infernal question
to halt if any besides
that the circle at most rimmed
there the beginning
there the end

handle, or ear

and paints a white flame
toward its blue horizon

snake taffy rabbits
to smoke pub loom
let all these shilldren
snolder




Friday, June 29, 2012

Nadia ul-Gindy: Egyptian Cinema's Queen of Violence, Sexuality & Raw Emotion!



chocolate doggy hut, harry
mushed up hushed up my stool's a fang
from the winter garden where your anvil
white as snow lays like an odalisque
awaiting hammer

"M"

oh favorable
that a small movement of the hands
like a bicycle can enact a mechanical
sky centipede glider
from hand-jive to luminous strings
of inflatable video balloon dolphins
in only one small motion

chocolate doggy hut
universe as id, pi forever gilty
those gorgeous gold bollocks
dripping rococo star locks
where the pea green algal babylons
cluster to the bearded stones

oh weep egypt
with your bounty sewn up
in an eagle's stomach
and your ideology as dry
as a mummified dog
fat pink amoebas swarm
your venerable rectums
of stone

all flying machines
are prayers
hospital ships in the history of poker

all prayers
are chocolate doggy huts, harry
movie stars covered in leaves
hold grand symposiums in Atlantis
raising their forked golden stick wands
together into quivering faux tensegrity diagrams

o moustached pyramid bicycle
this sweet Mau
bears a mass of scarabeetle graph
upon its forehead

platinum sunglasses
heavy
across the bridge
of your every ad nauseum



Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Here we Tetraktys to the left and be pronounced as a translator




but none of them owns the landscape, the still
covetous vision of things in absolute dominion...
-Medard Boss


Was thinking of Gregor Schneider this evening, but imagining a more bucolic setting for his work, or rather a transplanting or even a translating of a sort of rustic 'lean-to' mood that I had gleaned before on viewing a film about his hauswerk on Unterheydener Straße in Mönchengladbach-Rheydt. looking through my own inner back door eye, I suddenly found the simple search terms German Impressionism + licht, and was surprised to find the painter Georg Arnold-Graboné. A painter who, while schooled in cubism would come to write “Ich bin kein freund der Abstracten kunst”, I am no friend to abstract art, which is sort of interesting because recently I also saw a documentary which said that Picasso's blue period was the result of a general jingoistic abreaction against abstract art in France during the onset of WWI, and was being called unpatriotic, and "German".. But besides all this, and much more left unmentioned, Georg Arnold-Grabone' became the art teacher of Dwight D. Eisenhower in the 1950's. From Wikipedia:

In 1951 U.S. General Dwight D. Eisenhower was stationed in Garmisch as the commander of occupied Europe. Sir Winston Churchill encouraged Eisenhower to take up painting as a hobby. Eisenhower followed Churchill’s advice and began to take lessons from Arnold-Graboné. At that time Arnold-Graboné had his studio only a few miles from Eisenhower’s headquarters. For a period of time Eisenhower flew twice weekly from Paris to Füstenfeldbruck, and then by automobile to Tutzing where he took his art lessons from the professor. They formed a friendship and one of Arnold-Graboné’s paintings hung in the White House. Later the former president hung one of the paintings, "Zugspitze" in his home in Gettysburg.

Arnold-Graboné’s circle of American friends acquired at NATO headquarters also included General Nordstrom and Robert L. Scott (author of "God is my copilot"). The artist marketed his works to the junior officers stationed at NATO headquarters and he often invited them to exhibitions his work. As a consequence, many young American officers purchased paintings and brought them back to the United States.

Through Eisenhower, Arnold-Graboné eventually became acquainted with Sir Winston Churchill. Churchill was interested in the artist's spatula technique and asked him for some tutelage. The two of them spent several weeks one summer in the early 1950s painting together on the Isle of Man.

Although he maintained his studio in Tutzing the artist exhibited throughout the world. In the 1950s and 1960s Arnold-Graboné had exhibitions in the United States, including New York, Chicago, Washington DC and Sarasota, Florida. Former President Lyndon B. Johnson owned in his private collection an original Graboné titled "Arber".

In 1929, the Swiss Microbiologist Arber Werner was born. His work postulated the existence of restriction enzymes, selective enzymes that break down molecules of DNA into pieces small enough to be separated for individual study but large enough to retain bits of the original substance's genetic information. These enzymes (later isolated by Hamilton Smith) laid the foundation for the science of genetic engineering, and for this work Arber shared the 1978 Nobel Prize for physiology or medicine with Smith and Daniel Nathans.

I looked awhile at the available work of Arnold-Graboné examining its DNA you might say, until I came upon the single house that I would make my own Gregor Schneider in. Here is the house:


As soon as I had begun to work in that landscape inside the house itself, I knew it was the one. The two 'audience houses' would be accessed by tunnels from the hill house stage, or Haus Hügel Bühne, an no external entrances would remain. The luckiest part was finding an indoor well which led eventually to an abandoned mineshaft whose recesses I would begin to fill with the gems of my production. But suddenly I began to come under the influence of Inge Müller, as I knew my hauswerk had every right to fall down on me, crushing me. Inge:

Under the Rubble III

When I went for water a house fell on me
We bore the house
The forgotten dog and I.
Don't ask me how
I don't remember
Ask the dog how.

