The first book is the story of a baby who is found in the toilet by a witch. That is, I was in this hospital for my heart surgery, so I knew the food was bad. America was named on April 25, 1507. What I really wanted I went home and wrote straightaway but it only made the grisly crunch hook into me from which obviously flowers as stiff as bricks. Feather your ontogeny, it’s a hard knock life. The gold modernities in the his of the lilacs. Besides, everyone was doing Gilgamesh that year. So I abandoned the project. So they decided to make three animated GIFs: set against the still statue, the bay water ripples under an orange sunset, trees quiver in the breeze, and a bird dashes across the sky. Half a second later, it happens again. And again. And again … Kazuhiro yawns, then retches. “No go, flyspecks.” “And what color is Scriabin?” At that moment I wanted to be one of Artaud’s daughters of the cunt. I wanted to be like Karen Finley, with her tit out, shouting expletives and exorcism at the Danceteria. The net comes up with everything, red weeds, green weeds, live fish, dead fish. The rosebush beside me is seemly with thorns. The various adjustments to flock-based life. This is authentic American folk magic at its best — household remedies combined with charms and incantations to cure what ails ye. Then the baby kangaroo jumped all round the house and Victor went into shock when it jumped all round the house and ran right to the living room rug, and I was all “You know? For boxing?” And Victor was all “WTF?” and I explained that he’d mentioned wanted getting back into martial arts again and that I thought a kangaroo would make great sparring partner. Then Victor just stared at me and I was all “You’ll have to teach him kung fu though” and then Victor just put his head in his hands because apparently he doesn’t have as much faith in his teaching skills as I do. As CERN says, “It’s 5 Sigma, baby.” What?
At late stage the defect of scale scrapes off
the felt lining to slight down the huff, displaced
into wrong water. Split finish by large numbers
…
…
… won’t
matter, …
blips on the cycle, …
…
…
…
…
…
this scant fuel thins to vapour in vacant air.
[Note: Sources: “KALDIRIM DESTANI: A LIFE IN TURKISH COMICS”, at The Book Beat, 25 Feb 07 (hat tip Omo Bob; re: Masist Gül); JBR; anonymous source; Jacob Sloan, “The Naming of America”, at Disinformation, 4 Jul 012; Jonty Tiplady, “Simple Phrases”, in Zam Bonk Dip; Anne Gorrick, “When the Heron Forgot His Own Font”, “Wiltwick, Wallkill as Memory”, in I-Formation Book 2; Jay-Z, “Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)”; Andrea Brady, “Note on the Text”, In Wildfire; Ryan Wong, “GIF Free or Die Hard at The New York Times”, at Hyperallergic, 4 Jul 012; JBR; Francis Crot, HAX; Graham Sanford, “Toccata & Fugue in Alizarin Crimson Minor, Op. 5”, at Greyhoos, 4 Jul 012; Kate Zambreno, “Apoplexia, Toxic Shock and Toilet Bowl: Some Notes on Why I Write”, at Frances Farmer Is My Sister, 4 Jul 012; Bill Griffiths, “Reverie no. 9”, in The Mud Fort (memory quote); Dana Ward, “Imagine”, in This Can’t Be Life; Bhanu Kapil, “Week 4: Summer Writing Program: Naropa”, at Was Gertrude Stein a Punjabi?, 4 Jul 012; blurb for The Long-Lost Friend: A 19th Century American Grimoire; Jenny Lawson, “The man deserves a damn medal”, at The Blogess, 4 Jul 012; Carl Perkins and Nick Collins, “Higgs boson: scientists 99.999% sure ‘God Particle’ has been found”, at The Telegraph, 4 July 012; JBR; JH Prynne, Unanswering Rational Shore, as quoted in John Latta, “Bill Berkson / JH Prynne”, at Isola di Rifiuti, 14 Dec 011]
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