Monday, September 30, 2013


Kirnberger! Kirnberger!
Tuourminoh passes thru wind fire and water
to the sounds of flute and kettledrum,
with a gentle accomplanimaninaniwahdesukado
from pianissimo TROMBONES!
Rameau's nephew
is carrying huge apples
in his chest.

Who will we save? These genies have brightened the air with solitude,
and torn down the curtains from a single hoary eye..
Let them all suffer
in ecstasy as we have,
the poem anvil of infinite light
whose song like a laserblade cuts the air
with the hoofbeats of locusts
in long purple hair,
and the golden eyes of tyrants
softened by mystic love.

for a time they waited by the sagging dolls,
put your head on my shoulders,
put our shoulders together,
put our star
to the anvil
and pound it
flat as fish.

And in Etruria, in the days of X and Blondie...

OUr shrine is assembling itself, a body like ten-thousand bells
peers from behind the mountain, a lamb in spider's clothing,
and the columns of temple are engines, like trees of fire,
and are musical, and the bowl in the Naos
directs our temple's song
deep into the valley
where the strong country
cover their ears
and plot heinous acts against us,
but we are as silver fishes
darting among featureless
white boxes,
white foxes
in shoes of pink straw.
Ten Thousand white-foxes will gather
in an iron canoo in the sky,
and on that day
it will rain
pink straw sandals.

bound by the snake
our love was gentle
but visionary
our thoughts drifting like castles of smoke
tethered to the wide brims of our lily hats
upon which we sunned
in the lowing river,
and green robotic frogs
clicked and eeephooed
braided in our glare.

let crenellated yellow glass spheres
house nudes like dew underwater
for NEMO
each glyph
has a slanted guitar
or that flower that blindly flows
any over awl
FDR raining PARMA

Glaswego fur dawn sputa..
Great blue prima.
Great simia!
our green ears are edged with fuscioa
and listen
listen to the croack
and brupe
or staors.

Comely upon any canto iron ferguson stovepipe
and lily headed jewel
they ain or stain it
and take the albino gorillo
to the snow-line to release him
fall from an iron canoo..
and they pass back fefore the twisted circular tree
as if the moon
had tentacles
reaching all the way.

The Krell had an extensive entertainment complex
designed before they went mad
with stupidity, caused by their unconscious worshipping of it,
which they saw as fun, but which absorbed any intellectual resources
which might have helped their planet become upwardly mobile
in the hierarchy of the great work where the least of accomplishments
is planetary flagellums modulated from the polar axis
and a force field, and synthetic meteorology
in all senses of that term.
The poorest of theories
is already an eye.

all the whiskey in heaven.


I cant phi pi theta delta johnson for ruminata ata aka...

A portrait of our dream government's breakfast protocols.

And all the REST.
all the R.E.S.T.

The 80's laugh were sposed to be in
well well.
You're aplace.
how softly they repose outside my house
Octavia, I have come out of my tent,
and every rainbow
is clothed in snakes, or goblins.


Every spectator is Cleopatra.

Every spectator is languid fern queues approaching the exquisite corpse of narrrrrrrrrrrrrrrra


I keep chewing on my principles.

"I tried to think with this thing."
"Fire, Run!"

They were not ready for global high-speed stratospheric rollercoaster transport!
Henibol, they can barely say your name!
Now look at them, like you, they are all gibbering in their llama tablets
and playing "Betsy, Stain your Gumb Helmets"

For awhile I was sacred incandescent matter, then I became liberal, then, I was arrested,
then I became an anarchist while in prison.

It's mind way wormed the hide-away
Its mined whey world the mind a hay
I did it
Whined May.
or the High-way.

I swish yude pute a foo more songs on the juke bucks.
my coarse hart floweth clover..
clover pesto.

i need to tinkle now.
Chicago is all over the lights.
in Japan.
with Kirnwalter.

Everything is here and is
being burned slowly and is enough
for ventral belly louvres
to pour purple clover honey down
honey down
honey down
burning honey feather

Originally, this episode was about Upton Sinclair, and the Hispano Suiza affaire,
but then CLURG foot ANTONINUS
slaved toad images to orgy sun flame baskets.
go all over.

Its the least I could do.

I don't want to work for you, but I will be your slave.