“Ich bin kein freund der Abstracten kunst”


I remember making in a small magazine, in a small house, a cabaña
a little picture of Winston Churchill as a bulldog centaur while on LSD,
but nobody on LSD will be allowed in my Haus Hügel Bühne, not with Inge.
She is sensitive, disturbed, she changes the plumbing system so that the eaves of the house
drip water that runs down in rivulets into dog shaped pools. She has a tiny hand carved dog
with a lever in its chest that lets you move its mouth. You see the teeth, and the red tongue, but
the lever looks like a penis growing from its chest. It's strange, or maybe it's a misplaced tale.
Like the one she tells:

I left you during the night tonight
For a long time, it seems to me: forever.
The morning was a gray chamber
And as you left there was smoke in the streets.

She has a trauma. The air is vast and bucolic. I make heavy tables for taverns, break bottles on rocks
and care silently for colored patches of light in the green sheep's wool ground.

“Ich bin kein freund der Abstracten kunst”
Wand ohne Bild


On the walls are many pictures, and I read long days in the big bucolic barn where I play rearranging the walls of this hilltop stage house. It isn't Inge here I realize, but Gracie..

In Grace's veins flowed mercury, the purest distillation of icy metals. Her skin was transparent almost, and pale. One felt that if one took a piece between finger and thumb, and ripped downward, say from knee to ankle, the whole epidermis would come away wetly, effortlessly, like sodden brown paper, cleaving the flesh and bone open. On her back as she sat on our inadequate bed, I have trace many a curious forefinger among the soft grooves and lucent vertebrae - colorless nuts - transparent jellybeans - each housing a tiny orphaned fang of mercury, barely protruding under their transparent cover.

That's a whole house there to stage up. As in Merleau-Ponty's "flesh" written only as F, its initial sympathy.
I am no friend to abstract art, but neither an enemy. What I see or seek is a more fundamental bodily dimension to my home. The gem tunnel is fine, and all day I toil carrying soil into the attic where Inge's graceful faucet can turn it to eavesdropping mud.

Fink and Heidegger back and forth, Georg and Gregor slandering froth, and the house in Arber Werner,
eros once again limb-loosener, sore Novalis fleeing no pain

glukuprikon
the hauswerk
hisswreck
wrackist
hector
symposium
the arrangement
of the cup
the speakers
the table

a pyramid
with horns



Grew Tautollurgical Gawleon



folding frieght to its fated fist the sea urchin urges slowly each caustic incremental judgement unencumbered by the organ of grey light the singeries proclaim for the brute book of flowering hours pistol daemon stemming the miscreant juxtaposition its sounding well the good protein in its odd wide airy fell aerie singery aeolian eye of rotunda blind the black spiny feint where monkey as species delivers the oracle card back to the threeming soil its emple unpunched and clean and slick the untoward drawing of its oughtless nous temporal dodecachordon the vissage slipping through the tendoned tenor error tonos the dry mote clurges throat to foo in off, another dual mark or score testing: Structures Tendues et Autotendantes


Tuesday, June 26, 2012

SUICIDE (T-Shirt slogan Seen in Times Square)



Echoes. Echoes and prophesy, and the way a dog can sense a storm coming. And in humans, senses beyond the rational, narratives performed by agents against their own will, as if there was a collective will, or drive, or the idea that in holarchy, collective manifestations are enunciatory, and that when certain waves enter, as in mesmerism, the human vessel is powerless but to transmit. Looking at Stephen L. Cook's interestingly referential Prophecy and Apocalypticism, I was struck by a possible parallel between the origin of our modern Avant-Gardes, and Otto Plöger's influential original study about the origins and development of Old Testament Apocalyptic literature he mentions, from 1959. Plöger's approach, Cook informs us, has some roots in the work of the 19th century sociological work of Ferdinand Tonnies, who transmitted a distinction between "community" (Gemeinschaft), and "society" (Gesellschaft). "Whereas earlier scholars spoke in general terms about Jewish distress, Plöger's sociological understanding specified apocalyptic literature as the product of a Gemeinschaft alienated from the postexilic priestly establishment." He then goes on to describe how Paul Hanson further develops these ideas, combining them with the theses of Frank Moore Cross.



I guess what I find interesting, and what helps form the matrix for the general outline of my parallel, is something in that 'reutilization of mythopoetic language', and in a sense, one need only look at someone like Ezra Pound, who stands up as something of a poster child for just such a production, but really, just the term antihierocratic is sufficient to sum up most of the origins of many of our founding Avant-Garde Gemeinschaft, by their own admission, in various writings. Now one can take issue, and say, for instance that with Ezra Pound, his antihierocratic urge was presented more as a hyperhierocratic programme which upbraided the priestly establishment for their decadence, but we can also easily turn to something like the Cobra movement:

Their working method was based on spontaneity and experiment, and they drew their inspiration in particular from children’s drawings, from primitive art forms and from the work of Paul Klee and Joan Miró.

The strange thing, or rather the clever, curious thing, is the way antihierocratic urges can suddenly solidify into hyperhierocratic priesthoods of antihierocracy which is more or less what spawned post-modernism. So in a surrealist sense, we can see this sort of odd siamese-twin being being performed at the level of the Gemeinschaft, and in that sine-wave like bobbing or fourier transform from antihierocracy to hyperhierocracy, another modulation being carried out, that of the mundane rejection of one group by another, and the negotiation not necessarily of eschatology, but is-scatology, or even Piscatology, vis a vis, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”, whether that be simple entrainment, or an entrainment to de-entrain, whose paradoxical matrix is the very figure of a music of desiring, a push-me-pull-you of coloring organization, when only more organization, or organized disorganization can follow, ie, poetry, and indeed thought itself, as the penultimate emblem of phenomenality itself.


