Monday, February 6, 2017

Forest Lake Waste


o how i beseech thee
tongue tree
you coral pea of layered
and compressing questions like:

is the world's narrowing charybdis
the most countable tahroja
among the correspondylusian hieroglyphs
whose incipient and unnameable jewels listen
and wait

presenting these unreadable signs
to the vaca loca stepmass
the ivory dolls whose clamoring
congyramini of lush plurality
surrounds this impossible evocation
or what at first glance appears
to be a painting of Perseus and Medusa
swapping heads in a grotto choked
with confetti-like coins made
upset and angularly curling
by the terrible and looming magnets
inscribed with the sigils
of caramboling waves held by:

we are powerless:


as were the covert ambassadors
Kang Tai and Zhu Ying
when they gasped in wonder
at the glass canals of Óc Eo
which Amerigo Vespucci
never found

and whose exaggerated or dishonest letters
gave foundation
to the global knowledge
of some dry land laid out to glamor
on some celestial sphere:

the wolf's egg
whose true name might never be
terra incognita:

never trust an italian,
the line is lying for the living,
cause if all i had were antics,
there'd be a putsch of puttis

thresher elizabett erex

close on forty thousand frogs were there
in the dimple of her chin that most ominous
and somber of these mount mehru adjacent
language churning fat-chewing churricles
so to begin with think how anything you see or feel
or fear might be an example of thresher elizabett

erotic error is everywhere
eros like horror is matter itself taking a day off
determination and allowing logic its own emotion
by means of adding insult to injury aka
the blind radiations of complexity
and how they infect the masses

i like to imagine a goddess column
with forty thousand breast frog foams
moving up and down like a penis elevator
between here and the sun
straight to the heart of the sun

you can imagine
a solid golden frog
right in the heart of the sun
saying something like
'liquid gold vagina'
or 'i am the parrot of keening'
it really doesn't matter
none of it matters it's sort of like a chalkbeard
where the wiriting is despiriting
because the sad puff of smoke
you designate spirit
can barely get the pencil moving

it certainly can't draw
it just sort of scribbles around the surface of the earth
fidgeting with the little people
the frogs of the pond

but then again
maybe it's all inside us

maybe the frogs are the universe of possibilities
and the external universe
in the end

is just our big

a poem for harry

if tornado's side
has burst open with fur
i will see you at the slide
in your traditional stripes
the long ribbons of your beard
dragging the earth
everybody knows
the thorns of roses
were once beards
but with their locks
pressed together like rhino horns
dragging along the seine
where Sanxingdui still holds
Vercingetorix surrounded
by Caesar in the holy cowrie
of the solar city
for us they are tobacco-colored stuff
cylinders with tufts of tangled string
at either end

worm zephyrs
while dried they remain alive
and only moisture will restore

what desire enters the cave
and what desire leaves it

if tornado is represented by a perfect cone
a series of perfect cones that stretch and grow
up from the middles of previous cones
then we have to wait on our own specific edge
for the one cone until another touches it
and then our weary wondered
striped bearded and thorny
worm zephyr rose might cross over
to the land of adzes
where the fods
wear no pants but still sing

to conversionings

hi, how are you

here's a souvenir thokcha for you..
it is made of meteor iron
and you can wear it for a mustache
on a face-necklace if you like
or open leather knots with it
as long as you eschew
the gordian option
and choose to wrestle
with life's geometric burdens

The Great Park

I'm sorry Frank
I think you missed it

Queen to Bishop 3
Bishop takes Queen
Knight takes Bishop

Hunters in the snow
the rest of history perhaps
shimmering of a displaced imbroglio
its repast a meager fox

Schirmer under Schadow
and Böcklin to the Isle
who knows what might connect
the nine muses to these downtrodden
hounds Preiddeu Annwfn to
Castellum Puellarum what
blocks of concept moving layered
in a spun rotunda

we might be forced to glare
at one another Frank
but that glare would be translated
into a thing like brotherhood

our cold thinktanks together
on the march to descend
into a fictional yet symbolic
cup of grey and enlightened contrasts

the nonesuch winter of our symbolic hunter
our negation of the future
with this free-swimming
and sexual form of a coelenterate
pheaseant-less and heading home

the stark boredom of our desires
the arch scintilla of the floor
speaking a language of wonder
we no longer ignore
we no longer hear it at all