I'm looking for something outside myself, but I always keep getting
in the say.


russian male orchestra.
Texas rodeo.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Sleeping while standing Marie-blood drama of fur

for Terayama Shuji, and

unpublished letter songbook
Lunar Eclipse - Let Ao in Racecourse
While blowing wind - Let Ao in Racecourse
Let's blue in the Racecourse
Ah, Wilderness - Horse Racing Threepenny Opera
Sleeping while standing Marie-blood drama of fur
Aphorism of -413 words of handfuls
Someone colander so the home
Abandon the Book, get out to town
girl poems - Recommended runaways
Conquest of Happiness - back street life version
Upside-down world history monster Den
Quotations in the pocket
Sports edition back street life
Jungle square Tyrone
I want to see a movie slowly
I stopped for a while the Earth
upside-down movie theory
Literary history upside-down black hair Hen
Recommendation of running away from home - modern youth Theory
There grassland losing horse
Hunchback of Aomori prefecture
Someone colander so the home - not like an autobiography
Blue woman Theory - upside-down love Lecture
Conquest of Happiness
Upside-down world history Heroes
Wonder Library
Museum magazine upside-down blue moth Hall
Longing for home to horse racing
Cruise Pollen

*all lines taken directly from's
automatically translated  title listings
for Shuji's Terayama's poetry books.

**In the late 1950's, before Terayama ever became famous as an avant-garde film maker, he shook up the austere and serious world of the Japanese tanka poem which had not been radicalized like the haiku form already had, even though people like Masaoka Shiki, Ishikawa Takuboku, Yosano Akiko had attempted to modernize the form. For a wonderful evocation of the complexities read the inset chapter by Steven C. Ridgely:


sweet buffalo pig
your elastic arachnid zeppelin abdomen
is already being stretched by the hurricane
into a clear transparent soap bubble noodle
a condom for a green merelephant's anglering antlerlantern
the text whose two nameless green vertical leaves
cover your eyes
green harlequin eskimo buffalo pig
your elasmo-branchidae tomato pelts are levitating
the goo of song like a staircase from your spine
when trembling aquatic arachnid zeppelins
are extruded your soapy trunk becomes denuded

sweet buffalo pig
with rice noodles

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Rog's Rant on Desencadenaves

Why art thou traiecticius! Is thy descerado an avásimo
Of such malmirikas conprobandos that the järkiperäinen ingerirà
Of fångas pèlerait what was once so déminât?
Is there no clypeatas to fände, no discruciandas to décréter?
Yet have my enganensia for thee been harhautus—
Nout to thy trøjen with punctuaverat squamerai,
The upravit’s conserte äveriäät yottagramme a kotoperäinen
For pralki but what thy chiquassions could goottirock.
Autocandideresti— though this dolabrata margfaldur saapuneet, once schnurren to indignàreu
An évoluez visredzīgāko adfles, thine and mine,
Be urbicidi more quinquefolium, more kinadek kópija
Than a  pȁūnov flopper’s-cidonion filled with donzelles
‘Mid its own sótt of oddfellows' caneo—
Zogt-zurück, that my arrischierò perfazer their zyeutés may začénaha.

Friday, September 27, 2013

Menander, Fragment 761.

"Sandalbird, Sandalbird," before I slept you chanted.


At first I could not accept;* here now the cat*
has brought the memory,* syllables as fresh; /
cloaked in other sounds* in stead /, as every sound
and, image is* wandering /the palacial\ irony of the pallette
eternal# as dread, and though 'nearly asleep
the name( awoke


The afternoon was mended,
and in my old gorgon's sack,
a new toy:


peri-pawed and luscious:
collision, combination,
a phantom of Democritean
terminology, algebra
born in Abdera,
of the philosophers,
and whose airs were said to bring

The two French sackings of Zaragoza,
para, y, Goya, painting an ox-head
for the River Po, Hannibal staring down
from the Alps, but Goya only mentioned
in Le Mercure de France, and no one
ever equal to the profane illumination.

How golden, then, is this statue
of Saturn devouring its Bellmeritical
la poupée?

The cudgel fight
is a word, then, for the sack
peripalaxis; a palatial light:

Hannibal with the head of an ox,
the head of Goya; Gannibal, Cannibal,
Satur-Sutra-Sura-Any-Baal, with the head
of a lantern with fifty wings of scimitars;
San Seraphim w/ a Napoleontic goiter
whistling piously from the neck, &

Chelm and Abdera holding hands
in the moonlight:
The King of Sardinia's botanical garden
still stands.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

A Letter from the Sculptor on Schandmantel Park

at first the park is square~ then
             at two corners
                                  to make a diamond~ a
                  diamond~ a
                                    parallelogram~ a
                                                            non-parallelogram diamond
and then a pool is set in~ an
                                         almond~ a
                                                          mandorla~ and
                                                                                 scattered around
the almondorla
are six blue granite X's
not prose,
nor poem,
but letters,
from a sculptor
                                               and these letters are the benches
strewn now with finches, larks, pigeons, and doves~ and
                                                                                  who knows specifically
why these
particular birds
have decided
to use the human furniture?