But looking as I always do, for the agent of Irronism, that item that perhaps represents all sides, and none, and one or more others, I happened recently on the newly translated text of Ernst Weiss' Georg Letham: Physician and Murderer which is one of the few books I have ever seen actually blurbed by Kafka:

"What an extraordinary writer he is!" —Franz Kafka


And what an extraordinary example of a man caught between Gemeinschaft, and Gesellschaft:



Medical officer. Student of Freud. Friend of Kafka. And, novelist of Murder, Schitzophrenia, AND Reason, whose narrator, cannot be trusted.

Here I would like to insert Tony Miksanek's Journal of the American Medical Association review of Georg Letham: Physician and Murderer 

Rats—the small rodent kind and the large human kind—figure prominently in Georg Letham: Physician and Murderer. Hordes of rats infest this novel, and they are nearly impossible to exterminate. Georg Letham, the narrator of this sprawling story, is a 40-year-old European physician with self-destructive tendencies and a deep affection for money. Although Letham prides himself on his ability to inspire trust, he is not trustworthy. By the end of the book, the twisted physician rediscovers his humanity and uncovers the epidemiology of yellow fever. Letham's life is full of contradictions. He admits to being lucky but gripes about his misfortune. He spends his nights either working in the laboratory or gambling. He is both a criminal and a scientist. Although his main interest is experimental bacteriology, Letham begins a private practice concentrating on surgery and gynecology. In hindsight, his exodus from research is a bad choice. He is not a people person: “Illness interested me, the ill did not.” Letham's tragic flaw is carelessness. While investigating scarlet fever, he transmits streptococcal sepsis to 2 surgical patients. He is unfaithful to his older and wealthy wife, and he later murders her by administering a deadly toxin. He is sloppy and leaves evidence—an empty vial and syringe—behind. He goes to trial, and his punishment for poisoning his wife is a life sentence of hard labor in a penal colony. Meanwhile, yellow fever is wreaking havoc on the tropical island where Letham is sent for imprisonment. The mortality rate from the infection is as high as 55%, and the etiology and transmission of the disease are as yet unknown. Typhus, leprosy, tuberculosis, and malaria also vex the inhabitants of the island. In all, an appropriate environment for a physician-murderer who happens to have an interest in microbiology research. Letham is quickly put to work in a makeshift hospital set up in a former convent. A group of 5 persons including Letham, a fellow convict, 2 physician-scientists, and the prison chaplain (a priest with an “Amen” tattoo) set out to identify the cause of yellow fever and how to stop its spread. They intend to infect themselves with the disease. The men are willing to sacrifice their own lives (along with the lives of others) to find an answer: “Physicians have experimented on human beings from time to time for as long as medical science has existed. It has not been exactly the rule, but by no means the exception, either, that physicians have ventured to experiment on themselves.” Their self-experimentation is “successful.” Letham contracts yellow fever and endures its terrible symptoms but survives. Others are not so fortunate: 2 men die as a result of the experiment. The scientists prove that the Stegomyia mosquito is the vector of transmission. The governor of the prison island authorizes a program to eradicate the mosquitoes, with the aim of eliminating yellow fever. Letham's influential father pulls some strings to obtain clemency for his son, and in light of Letham's sacrifice and service, the murderer receives a pardon. Although he must remain in exile on the island, he is allowed to ply his trade as a physician. Medical ethics is a hot topic in this novel. Yet the story addresses several important issues beyond the proper behavior of physicians and the moral code of conduct for medical researchers: justice, punishment, altruism, the fear of illness, the joy of recovery, the ecstasy of being alive, and the absolute worth of a single human life. Slowly and painfully, the physician-murderer comes to understand the duty of a physician—which is first and foremost to provide solace for the patient. The author, Ernst Weiss, has medical credentials. He served as a ship's physician and as a military physician. He was a friend of Franz Kafka, a survivor of tuberculosis and attempted suicide. First published in German in 1931, the book is now available in an English translation. Although the first half of this marathon-like novel is often tough sledding, it finishes strong. Part medical detective story and part criminal confession, Georg Letham: Physician and Murderer is a long and risky read. From a literary standpoint, readers can expect a sizeable reward for their effort.

With news articles tonight on the spread of West Nile virus in the local mosquitos near where I live, they are spraying for them not even 10 miles from here, the book carries a special charm, and the fact that I was carrying the book with me on a recent departure from New York where I happened to glance a giant inflatable rat strapped to the back of a pick-up truck and towering over it. The fact that the Hispanic town-car driver said something like "labor dispute theatrics" also lends a certain irronic frisson, and could even
replace, in a comic grotesque way, the whole Gemeinschaft / Gesellschaft dynamic. The book was an impulse buy at the book store of the Neue Gallerie.