I'm sorry Frank
I think you missed it
Hunters in the snow
Mars in December
The Winter of 1564
pawn takes goddess
eschatological precipice
pace looping (cusp)

Sorry about this (adoration)
I know it's a bit silly
Just a moment...
Just a moment...
rotunda puzzle collapse
shimmering of a displaced imbroglio
its repast a meager fox

the jester
eats its own fox
then washes it down
with gambling
and indigestion
I'm sorry Frank
I think you missed it

what in this form is wrong
what is right
screens go dark

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Rillet Bruit

a tree pokes out
from ancient chimney
and all round in the empty air
birds (untranslatable)

said zerzan to derrida
tao phaedra jump rope herr kommissar
said derrida to zerzan
if spartacus is not paul de man
what then is all this n-différance

these gergovian ovals
ogling coy ogres
this saccorhytus
in lieu of coronarius
goal goal goal!

empery inkirlie
empery inkirlie
the white robe lined in red

o quhar
throw the castell
o quhar
fold the hose
o quhar said cawdor
on the high-low ground

The Smile

in the deep land of te-henua-fenua
i tried to die
leading asterisks to arsonyx
carving coconuts
and soft pink skulls for children
watching dogs toss crabs along the ocean's
and patenting morphine
along her shiny molten leprous hair limbs
i put dancing girls in the newspaper
for eternity
a great crime i am told
by the old peruvian painter
Darius Puama'u Pareja
heave of loa
or sewer rear
no rile its total triple 7
this lame itch they say
has lived for seven hundred
and seventy seven years
but it was not happy much
after six hundred
and sixty six for it seems
it had forgotten how to smile

and show those
rotten grey skull teeth again
those sick and suppurating legs
those green
and luminous
pyramidiacal bait houses

where the orderly traffic of strange
and transcendental insects
converges and diverges
on the great and living topiary pyramid

the hanging topiary chad strollery
the garden labyrinth pyramid

whose penultimate and deformed
tiki apex is


o viri loa
i tried to smile
i tried to surf on crocodiles
down blue grass hills
into secret grottos
where wordless wonders
still reigned


the dew venom's noose
in case summer thinks
oh oh
what a long noose

Where Do We Come From?
What Are We?
Where Are We Going?

that in a deep and shrouded blue wood
you discover
quite by accident
an orgy of twisted and crimson fungal fauns
exploding glossy mysterious
with yellow pollen
as if the text and the sacrifice
had slip knot twins
for shinny

a souvenir

Silva Loa and Silver Loaches

the dirty locks
plug the trumpet
and the wild caliph
is the mute sweet snail
of leopard gale

the gaol of the sea is pearl'd
and the earth is a prism
of dream flesh

gad what
transparent pyramid plaza
opens to trugaha
when trugaha
with vine abandon Bignonia
goeth sor juana

goeth goetry
the dirty unlockings
unplug the trumpet

or say that the dancing place
had once covered over
the place where our name was buried
and who lived with snakes and worms
sitting for awhile underground
then dying
then coming back for awhile
to sing with the snakes
then sticking its head out
through the dancing pavement
then falling back in
for 12 years
then coming out again
to describe the electric snake

which like a spring
was the knowledge that the atom
is its own mind
and that narratology

is both the blind angel
and vivid demon
come together

in a fruitless

in a coma-like pleasure
some call treasure
and others

like the thorny head
as heaved in bushels
to nowhere

Dead to tenebra wiktionary

(after J.D. Nelson's TARK)

download a child
with a line of duty
Hoon am
because as i feel this forum badly
this habit seems to me you
very badly
Index of dialect category "Pea".
For example, there are terms such as
Piashi, Papa, Priapus, Pasha, Piano

punitive punditry sinembatgo

Asta Hatta, Quechua?
but on the other hand
is a masque
a false face, a dead face
Tok Pisin say maski maski
mas que
tagalot although (maski)
kima kima kuma kwan
because because because (and then)
i wanna
The borrowed items are used to link segments
of discourse of various sizes
pragmatic detachability
semantic scale
and category sensitive scale

and transfur of fabric
for what is the end result

a thing that stands upright
or sits, walgs some
loogs at worgs

but does not builg spage cigies
or regair the egosystem
zlatá blázon-prorok,
what is sun fetish mustard?

