Yes
all bold
to rhyme with
cold.
And deep
to rhyme with
ideas,
which do
not necessarily proceed
in
logical order.
From “A SONG
OF
MY SONG,
IN THREE PARTS”:
It’s
off in
the distance. . It
came
into the
room. . It’s here
in
the wave
curving into the
gone
net of
the long strands
of
drying kelp.
Thus the heavy
black
lines indicate
continuous noise from
fire-
crackers during
certain minutes. I
really
don’t like
being up here;
I
don’t like
this kind of
separation.
I like
the idea of
a
situation and
becoming a part
of
it along
with the rest
of you. It
could
have come
from / the east
it
could have /
come from the
west
it / could
have come from
the /
north it
could have come /
from
the south
it had / to
come
glaciers, flaming
skies and silver
suns,
hideous wrecks
where giant serpents
spreading
black perfume
drop from twisted
trees,
and vermin
eat them. Like
who
is god
where are your
other
hands and
can you we
couldn’t
make careers
anymore, ripe to
the
toe and
partially encased On
the
Nameways. Oh,
we are keeping
tabs
on the
radar, and while
nothing’s
cooking at
this point in
time,
out over,
uh, at the
left
of each
viewing screen there
is
a thin
slot for a
copy
card. Above
each slot five
singular
electric letters
spell H E L L O in
red as if to confide affection
in all their minute and terrible detail these five little icons could
be teeth.
Hosanna,
To quote
RL, don’t ask
me
what I
mean, to quote
him
again, this
isn’t history this
is
simply I
can hardly eat
anything
that’s breathed
anymore except when
I’m
hungry.
See X.
:
…
(I quote OB/RR in full) ^^^^^^^^^^
… I was ill-advised in my despair. Collector of obscure texts. So much crumbled stone. One foot in the wilderness. I am an abandoned instrument upon which someone, a long time ago, struck a few notes on which I helplessly produce variations. There is no end to the madness. There is nothing to hold onto anywhere. Consumed in the bright order. The unbelievable love. I know of no paradise into which I wish to enter after what has been. Agreement with the soft heart. Radiance of a day. Resurrection from death, from oblivion. No new world without a new language. Sentences in which the world as a whole appeared.
&
I
re-born
in clearest water
painted
the handscroll
“10,000 Ugly Dots”
which
all the
players thought a
score
[nor fire nor moon are
ever
separate from]
with
which to
make immaculate mindass
musick.
[Note: Sources: Lisa Jarnot, “Stein Meat Work”, “Vulpes Zerda Sonnet”, “Husband Sonnet One”, in The Reality Street Book of Sonnets (ed. Jeff Hilson); Sol Lewitt, “SENTENCES ON CONCEPTUAL ART”, in 0 to 9, 5 (eds. Vito Acconci and Bernadette Mayer); Jerome Rothenberg and Richard Johnny John, “A SONG OF MY SONG, IN THREE PARTS”, in 0 to 9, 5; Laura Mullen, “AROSE (READ AS) A”, in Subject; Rosemary Mayer, “FIRECRACKERS / July 4, 1968 / 383 Broome Street”, in in 0 to 9, 5; Yvonne Rainer, LECTURE FOR A GROUP OF EXPECTANT PEOPLE”, in 0 to 9, 5; Charles Alexander, “59”, in near or random acts; Arthur Rimbaud, “The Drunken Boat” (tr. Ted Berrigan); Clark Coolidge, “THE FART OF THE HUGE (THE ART OF THE HOSE)”, “SHAME IT COULDN’T BE”, in On the Nameways; Kenneth Goldsmith, “Summer”, in Weather; Susan Howe, “Arisbe”, in Pierce-Arrow; Rupert Loydell, “HOSANNA”, “SYSTEM”, in Familiar Territory; Alice Notley, “THE SNAKE”, in Alma, or, The Dead Women; Robert Rissman, “X”, in No Sounds Of My Own Making (accept no substitutes!); Jared Schickling, “(shipped in) (a palimpsest)”, in submissions; John Taggart, “18”, in Unveiling/Marianne Moore; Ed Baker, GEM]
well... I'm "IN"! but I can't find me anywhere.... hard as I search/seek
even
Stone Girl
illudes/alludes me
to
full version of GEM is on my site ... for those who "dig it"
Posted by: Ed Baker | 13.02.2009 at 11:55 AM
between oxygen and complex proteins to survive on...i prefer this poetry.
Posted by: bea | 13.02.2009 at 06:09 PM
between oxygen and complex proteins...i prefer this poetry to survive on.
Posted by: bea | 13.02.2009 at 06:11 PM
Thank you, bea!
Posted by: John Bloomberg-Rissman | 14.02.2009 at 07:29 AM