I guess I could go on about quotationism and apocalyptic irronism, about eating breakfast at "Le Pain Quotidien," a chain restaurant, in New York, or at "Peasant" a bistro-boho Italian eatery in Nolita, about all the Arab lolitas I saw wandering Times Square, or "Our Square Times" and how that rhymes with the fact that I missed the Mermaid Parade in Coney Island, but watched half asleep today as they attacked Johnny Depp on TV, and how I stood next to a lego Johnny Depp / Jack Sparrow at FAO Schwarz, or how I gawked at the mermaid atop one of Filippo Negroli's helmets at the Met, but all I can really say is


Amen...





dot and larger dot (primitive statue electrocute)






face peace ivy invy aglum oglu the hushed negrolis alone in night vitrine external cranial intestines or the word that Bjorn said wreathus beeba beneath us along the basal delta sparks cooled to a frozen map an ice of lavender bees carved into a torque a pipe for smoking Afro Basaldella handling ceramic sandwiches easyfun ethereal herd of high heel thou shall not wither and thou shalt rove in Conestoga mercury along the nilotic venice where gear toothed hairs incessantly relax good grey marble garden interact the angled bleached eye of its fountain to gaze skyward ducks in a syrup of daze manilla swallows darting through twisting limbs of purple velvet and these their iron shells we have at last come to know but have caved no scratch for cumber link 









 

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

loaved of drylur and pah of fockets






pah pyune moolt

urrrrd

this peculiar composition
consisting chiefly of fresh blood
mixed with the sawdust of hard
and resinous woods
and squeezed by a hydraulic press
into iron or steel moulds
heated by gas
as invented by 
Latri in Paris


chazem


pah pyune moolt
it's shiva latri
w/ three gullets like a dog
con tre gole caninaménte
and against the purpose
for some

urrrrd this

ganga sum a latri
walk softly, steal, creep, slip
where in the mangle
of seal caves
goes the toiler
sita kaldur i latri

chah pyune zemurrrr
har er sum a latrinum

their bellies
painted in stripes
laturligur
laturmildur
laturverdur
laturvirgian

pa pah papa pah
logdu sinum
astum saman

its stew
luminous
in the barnacled
caldron



zestomelissampala ||






and the poem arose like a hornet instead of the "William Tell Overture" and took the tender locust to its hole and brood whole ||----------------------------------------------------------------| | | | brood | | you are orchid | | you are rude | | and the locust | | is our grubstake | | | | mood ||----------------------------------------------------------------| | | as long from the chin | | to the collar as the yellow | | is from purple aubergine | | | | distorted | | by a golden brand | | lost some years ago | | while auguring an eye~ | | and within the bee hot sphere, | | and ||------------------------------------------------------------------------------| | odd: 1 ctuci 1 ctuca, 1 ctuac 1 ctrl 1 ctremna 1 ctipre 1 ctidjitce 1 ctica 1 ctic 1 ctesnami 1 ctesanmi 1 ctesa'a 1 ctemidju 1 cteji 1 ctecutci 1 ctcenyk 1 ctasmi 1 cruvei 1 crutcini 1 crude 1 crovu'i 1 croteryreibe'e 1 crotcegau 1 croselxarnu 1 crori'a 1 cronunmenli 1 crogle 1 croca 1 croaked 1 crlis 1 critic 1 crinu 1 crino, 1 cribe, 1 crib 1 crezi crezi foehn crezi paramos intruded by the tongues of glaciers:




Broken Prionite



reading slowly, quietly, the intervariegations forming between Steve McCaffery's SEEN PAGES MSSNG: VOLUME ONE and Nathalie Sarraute's THE GOLDEN FRUITS, then finding all the photographic pages from a copy of Wilfred Thesiger's THE MARSH ARABS tucked neatly inside the front cover of Kenward Elmslie's MOTOR DISTURBANCE while my wife reads from Richard E. Strassberg's A CHINESE BESTIARY, Strange Creatures from the Guideways through Mountains and Seas which I begin to find intervariegating with a long article from a 1963 issue of TRUE magazine on the latest cars, where each car is given a picture, and a short description. The same, somewhat ridiculous conceptual charm is present in both. It is also a similar charm, or lack of charm, as charm, which exists in the individual phrases which make up the Panopticon section of SEEN PAGES MSSNG which was originally a library book and has its cover heavily laminated so that the call number cannot be removed from the spine; 811.54 / MCCA / v.1, and the
fact that 8-1-1+5-4 = VII.


frotting culpon








Friday, June 15, 2012

Some of the Evil Analects of Confusious




see now
an infant
with legs
bundled
together
fashioned
of eggs
and seeds
exhaling
reaching
down thru
covered
mind
to teach
the beard
which is
working
for money

the sun
is in fashion
w/ wings
made of
altered
plants
this bird
is a person
dotted w/
rejoicing
armpits
which
exhales
from a
blowhole
at the top
of its
head

grasping
the abundance
of the mooning
phoenix's
girlfriend nose
its movement
within long
robes
two ships
are tied
together
by a wheat
bridge

the phoenix
girlfriend
plays
your
armpit
drums
huffing
and puffing

bird people
fly like
arrows
into your mouth
to find
the beard
that works
for money
but it has
flown away
angry

the phoenix's
armpit dots
are people
with beards
barking orders
to the leg-bundled
seed-egg-baby
mistakenly
thru its
cranial blo-hole

with my
right hand
on your ass
i draw a picture
of a baby
with my finger
then put it
in your ass
and find
a stool
in your basket

it is a female monkey
with an ancient funnel
supporting an aging parent
who is bound w/ string

a beard who works
for money
is a strange love
a criminal dog
who gets in a car
like a sugarcane
which is stalking
something like
rare savory
mutton fish
shaped like
an arrow

this phoenix
girlfriend nose
is a dog
which springs
into a car

the car is
a child
wearing a
beard

to show
that it is
evil and
creative
the root
it's a joke
about a beard
who says
through his
cranial-blow-hole