o fey its tard goal'd stoma-ach gate
let them seelpen in gem crusts
drifting in long worm skins
out into eternity
to wex whatairu-rurn
they mu fine

o pharaoni gelatin woman
you are no two people

but one haggard maski
hung on a pole
in a coralbridge

waxa ay qaadataa wax
mae'n cymryd pethau
inachukua mambo

capit omnia
kaput omnia

kaput har monia, moţasoţa?

it eats well
but doesn't see much
when it looks at the sky




toward its reckoning
the scyphum calvariae
with its funny ears and
shallow wavering pun tunnels
running up along its surface
pāhoehoe-like poet-like
a pair of grins or flowering garrigues
staring out of the dark
like the eyes of an animal
as if it were a dog
who liked dried worms
whose systems of declination
like the battle of the sabis
appeared to be an ornamental stone fist
in which a tiny and slender snake
had made its home
varro atacinus
as a haircut cap hovering to the alps

its subject or jouxter
tectosage or dulcet
the inconceivable rhymelessnesses
of monstre triomphe
mallarme's long gaulish mustache
attacking its own pāhoehoe

the fruit of an adolescence
is true crime head-hunting
invia twice
as mad map and headache goats
or cutthroat

a swan roosting
on an enormous and slender wheel
of all the felled peoples
who liked dried worms
to snake through their villages
like paths or hedgerows

the potato-dog lane
so quiet now
what great collective woman is now
atlantis to druids
its trash pressed into platonic solids
which followed the declination line
to the hour angle
across the body
of the celestial worm
to become the planet mercury
the melted platinum wings

in the terminations

its subject

moving back and forth
like the single extant line
levis unda saporis
it will not glow
the final jug heads

take samples of its worm
since you will not eat it whole
dignitas haecceitas
freud in a can

From Bukhara to Burke and Hare

William Burke and William Hare

William Burke was born in 1792 in Urney, County Tyrone, Ulster, one of two sons to middle-class parents.[18] Burke, along with his brother, Constantine, had a comfortable upbringing, and both joined the army as teenagers. Burke served in the Donegal Militia, until he met and married a woman from County Mayo, where they later settled. The marriage was short-lived; in 1818, after an argument with his father-in-law over land ownership, Burke deserted his wife and family. He moved to Scotland and became a labourer, working on the Union Canal.[19] He settled in the small village of Maddiston near Falkirk, and set up home with Helen McDougal, whom he affectionately nicknamed Nelly; she became his second wife.[20] After a few years, and when the works on the canal were finished, the couple moved to Tanners Close, Edinburgh, in November 1827.[21] They became hawkers, selling second-hand clothes to impoverished locals. Burke then became a cobbler, a trade in which he experienced some success, earning upwards of £1 a week. He became known locally as an industrious and good-humoured man who often entertained his clients by singing and dancing to them on their doorsteps while plying his trade. Although raised as a Roman Catholic, Burke became a regular worshiper at Presbyterian religious meetings held in Grassmarket; he was seldom seen without a bible.[20]

William Hare was probably born in County Armagh, County Londonderry or in Newry. His age and year of birth are unknown; when arrested in 1828 he gave his age as 21, but one source states that he was born between 1792 and 1804.[18][22] Information on his earlier life is scant, although it is possible that he worked in Ireland as an agricultural labourer before travelling to Britain. He worked on the Union Canal for seven years before moving to Edinburgh in the mid-1820s, where he worked as a coal man's assistant.[18][22] He lodged at Tanner's Close, in the house of a man named Logue and his wife, Margaret Laird, in the nearby West Port area of the town. When Logue died in 1826, Hare may have married Margaret.[a] Based on contemporary accounts, Brian Bailey in his history of the murders describes Hare as "illiterate and uncouth—a lean, quarrelsome, violent and amoral character with the scars from old wounds about his head and brow".[2] Bailey describes Margaret, who was also an Irish immigrant, as a hard-featured and debauched virago".[23]

In 1827 Burke and McDougal went to Penicuik in Midlothian to work on the harvest, where they met Hare. The men became friends; when Burke and McDougal returned to Edinburgh, they moved into Hare's Tanner's Close lodging house where the two couples soon acquired a reputation for hard drinking and boisterous behaviour.[18]

The Pen Not the Sword

Grizel maintained
that Weir derived his power
from his walking stick,
topped by a carved human head,
giving rise to later accounts
that it had often been seen
parading down the street
in front of him.


 is a stiff cloth, made of cotton, and still occasionally linen, which is used to cover and protect books. Buckram can also be used to stiffen clothes. Modern buckrams have been stiffened by soaking in a substance, usually now pyroxylin, to fill the gaps between the fibres.[1]
In the Middle Ages, "bokeram" was fine cotton cloth, not stiff. The etymology of the term is uncertain; the commonly mentioned derivation from Bokhara[2] is, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, uncertain.