each of the six X's has six key holes which are plugged with six keys,
and they can be turned but not removed, and some wind up a mechanism,
which renders musically, a thick tolling
which rolls from a single port in one of the X's crotches
the X's are an abstract vision
of the colportage
of Johann Philipp Siebenkees
there are also fountains //

the largest of the fountains is also a grotto
an iron maiden (made of iron)
whose open doors support the head and shoulders
and form the walls of the grotto
whose spikes either spray or drip alternatively
within the cool dark naos
and in the center of that enclosure or space there is an object
which shelters the drain

a malachite choke pear
opened up
and standing like a tripod
whose oracle is a key-head
made like three heads of screaming birds
and somehow the stone is

the other fountains are spread around
the other fountains are an abstract vision
of the colportage
of Johann Philipp Siebenkees

there is a Spanish donkey
whose stirrups are ladles
which catch the rolling water
which falls from the peak (the spine)~ and
not like a book's, but like a roof
and they jerk periodically
splashing the water randomly
over its tiled basin

there is a Judas chair
whose pyramid has been raised up
atop an obelisk
and is a crystal~ which
lights up at night
and the water pours through hieroglyphs
which change over time
through a system of layered plates~ and
the base is a tripod, of course
like a stool, or a chair

there are twelve Scavenger's daughters
lined up like a hollow snake
and the mist which flies from the rings
makes rainbows some days
when the light hits it right
or you stand certain in the angle

and there is an enormous Knee-splitter
whose spikes pass continuous thin streams
from one downward facing spike
to a corresponding upward facing one

there is also a Head crusher
whose cap is large enough to stand under
and whose edge produces a curtain of water
which opens sometimes
so that a person can step inside
and take a shower of silence
but remaining mostly cool and dry
invisible mostly in the interior

the cap for the big~ and
nonexistent head
is a dome
surfaced with mirror

and somewhere in the park
are two plaques:




Tuesday, September 24, 2013

GO VIDA! (no more possible rhetoric to hide this)

thousands of small glass morphine ampules 
are worn like a heavy beard by a tall blonde 
amazonian woman nude riding a horse 


her noble black and white steed 
piebald bears a pattern of birds bursting 
across the continents the tiny bottles 
aren't really morphine they
boil light up they are morphing 
into butterfly thoraxes full of pixie dust 
they are syringes full of people dripping 
there are waxy scab buildings appearing 
on the equid arabesque continents 
there are birds hanging out of my skin 


her smooth body is a plum claw 
girded by golden robotic snake tusks 
with leprachaons in the little cockpits 
wearing devil masks carved from 
green hallunciatorii fungusts

leprachaon piloting golden snake tusk
leprachaon piloting golden snake tusk 
godiva hair is your nude bulbous nose
a peccary odalisque analog

does your fungust mask speak 
through forehead butterfly vagina

luminous clicking mandible scimitarsal 
do you wear lantern earrings swarming
morphing godiva

the chewy winter lace draws neer
the lepus gowns are lowing 
in the meadfolds 

your rabbit amoeba nipple fedoras 
are wandering
across my hoarse meat

your elbow skin nipple fedoras tufted in 
white rabbit butterfly horses are skittering
on elbow nipple skid plates 
and where the skid plate sparks there is 
a leprachaon, a cyclops rabbit nipple
and a small chocolate stain

there is a lovingly rendered cyclops 
Godiva nude, a leprachaun godiva rabbit
Eeh, what's up Doc?

your glass morphine fedora ampules 
make a heavy beard, curly golden 
snake tusks whirling are weird 
they move inside your white furred 
rabbit tusk

a leprachaon, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry 
to pull this meat out so abruptly in front of you
the fungal meatloaf of butterfly godiva 
its nipples squirting hot enamel
for a time
alice and godiva were one
in the glass ampule elevator
as dropped ever deeper into the long 
well of morphing

and as the hollow glass caterpillar horse hooka lit the way
Alice's pert young fedoras revealed their first cyclopses
riding a rabbit furred rabbit-skull like a horse 
Godiva dreamed of curly tusk fangs
growing like an enormous molten nimbus 
around her head illuyminathing great swathes 
of the underwoarldtward whaorldt

long thin purple godiva strangs 
strands ampules pop
butterflies cover the ears
the leprachaon control panel
is a mask
a golden horse vagina sprouting 
caterpillar cilia perhaps 
blind judgement is a hooka

and life's blind caterpillar a horrid leprachaon
armored in golden fungus
and puppeting beauty's godiva

maybe the beautiful puppet
puppets the super ego
Chaos is rabbits, and butterflies.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Tuned Housing Grille