does nature
respect humanity

the true way
is like
taking a
sashimi child
from a plant
and feeding
it beer
to make it
lively
and vivid
before it
gets sick
on its birthday

it will take
care of its parents
the plant people
with fish guts
binding them
with string
forcing them
back into
the ancient funnel
where they
will become
the pure white
juice of sugarcane

fed to the stool
of a female money
to become the feeling
between two lovers
as they hang
severed hands
in a bewildering tree
growing from a
blow-hole

while the plant
foetus licks
the anal blow hole
an illuminated tree
will hide its beard
from the old people
who poop
like female monkeys
tied with string
for money

what is work
but crime
confounded by
speech

pleasantly joined
documents
are the facial expressions
of lusty risque
fish muttons
shooting emotions
like arrows

the transparent
baby mouth
is wooing
both sun
and earth
by contract

a female monkey
changes her beard
into a phoenix
loyal only
to the blowhole
which is covered
by hands

a little person
is peeing
at the edge
of the water
and sounds
like wings
flapping




















Then Breotan Bared the Brytenwang


far-stretching and spacious, the all-signing fang





the hearty burglar, at first
listed out the complaintes
of the weary forme, the items
necessary to remain, in the
service of its vis-a-vis,
the visne of its visna.

to tattoo a brine-thane's
brayne, one needs the proper
toomatoogooroo, the wild
Irishman's gourd o'mati,
a kuru of maetaphysickals
for a long veined chant.

there, then, to sneake off
down into the mine, carried
by canary epaulets, ear-bubbles
as silent to tympanum, as the
gruff grass is to the pyrpigged
support riggers' rolling eyes.

for whatall: gold is half-baked,
and time translucent; space, the beak
of absolute hunger ~would its sex / a
black pearl displayed halved-as-a-hex
towards graceful fingers, and food
a tempest irony uniting and untying.

fog all wraith frog their fra-flagrant fragenella!
the sweet green skin of a pear, its alum
bitter undertow, a lie, the white isles,
their prosperous pods lit by thanatosis,
thankful, and the bright preet dimmity, its
hieroglyphick faustia, let it purprossem..

hy! and what a final commodity!
the goods are slumped to their molds
and the long yellowe codgers come
ambling out skinny, and jack-knifing
through the rushes, the wan vermillion
clouds puffed there in the clowning drone.

Henry Mather Warren's Venice

Series Haikoo Informel



blod cap nota fondula
sap sud studding
\vuvam okokla prank elephants

produce Audiberti
turtle yeti
cheek horns (grass horn wren honker

underi windonk
lawn this wren
total contain havoc gentle
taboo liquid pressure

hive is long
snake like building
fermenting suspended hotties

grass tank
grass tank bonnefoy
pupa cannon malfunction

spherical video gui
gut port
"volume" Cassou

gun on avarice
rice on radar
nuggets of high ice link
for gala

dipping the exquisite toe
the ideal arboreal exumparetti
let tree-lined clogs flower the boosa

staking the holi bat faced
katzenjammer to its
labial wall supposition plate
tug string resieve tiled mooseheadfish

cinder
spawn traipse
cumuloid writan

flak
cola Lupasco
omnibuse (flowing doubled into tiers

a large glandulus viscus
of a red snaguine nob
greet girt hand thake melto

answer cadesse Chambéry
dandiprat drachm green
kerato-ledger

nasturtium no
Noilly Prat Restany
nut objection

office parricide per
potato practic
prat prat Weidle

pratepye Prester John's
pretty Prussian
pryelle superior swipe Tuxedo

undiscerning
vehement vigor
waspish wild bred worry

agrote the
alabaster ale-wife
her ass array become close

sal bicumen
she sought
irit cave under the earth

form noontide ray
sparket grosset particle
grauter porri Venyse

aricature and grot
continue elusive crypt
farmost fern gawp great grave

the shift of t
a slang
fro sorze and helle pine

lot the mermaid monger
must with peevish porphyry
read its rests sameness setting
mossy sea ascade

shoot sluicy sparry sultan
the unrouged vehicular visitant
wash its weary ponstoles

the bung flea washed
itself a honey balloon deflector
rainbowed top hat fundament

telephone
the same rock
daily




Nina Katchadourian's Airplane Lavatory Portraits




Lavatory Self-Portraits in the Flemish Style

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Junk Scratch Elevated to Junk Scratch


helix noble grandee duck
the purtiest fed huckum doon
whatever cracked tire hyssed hyre
or bedded loon deen weed or ball

ball curtsy
cute
ball tribe tapestry repute
and gum bled murk tree

kid flip sup
din wate ottle tode
the breakers fleece skinny long
the lid brack pupe all ini tweed max
mumpklin kid
baking pale tangled roots by a purple angry sea
by wan a northern dune
that skid trote the globe flame
and arms elan were whipslash stetty

on the face of it
the intranslational gauze where parroty
the idiom begs
path to kiss its herald
and trote the kid in a round candle


then bath
and skeg's ice barrel dogs
their shivering haunches
not that pickled turtle
put up to a cold statue head of
gherkins
kings a grub-like puppy
whose wrinkles are where we bed
our peppered sprinklers
the clipped mangers
for charging green mistivals

dim in the alley
for galley swooned a pie
its head spirit loftier
a theft's golden locket
the spit encased by narrowed
flower slits the arrows rung out
bells to the scrawny tendons
fed on blackest kiry drot

