Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Fibrous Effigy Colluder

tiny typer
traking vacuum clogs
this alpine meadow hogwash
holy sign-your-eating
to wear the wooden shoes
of flying dutchmen

a lion bites my hand in the dream
we track the doubled kindness on crust of green
like a sky above the pie

the tiny pink fanged grub-masks
the tiny typers
take them under the green pie crust

ants whose unity head
the hoisting of the soft dangerous mask
by the hard dangerous typers

the greek letter
with teeth
is decorated now
with pink corn

and lions with manes
of pink corn

Monday, August 29, 2011

goofing on Magritte in the Studio

Hyperbolic Pre-Twenties Humbaba Yaga Garaga

like his horns
were two pink fleshy warts
would say

nalama im slopane
sony bugbear the nipple wart
a laser carving

like her horns
were two big fleshy nipples
would say

cock wheel ourobouros
come in lab
the milk white albino labia
used as brake pad
wee wee tom sawyer

like his KOJAK mask muttered
rubber cock horns spritzing coffee
rubber panzer
like a dry mount cello phane
oblong diamond boxes
herd whore horde

ordnance applied
to toxic gold
goo gods runny
under parasols

hot wax
faux poly

Saturday, August 27, 2011

To an Armenian Dancer

in connecticut

these burnt adolisques now charcoal
figures laid this and that
among the tiered array

the liquid helium
unlatent retardaire
moving from the compressor
the collapsulator of matta

matta 1
matta 2
matta door
totem robotics

12000 charcoal nude sculptural adolisques
laid on stainless steel tiers

their song
their cryo

is the airlessness
of fate

vosdanik adoian

come dancing
into the world abstraction

gas plume pen
1948 suicide

barn burn
or paint fen

placing the broken neck
back into the nous
back into the ought
of mania

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Genie Ruteni sur-Rance

the hollow thong-
                          |-bell frank-
pebble bust
where each pebble

in thong we thing
ball flank hollow flung
its quarrel to the arrow string

arrow head to bell
but between tiny tip and grey
dull arc


in our thong
a pebble

a piano chin water pebble fountain
a salamander's candelabra gills

frogmen swimming out
carrying the glowing brain coral


by surface runnel

each buth
or jelly

holding thong
holding seizure

Monday, August 22, 2011

Painting Less On Air Than Water..

feathered seal sphinx limousine
in dust distance would you shed
a brass eye hinged on an oceanic purge,
for twin cherubs enact your nostrils
through sino-tibetan limbinesses
flaring many trumpets.


for if a rock then gives a flower,
your mirrored table must reveal
a map on hovering buttocks,
a mouth in oval singing


the striped stick
replaces the beard of mystery.
the lamp of love
goes flat against the dense wringing
of day. Diogenes. sad.

in trousers. huge.
like a doll
of the quarry.
newspaper boat for hat.

orange sweater, fat.
the carved rock
will never be a cube again,
but may pose
in the corona of dog
wild lime fog green nimbus
its fountain shedding heirloom shimmering
against obsidian obelisks
these wet theorbo


babes loosed
on ambling globular
typhlosolar vessels.


mechanitis polymnia.

in hallowed dread,
diva fausta,
ombra adorata.
se croyait un peu,
fecunditis Crescentini.

like toad chairs
for turn toes
before the velvet rumpus
and the exalted return.

a supreme art
of ornament,
the seashore sky
at Mergelina.

an island
at midnight.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Trap Vapors In Pavement, Troupe Require, Loupe Din Joule

fac dinell

for in them
the foreign

thinly forged
gumbs be yond
to stretch a pink spinning wheel
between each teeth

how dim
the javelin
how thin
its dusk
to fly

flies scattering.
the economics.
the piercing shadow,

fac dinell
loof a aloo

weep to pencil
skin made to a burning
in cool stone the silent eye
a garden
its round shell covered up

only the light
only the light returns
from leaves each sun
they leave

radiant and radians
black sequelae union
or unit's favor

arc echo locus succor rank gnarl
to run

uru nall
fel noc vul

hold nose garden spherical
pinch forehead hook
to enter
yellow stem neck if snap

brain hover
before mist

diamond cube
bohong vala

Monday, August 15, 2011

this weekend in the studio with Kara

the thing i am working on

Kara's piece (her painting my drawing)

Poem For Mina Loy

for a slippery anvil to burst the pit
rise upon the day
in a coupe de ville headache
advil, the hat
the white chalk hat carved such and such
and that
pedigrees mainly detract
or plaid
or vans padding around the main frame

'this is the mainframe of my discontent'


A Poem for Arthur Cravan

Mina waited, and waited
and the breath of trees
and the sleeping V's
from Swabia were wanting
fists fuming like sugar doves
upon the valley of its nose

just old clothes is King Arthur
a little girl
now older
milking a cow
rattles on her shoulders

the long caress
before the advil
of catttle

if Trieste now yoked to a thermal bottle
we go to Mexico
mixed icons in a bag

pale fu manchu
all foam is mandarin
and the rock
which sits up to beg
looks just like

a philosopher

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Hyleth Peers Onto Fiercely Washed Stone

imboscata's grandeur
the cool stone-almost blue
the smooth and rising
rounded wedges
the ceiling whose
deformed determination
no inspection to those
who arrive
a bubble ancient
and pierced
itself an echo
of the lower chamber
the burning am bush
its leaves the city
for the integer
the pactitious galley
where change
as vigidity in others
lays a shadow
like an egg
the cracked ulterior
poecile, poematic
drunken snails in ink like blood
fry and rosty the black viga heavy
broth whords
liege poustie
their felt girdle faces
a fall among cultivars
and borders
drawing up
the sweet scarce
fen nominal
in all hearing kythed
by a peerless hostage ship


to the exiled

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Is Irronism Paranoia?