Millinery buckram is different from bookbinding buckram. It is impregnated with a starch, which allows it to be softened in water, pulled over a hat block, and left to dry into a hard shape. White buckram is most commonly used in hatmaking, though black is available as well. Millinery buckram comes in three weights: baby buckram (often used for children's and dolls' hats), single-ply buckram, and double buckram (also known as "theatrical crown").[citation needed]

between Bukhara and Book

termites discovered in the garage area

whichies scuzz or base
themthot well
nor even well they staid
as in the 7th letter of Plato
no ham
no neo-tylorian interfaces
with peltasts
but hot stoking rod theremins could
if they come fore as bayonnet like
shrilke the hold gemnian facile act
Rene Girard could lead a choir like
Hermann Nitsch over this harsh
predatory vagina-faced bull
its claws-fingers mandible extensions
suddenly backwards
to mask your plexing
nasty or knotsy
don't give birth to anymore of them
by stones he ment to plaid
o what an earth it's all people
and they eat animals and build machines
no matter what they believe
ten times ten times ten times eight hundred
thousand could be reduced
here living in this garden still
under an overhang
rain and centipede magnet ghosts
come manipulating the mirror dream
so i jump off the roof
while dionysus' name
has become associated firstly
with an argument over property
properties are dull as a thud
but it doesn't mean
that the meanest sod
or low drinker of wine in a gutter
isn't made of gods

every atom is a god
and every part of the atom
a goddess or vice versa

words are lame
and edible

it's silly
the soldiers finally got their pay
by simply threatening their leader
with violence

a leader is just a cuspidor
and a world
is just a question

just how many sorrows is
a countless sorrow


The Decline of Western Civilization

in the cult of the clouds
so it seems
i seem to see floating past again
barbara carl linneus quigley
lately of smalland and living dead contours
and in the same way that Matango
retells the story of Oliver Onions'
I feel that the wreck of the medusa
reveals our moment of the anti-faust
as the pilot frankenstein
from deathrace 2000
in the cult of the clouds
you see things in the clouds
and then you make a cult about
by telling stories
made up out of the shapes
which your brain is able to identify

2017-1984 = 33

The number of deities in the Vedic Religion is 33. The divine name Elohim appears 33 times in the story of creation in the opening chapters of Genesis. Lag Ba'omer is a minor Jewish holiday which falls on the 33rd day of the Omer Jesus' age when he was crucified in 33 A.D. According to Al-Ghazali the dwellers of Heaven will exist eternally in a state of being age 33. Islamic prayer beads are generally arranged in sets of 33, corresponding to the widespread use of this number in dhikr rituals. Such beads may number thirty-three in total or three distinct sets of thirty-three for a total of ninety-nine, corresponding to the names of God. 33 is not only a numerical representation of "the Star of David," but also the numerical equivalent of AMEN: 1+13+5+14=33. Pope John Paul I, the 33-day pope. One of the shortest reigns in papal history, and it resulted in the most recent 3-pope year. A religious image of the Virgin Mary from the 18th century is known in Uruguay as "Virgen de los Treinta y Tres" (Virgin of the Thirty-Three); it was consecrated by Pope John Paul II in his visit to Uruguay in 1988. There are several churches dedicated to this Marian devotion, being the most important the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady of the Thirty-Three in Florida, Uruguay. There are 33 degrees in Scottish Rite Freemasonry The House of the Temple, Home of The Supreme Council, 33°, Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry in Washington D.C., USA has 33 outer columns which are each 33 feet high. The Yakuoji Temple in Japan has a two sets of steps, one with 42 steps for men to climb, and the other side with 33 steps for the women. The Saigoku Kannon Pilgrimage visits thirty-three Buddhist temples throughout the Kansai region of Japan.

zombies eat brains
but cloud zombies
make up stories
that eat brains
and that lead
to the decline
of western civilisation