arrow flower bells
their feather gherkin behind
tiny sun a frog

we dots accept this
pelty
the ice barrel cluster hives
the weep of the poison honey
its changing thighs misread
to tuck
letters under sweet rust
this turtle i've kept for kid

chucked and tucked
its extra chin feeler
and said now kinfolk
take up your unwieldy
gherkin sled
and be off
in Santa's old clothes

solid sky blue cubes at sea
to navigate around
these the columns
that lift the singing engine of not, of foot
frond faced the weird singing dinners
mangled iron cave holes we fought at
with our slapping briskets and jewelry
of screeching toads
heads up

heads pushed through ob'n phillets
wot skeet th' trit up poles

ther' skoot poles
trued by yackets
their rail blood buddit
and wheels at the knees
for banging bright flowers
their hot spewing glass
to trap the undulating fluxfax wall
and dig out the valuable
eyes as boxes
for their dirty gowns
gummed and wizened

standing dumb
before its grudy bubbling
throat sac


Wednesday, June 13, 2012

SUIT (COMPOSED LITTANY)



Talkative.
Introverted.
Stubborn.
Hypersensitive.
Cynical.
Selfish.
Unselfish.
Independent.
Touchy.
Finicky at times.
Overactive.
Lazy.
Nerdie.
Original.
Cold.
Völundur.

I know you are not
alone even when I'm
alone I know you are
not alone and I laugh
and cry and my back-
bone with the sky and
the mud-city now a
foreign film

While we were
running through
the dead canal
in front of me
one full of mire
the hero, divided
against himself
the doppelganger
of German Roman-
tischism the fool on
the bicycle The
Christ figure with
stigmata in his hands
Abigail's child, Harry
Potter's Thriller Keaton
took a week to lift
the donkey into the
piano (dolly shot)
Genuine Flabby
Preludes [for a dog]
Erik Satie, 1912
Subelo un chin! Un-huh.
You might just do it.
I mean you got the
club and the flag, but
where you living?
tapping him on the
nose with it, stropping
his jaws, his chin,
trailing it back and
forth across his mouth

—then withholding it.
TOU-COI, luo-kooâ,
in/er/, bunl. down l lie
ttown l TOI E, too,
Son menton nourrissait
une lui lu- —e, on his chin
grew a Hu L beard. La Font.

Printing reproduces perfectly
the works of authors and
composers but the real presence
of a pianist

 Saxony January 8th, 1830
 [foi'-fo-rui] He wore his hair long,
 and he made a living by tuning pianos
and selling comic books from a bush,
chiroplàsto

The cat leaped to the top
 of a mechanical piano and
began to wash her face Think
deeply on the seas of milk and
Mount Meru the Omphalos-Nipple
 What Gives? At Loka-hteik-pan
Buddha as

EMPEROR GRASSHOPPER NIPPLE
giving the message
CONSCIOUSNESS = INSANE UNIVERSAL TECHNOLOGY

 The sun rose
as he left פְּנוּאֵל.
And he was limping
because of his thigh.




Daydream



A film:

The film opens with a dolly shot, the camera moving through an immense white space
toward an ambiguous blurred dark field in the distance. When it arrives, it is none other
than the young Karl Jung standing before a large spinning  Taijitu (yin-yang symbol).
Dressed as Thomas Gainsboroughs' _The Blue Boy_, he makes the sign of the horns,
the corna, or the "zwey quehr Finger" before stepping aside, allowing the the Taijitu to open
up like a pair of doors to let the movie begin.

Basic Credits:

Produced by Brian DePalma
Directed by Peter Greenaway but based on a retelling of Tinto Brass' Caligula
and DePalma's _Dressed to Kill_
Soundtrack by Ennio Morricone, w/ special Cameo Appearance of KISS

Dr. Caligubobbi: Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender, Computer Model, Others
Augustus: Ralph Richardson (computerized model)
Blonde Prostitute: Paris Hilton
Marriage Flamen: Michael Caine
Boy Bride: Justin Bieber
Hot Girl Victim: Charlize Theron
Older Undercover Centurion: Nancy Allen

Basic Synopsis:

Ostensibly, the story is Brian DePalma's _Dressed to Kill_, but Caligula replaces
Dr. Elliott, and Bobbi. In this retelling, the murderer self is brought out by various
sexual schemata. The setting is ancient Rome, but there are marble high rises, telephones,
video, robotics, etc. Pagan Rome never died, but a few midget woman and boy prostitutes
will, and a gigantic mutant "sex-shrimp" wearing leather armor, and an alien dog with the head of Burl Ives.

Strangest Scene:

There is a scene where Caligula-Bobbi holds a shot-gun (razor) wedding w/ a young male prostitute, but the only other attendants of the wedding are other dead victims in blood-stained togas. On both sides of the wedding procession collonade are 200 different giant rubber versions of intersex genitalia that all urinate wine in long stone urinals and drain into enormous solid gold swine's heads. Michael Caine plays the weird Flamen who weds Caligubobbi to his new bride. Caligubobbi looks like the Xeno-Adamic fertilization agent from Ridley Scott's Prometheus, while his bride, Justin Bieber, appears like the murderous Bobbi in DePalma's first film although, not wearing a raincoat and Rayban Wayfarers, but a toga and same, and the same blonde wig. Instead of a kiss to consummate the wedding, The Prometheus Caligubobbi takes a drop of "black semen" from a phallic totem near to them and puts it on his tongue, turning his whole body into a boiling mass of hyperplastic genitalia mutating in a kaleidoscopic and lapidary ecstasy of color and sound... This is when the ghost of Emperor Augustus appears riding atop a palanquin of Jake and Dinos Chapman's "chorus" of interconnected fuckface children, dismounts and moves to possess Justin Bieber's transmogrifying kaleido-scopic bride genitalia like a turtle to its beloved shell. The last part of the scene the Augustus Bieber bride gives birth to a tome made of scabs, which Caligubobbi opens and begins to read, but only makes the sound that Donald Sutherland made at the very end of _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_.