All Victory! O Lie!
All Victory! O Lie!


La doublure, Janet.
Lord Auch, Adrien.

In this single glory, the star in the forehead,
the compass in the lamp, the genie with the shell
of a hermit crab...


the book of breathing.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Pi Chassis Vall. Clope Inding. Undine Fluellum.

fondling macadamia
the nuts line up
in the exercise yard
our tow lines wither
the theater of cruelty
hiss no more
whose courteous stump
requires a snake's tongue
a magenta logic

whirling whirling
dervish electron eyebone
its scab company overmonkey
and into crystal palp replications
each fair unit continuum a tone

atone prodigal
and be done

magenta dune fair
tents held in silence
the shadow smeared palms

wild hall that flows
sometimes open
sometimes closed
architecture as unpredictable
as land scop
this icon
as 89 configurations

like a dull rocket (passing through successive halos of ferrofluidic compression seals)

grabbin' allure
like pongsquad's
como camera'd
bobwhite bubalus

the kind quail
for hereafter

who let that thing
in here

silk cactus pillow grows
from sky blue ceramic head board planter
the bed
the mattress
a slab of transparent aloe
on which an iguana

and nods

its head inside a burnished
small and golden
geodesic globe

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Pretty Lewd Gibber

Is it a question of informatics
over any given desktop?

Or Furniture construction
over ferns?

Is it the valorous and stupid languor
of pink wallpaper bearing baby blue
snowflakes, who, having lost their
actual physical individuality
replace such with pattern,
or the divisive duality
whose true message need only
the ubiquitous O.D.


There is no normative anything
in a singularity, only the inarrtial veyngloirry
of the various cults of digression

pi va goilgar eth vironym

It is sad to transcend the soil
only to be reminded of the soil's own
transcendence of thought, and its construction
no different than thought
and that old cliche'

"the mulch of desire"

I'm not a "joiner",,
I'm a master-level assembler
which is roughly equal to

nothing, the
glimmer of covolvulex groin plates
under a banana shaped sun
or single cyclopian squintilla

oh moot mot
oh galley slaves
of Gethra Nabu

and it goes on from there
with some people shopping for windows
and drinking ice tea
on a hot summer day..

"Pab" founded "Sic"
golden djinn
terrestrial tragedy
monster goat

drinking water by the seaside
salt onus of topless spindler lucky famoose
and the mute conversation's
stoned peacock geodes

alabaster shoe horn,
what image commemorates
my ill-fitting prostheses?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Nick Carter Is Dead!

Four o'clock in the morning.
Rummaging through materials associated with Fantômas
came across this work with an essay on Philippe Soupault's
"The Death of Nick Carter" and decided to set it in:

I guess the kind of echoes I am interested in with this would come from more contemporary quarters. While Soupault ignores the criticism of his communist bedfellows in the Surrealist movement, and begins to look at the figure of the African American, he meanwhile is involving himself in the literary activities of the internationalist fascist avant-garde.. I'll have to staunch a chuckle here, but look at an excerpt of Jake and Dino Chapman's most recent show whose updated figures of these silly tired perennial debates are actually starting to look cool, the way P.S.'s original genre parody was trying to look, and arguably was, the writing anyway. Nick Carter, found dead outside an insane asylum.

Now what I really find interesting about this show might surprise you. The thing that is really interesting to be is this sort of gnosto-reflexive nod in the dioramatization of the gallery in the round as tableau; ie: Statues are looking at pictures and other statues, and we are too. This isn't new. I can't find the particular castle or schloss I'm looking for, but I've seen images of statues looking in mirrors, holding up paintings, light fixtures etc.. 

Representations gazing blindly at other representations.

The muteness.
The silence.
of infinite black space,
the nice nazi.

And then there's the curious detail:

American actor Eddie Constantine played the title roles in the French-made spy films Nick Carter va tout casser (1964) and Nick Carter et le trèfle rouge (1965). In one curiously circular and self-referential scene, Constantine as Carter enters a house where he finds a large collection of Nick Carter pulp magazines and other Nick Carter memorabilia. Both films are unconnected to the Killmaster book series.

and then there's that stanza from Bernard Bador's _Blindmen make love at Noon_:

And then in Sans Souci palace
roots, lianas and stumps enshrine
the spinning eye of the poet
who perished while cross-breeding clones


Tuesday, August 2, 2011


air dominion pain?
thumb thug caterpillar
its sparkling gelatine accordion ion'd bonnless

caudal simmer frizane
these artificial gas eons
only travel in infinitely compressing

obsidian stairs flank
the enormous obsidian mask
and green flames roil out
through the eyesockets
pushing particolored doves
just springs in sacs
with streamered levers

and nudity
the pony express
gives a symbol


then the customized figs
are laid out

long pink figs
and put under
of ultraviolent

a donkey wears the headress of an indian chief
but smokes a calabash
etched with murgor and blum

Obose Hucculency

vauncing bitter luf
and veyn zing
whore after father speaker
handle lewdness synne
and prosperous

inflatable spherical building
the homage to Sir Isaac Newton
but we crawl blue monkeyed
up through transparent columns
into our fiash
the articulating lantern arms of its sigh
eye young
where the rain beats in on the tom tom

fleet host vauncing to battle
ringlet sky soil
our embittered torques to scop
in possible mercies
vaulty vaumbras
their coding valvulas becoming entwined
rudolf the antlered cinnamon jellybean
leads adolf greensnout
up through layers
of icing'd jawbones
to see the great cronk
that cube of investibuled domainery
scribbled with grylooblahtoadian


ongu ard
monch hapi tunn
glass knight detaches dorsal balloon toad's
neon oversoul

rummaging the ham
the distinct digital
patterns the final frequency