Monday, December 29, 2014

Beautiful Fairy Gore


i feel it

there is another black
and another
beyond this

a cosmic pessimism
a mysticism of a world-without-us
which serves
as a canvas
in the world-for-us
to describe a daimonics / demonics
of inscriptive mechanicity
or spirituality
spirit as an agent
action and non-action
as an instrument
both formed unformed
forming or unforming
change is the body
of a blind and careless divinity
a god-thing
which is a poem
that we inhabit
and which forms our
which is its habit
its costume
and nudity
as a poem
or limit-thought

is its own irony
and tragedy
into a self-effacing alterity
a clown vorstellung
that only philosophers seem to see
only a clown can see
another clown
only the pen
notices the animal
is a line
which draws itself
onto the page
of absense

we must improve ourselves
before our definitions

for within the world for us
there is a world against us

a savage planet
more sweet than life
in life

the clown turned inside out
before even being

what should it know?

the malediction
of beautiful fairy gore?

the stark souplex of atmospherics
in correlation 

for its siecle
a rotted hide
of repeating political phonographs
an african dreyfuss
in someone's now mad colony 
trapped between dying seas

why must adonis
show his wart
in every photo?
why must adonis
the woman
always be a tank
and a threat?
some product
or colony?

cave people
rule the air.

so hear this
take it
take up the succulent leg of grasshopper
which is the violin of vampirism
and do with it 
for Schopenhauer
and Satanic Cinema 
will approve
do not mettle
in the equality of pagans
and christians
in a roaming lost

remember all words

do your best
your beast
and blessed
be said
by the world
to the world
not of this earth
our planet
of itself
not own

What is Modern?
Is the Future?

Wildly echo
its robotic chess pieces
which cover the knight's armour

i implore you
crotch tarantula oceanus

sit down and have a smoke

stand up
and have a baby

be at peace
in the eyes of the lord



jazz gas

jazz glass


Wednesday, December 24, 2014

glitch mudra

fox burrowing owl

languid fo'c's'le
syncope flown for vulpic pelage
the hessian hat of its single cell
lain courtly upon
the nanometric occam
its concept made white or black or yellow
or blue and placed in a country of the same

to disappear
the prey
its watchful mǫkkurkálfi
this order plain in mess a camouflage
a campelagian vestygian gondola
strung tautly as viola

its clear drum head
to house a plasma of snow
its sentence wife
in the covenant of husbandry

thou art nude and changed strangely
thy body is alchemically united
with conspiracy
and on the dune of high noise you pell down on
with your comapnions
your gray fox
and raccoon doge

specific green teeth
are milky jade
in the crotch
of a tree

and its truest word
turns like the neck
of a strigiformes

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Two Comments I Made on Kenneth Goldsmith's Facebook account (POOC)

murphy's sea-fairy
never seize fairly..

whatever's will
is happening..

the dirt rose up
and became mad(e)..


'no ideas'
was a good idea
at least for some in the animal
and plant kingdom (for awhile)..

'some ideas'
was a good idea
at least for some in the animal
and plant kingdoms (for awhile),
but really,
is anything really good or bad
outside of the confines
of a sensory system?

if you do away with sensory systems
there's just (different) forms of klanging junk,
and even with them, it's about the same..

however you feel, the universe
as a lurid system of examples
will go on, at least until it stops..

Monday, December 22, 2014

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Homage to Catatonia

Estoy aquí solo

George Orwell conoce 
a Carlos Castaneda en 
el Reino de Valencia

it is 1926 in Burma
and the dense frail shadows
murkily slither
and they join the elephants
and timber

these trains
are not puny wisps
justice will be
the core of the sun

to its own nature
in gravity
and in the grandeur
of the raw naturalism
of ur-radical

the coal thinker
to make a universe-sized hospital
to cure
a novel about our trains

Esto Yaqui's olo
and now in a golden well
of gravity

dna will hedge
its articles on the gutter
but not in Suffolk

down and out
and working in secret
you can see its sick foot like a tooth
begin to pale with fervent luster

a crooner
of disgust

angels lark
in the gallants

and there with N
at rock bottom
and mad
the poor horse
the evil pilot

there I began my life
in the sucking fog
of a green sun

a fool
will lickerish difference
and so the spot
on its lung or son
will shift

and volcano cities
swinging back
into the most ordinary


Not on the Short List, and Not on the Long List.

pick it up anywhere (as)
there in the rainy bunchadoes
hurling great toad sighs down
from the lonely centers of smooth
and heavy letters~


~is clark coolidge elemental nonsense
coding a final fugue of alice?

is j.h. prynne an early 
or a late 
claude chabrol film
on gender relations
between marianne moore
and robert louis stevenson

For a few days we sailed with a steady trade, and a steady westerly current setting us to leeward; and toward 131 sundown of the seventh it was supposed we should have sighted Takaroa, one of Cook’s so-called King George Islands. The sun set; yet a while longer the old moon—semi-brilliant herself, and with a silver belly, which was her successor—sailed among gathering clouds; she, too, deserted us; stars of every degree of sheen, and clouds of every variety of form, disputed the sub-lustrous night; and still we gazed in vain for Takaroa. The good mare stood on the bowsprit, her tall grey figure slashing up and down against the stars, and still

“nihil astra præter
Vidit et undas.”

To challenge fate in art and life
Brion Gysin now became Mynona
of Thebes. Others could
build, and understood
making colossi and
how to use slaves, and kept crocodiles and put
baboons on the necks of giraffes to pick
fruit, and used serpent magic

"to glimpse a brazen ringing"
"explicit critique of every reality"
come to pass

the cup
whose alain badiou
had lain with bahktin

cupid's nose
cupid's arm
holding up those great black eyebrows
come into the presence
of the building

which due to the absense
of our knowledge

leers on you alone

in the hotel
of the black eagle.

drench the home
in its walls.