Music: The music is a remarkable achievement. All the songs have been previously used in 1970's crime and giallo films, but for this effort, only 17th century instrumentation was allowed. No one knows for sure why.





Izuku wa aredo (Ungo's shack)




Winfried Denk of the Max Planck
Institute Flerovium (Fl) and
Livermorium (Lv)

Chikyu
Katami to te
Hono fumi wakeshi
Omoiamari
Hototogisu


Chronic Research Unit
Deepwater Horizon
Yvonne Rainer
Documenta 11
Bock

Fukushima disaster
cloud prospects
for R&D
A Byzantine Place 
"The Internet of Things"
"mass gathering health"

Concede a blink
by rushing into action, ILCs
might bridge the gap
between the always-on
innate defenses and the
slower-but-targeted
adaptive response
beyond*

Horizon 2020 research program
The speedy digging strategy
of a humble clam may help
underwater robots stay parked
over the sea floor

Golden Dawn 
NOT IMPORTANT
IN THE BIG
PICTURE
"What could B. Wurtz?"

Untitled
Thematizes
set in a society
brothel
Elfriede's husband

Allison Macfarlane
Square Kilometre Array (SKA)
Geissenklösterle (GALEX)
type Ia supernovae
He says balsam in

missing terms
—"baryonic matter,"
mostly iron core,
with a thin veneer of rock
skewed magnetic field
the freakish diversity of worlds
starts much closer to home
assume vivid astro focus

NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING
NITN NITN NOTN INGNOTH
GNOTHIC
Simon Starling
"The Man of the the Crowd"
As a child Edgar Allan Poe
visiting London w/ Harry Lime
Buckingham to Archive:
Suite Venitienne
Ornery B.

walking in a thick fog near a cliff.
painting

Fantasy:
On Val's planet,
The lightweight
exploding stone
is honeycombed
by an apid like
species.

Exploding honeycomb
breastplates slathered
in hallucinogenesis:

Haru no yo no
Yume no ukihashi
Todae shite
Mine ni wakaruru
Yokogumo no sora

For the better part of a century,
solar physicists have been mystified
by the sun's ability to reheat its corona.
Merleau-Ponty, Alan Sondheim,
apprehension.

Kerry James Marshall.
(no period)
a project to drill into the heart

of a "supervolcano"
in southern Italy
got the go-ahead
Tarbosaurus
Un che piango, 
slop over slop


over Slothrop
demonstrating that the planet
has been producing its own
organic matter for eons
 with no help from life

We evolved to thrive
on coarse seeds, nuts,
tubers, fruit, and meat.
Toba Khedoori
You have been evil
and blue green

When all philosophy I resolve in this one act,
I may stride the leviathan seas
and they will not hold me!
Shifting from a four-legged
support system to a two-legged
one put extra stress on the legs
and vertebrae. A brief tour
of the body reveals a number
of design flaws. Ian Wallace.

Yesterday, I "caust" two
CHAR truce~ cater-pillARS
and put them in dem L shape**
up ide TAO (s)
"real materials in real space"
Undocumented
(saw bird eat them as well)
Mockingbride.

9. It looks like:




Because the cell is the basic unit of biology, researchers are increasingly trying to isolate, study, and compare them individually. At the meeting, four groups described new insights into how genomes generate diversity and what makes specific tumors resistant to treatment—all derived from sequencing DNA from individual human cells. Their reports sparked a lot of excitement about the potential of single-cell sequencing.

high-density lipoproteins
at the Serpentine Gallery
Tim Case 1984...
Onward "time waves"
University Viadrina
three species of Heliconius
Science Translational Medicine
Zen
no zen
Maria Del Bosco
Laughed; and plunging down
Eight Student Nurses.

Eighth International Congress on the Archaeology of the Ancient Near East
Peter Seeberger
the British government has enlisted the help of Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales

Deep inside
a mountain cave in
Dachstein, Austria,

an international team
of researchers showed off
a new suit that simulates
the challenges

that await
human visitors
to Barsoom.
Helga Matura.

subliminal.
Annette Schavan.
Adlène Hicheur.

Infants' Flexible Heads Go Back Millions of Years

Late-Stage Grad Students Want Nonacademic Careers
The Fluid Mechanics of Walking With Coffee
Time. Causality. Hobo.

Europe is setting its sights on a solo run to Jupiter.
Right.
"ALL THESE WORLDS ARE YOURS—EXCEPT EUROPA."
"I was invited to do a piece in the foyer of the Utah Museum
by the director, E.F. Sanguinetti."

Ocotper EL
(Chirst's Bruden)

 Chestnut Eats Horse
The next transit isn't until 2117.