*music by Chris Hanis

with its jaunty red and white speckled enamel cap
you cd barely see the pale blue flesh beneath
quivering w joy
and the deep blue
transparent side pipes must've died twenty years ago
wd ya send the whiskey to Room harpsichord camera
oddly whipping bava help yourself
this bed runs all the way to Kongisberg
they never finished the karst family
with a hook on either side,
the umbilical prince

you cd say Stacey folded chocolate Maya
in the great protein space of way.
'like heather from a joey's sack'
Stacy wd always say, her wonder moving through chocolate
and into late medical philosophy, disco,
phallic beasts of innocence and marriage
to the will of myth
and commerce.
a messenger of God's will
in lingerie.

You like Roebuck.
You will take Roebuck.
And your Girlskin father will bear the heavy horns,
now kiss my metal hand,
young Girlskin...

they move speed
in the heavy hula

they take speed
in black hula hurtles

black lincoln
takes bass
her crow well

odd awake thing
you do not roll
odd awake thing
we hang you squirming
in the mirror

periscope cries out to sod
let my pale face lantern the lace of beetles
which undulate under the fog
and growl you whole to hole
where the tongue laddered whale
lays cane to building well
well cane black
black cane immediate
take your twisting mouth remains
to doubt
and spread them
who suss sparks a bag
of gorgeous blue diamond ankles

no incidental cease to pepper
her spray
in the thin lion which course the latter
the missive's massive surceacle creds
the street whose chair
a changling
goes all bread
all full blue sitting sphere
come again
in my rotund window
sparkling anything
about the stone's whole curse possible found
its thickening licklings
do disturb curdling orange fountains
pheasant's purple wattles retract

deft sky you cannot embark to parrots
more skinny hearing
the eleven worlds broadpanel display
a ubutton cameo'd for ivory encapsulating the hefty ice
in armors and amores

lace ivory cup
for pink ice plug
their daughters get taller
their parrots retract
their ping pong is over
and the earth a sac

imagine the beatitude
of never flying again

there is always such music in your rectum
the brightest babel of cold black golems stoned

roses frame the eternal door
where the path of gold dust looms me on
if i were a green velvet caterpillar
and you my suede prosthetic shoe tiara platinum numbing bone

i'd taste your weevil in the sprocket
where the wicker spreads its warm
theatrical bathroom

there are carved wooden helmets
fitted especially
for these balloon head fictions

Race again to the form it takes.
Ruse the gain in the forlorm gape.
Blue grapes dither dinghy.

The sturdy Buddha knew me.
I knew where he kept his grumpy mother.
Sometimes we rowed among
the coward fish
and barking stones, we carried clubs
of fireflies.

Engflatable chimera arms must be delivered
to the aquatic lion weevil bachelors
my fat yellow gem
my fat blue gem
are mating
my bachelor butler
is a mating butler
my mansion

o laun
o naker
o drown ding

The clue is not violence itself
but the yellow mandarin tongue of knowing
knowing nothing
nothing all
what is it to violence
a popsicle
a gras?

i commence
the bachelor butler hair weevil
is with me
i commend thy yellow suede head couch
to the hugs
how bright the joey
how golden
ghoul heather smell toast erections

He called me a "Monster Potter"
Clay was flying I can tell you.
I could bake a whole room in Alaska!

Tips for wit.
Don't be a tongue,
be an RK..

Parnassus knows many fleeces always invisible 
the lavender mummy of syntaxis wills 
naked steps as offerings, moments 
as cryptic ritual asyl

In silence before the journal of space
I rendered time a mood
a colored quotient
I looked hard upon the shifting and boiling psa
it is not too early to caress flowers
where dusk has led a purple magnetic dust
into a scimitar dancing machine
my dead arm epaulets
gold kissing curdles
the mandrake

we baked you a pet
to begin with
now the carved and wooden smoke
has closed its mirror
to regret
there are hinges and pinions
if you dance between the loons

Property is not theft or murder.
It is echo.
Self is Echo.

I desired access to your properties.
Though I properly
have none of my own?
Wd Owl take frame and fold it?
Enter mongola with a clean heart,
a bright ear, a hearth-like back
full of eyes.

We gave Dionysos our last goddamned dollar.
Now look at us, forced back into the ring after all these years
of remaining mad.

My name is Goblem.

 have awoken trapped in dragon's blood

One is physical the other metaphysical but the riot mudra of merdre must earth the is as armor evermoreoveringravid

(midget duchamp vampire dog)

the ancient mandala of journalism


Egon Cyclops Nose Tie (Disney Mutiny)