"supersolidity"

Around the world, just a few ancient forests are known to have been preserved under ash. The Wuda tuff flora—the first discovered in Asia—is remarkably accessible and thick and contains a puzzling group of extinct fernlike plants. Protecting the remaining tuff bed long enough to study it will be no small feat, however. The region's economy depends on coal. Mining has already claimed parts of the fossilized forest, while excavations to extinguish coal-seam fires have destroyed other swaths.

Mobile Ballast Water Treatment Test Platform


Who wages war with a dark brown gift
surely knows the average weight 
of an average coccolithophore.


Her is socks
were of deerskin.












"When seeking to call attention to any troubling issue, one key maxim to consider is that of the physician: 'first, do no harm.' 


** Eva Lake








Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Benque Tikal and Anonymous Alice












Maggots, and all things that a blackbird wants
-Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton




if blood and custard
comingle in the nonsense
breadth

a green bull's heart
would spell no death

anonymous
the cherimoyan gem
facets
the grinning loop stall
fen

and if the hydraulics
of custard
should work
the limbs

then the jeweler's craft
is skin
a soft bullstone emerald
enlists a copium
to a hollow gall pursue
its wings of lace
perused by all

a green bull's heart
with the tincture of Tingitidae
feeding from the pith
of its inner walls

gall gem at root
a cavalier cluster
a tidy tingle
FIAT JUSTITIA
(just grab and bake)

alchemy is all
alike itself

hummocks
and "Ssoffar"







Sur Je Le Cou Inkons

Sur Je Le Cou Ton Ton

Sur Je Le Cou Non Non

Sur Je Le Cou Von Von

Sur Je Le Cou Pon Pon

Sur Je Le Cou Don Don

Sur Je Le Cou Kon Kon

Sur Je Le Cou Bon Bon

Sur Je Le Cou Mon Mon

Sur Je Le Cou Fon Fon

Poetry the Same Sore God Which Watches Over All









(bucking and snorting like a woman)

and yet this whatever still moves
a grey-haired spider in the loom
the grey-head scissor tail is the handsome
remain and go down bouncing through
the spiral secret stone staircases chat
and out into the lawns looking up pert
into jumbles of high blue gravel scope

this too remains pushed into flesh-less apt
maps these actors only veins the spiders
riding birds in a flurry of yarns and webbing
good bad sissy make shuttle cock go boom
stone hand dappled in the code of Morse
in the wire of glare in the days of Rome on a
zeppelin of hair the gladiators are relieved
to find their cats at home nipping and mewling
the milk-fringed shallow gorgon bowls
and chains

waking up jaws furred in participatory semi-precious
trouble the den of thieves whose Apollinaire
sieves flowers which dust with photon reason
and the lift for terrible bandage wonder kiss crony
by the oaken flume you both viewed
the transparent crimson fungi and
if external lungs will raise a feud perfume
then a hawk at the top of the obelisk
in June can piano the loom

for crystal beard hair whatever can move
down into the piano loom to loose
through the pink cotton hearths
that dot the sparse rooms spare
armadillo snake arms to croon
the traditional french in English garden
Cardinal Riche In Lieu point partieu ouit ouit
and send its clear dabloons or tears
the Spanish ships the main sails
urged by reddest X the darkly
crumpled deer its snout snooshing
on the wine golden sharks teeth
to pepper and

by a curious chair would ride
the augur with wheels on
continuous incline to view
the clincher clinical clinamen heir
the ex-men in the park
obscured in clusters
of saffron cellphones

let their nipples
be a lesson
the hovering robotic totems
over Venice

where fate's vatic scissor tail
holds the handsome smooth head
feeling just bonzo from
Felix's mouth

lobe birthswallow










Monday, June 11, 2012

phæism shake sar far par, dame tailed the schok







at firth set fey eyra
Heshvan ecus felis
tenor levitation phase
ajkin the runt tits groomer
edge assumptive eyoty
feyrant sepal orange noon
χιονέας κατὰ σαρκός 

τὸ δὲ πᾶν καλὸν ἐς σὲ καταρρεῖ
stellar artive famafu
chive taurus lappa pass ligand
si sui leikeze mood y golores
lantern shaped e°kgryllai                     
os ha eros cimong toccatina
un ftheht yrusu
πολλὸν ἐμεῦ κρέσσων

κυανόστολα καὶ πλατάγησον 
gamorticele naephysi lebal
ha toob igah gnieuges
the red-necked tub
smooth ankle of its beak  ubsmaol
to tut anod in Carter's
ot drager roops
ἔγρεο δειλαία

τί δὲ πλέον εὔχεαι ἐλθεῖν
the ludd guts gnagflo
ainuce ylba lot tzut tzib akhmoot
and noist-netted ramei nicayh
henny-cornered ohce a penny its sian
now tae steeletonk a minor plu
og taira terce it egnere tit sguh
θέρεος τί τοι ἁδύ

πάντα γὰρ ἱερὰ ταῦτα 
 Zygoena  rits faced so skitsond
shitegrene SOUNG ronaemed
cluricaune boy tse sun oitaro bear meat
epan  tae sutir come haemos
idspeed od aehcart hoema
 καὶ ἁδέασεῦ δὲ ἕκατι

ἐς πόσον  δειλοὶ καμ 
detterger ilawi gey ralutit
bark hands thetter mauling rug
the annotated moose an gan igahpose
agem eilli gem he nagilli ro sleeprits hsigral
aelp ladopitna the tsemmur luam
άτως κεἰς ἔργα πονεῦμες