Like an apple or a cat’s tail (if we could achieve some sort of blank slate of consciousness) I have “little joke” rooms, too, the gist is that the appearance of a separate object out of its background is first made by the use-value of that object for us (yes, I'm using Marxist vocab to discuss Heidegger, how weird is that? Sometimes I refer to myself in the third person, too). My favorite bit is: “How many fans of Pussy Riot’s zany ‘punk prayer’ in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior and Nadezhda Tolokonnikova’s erudite and moving closing statement were equally thrilled by her participation, naked and heavily pregnant, in a public orgy at a Moscow museum in 2008? That performance, by the radical art group Voina (Russian for “war”), was meant to illustrate how Russians were abused by their government. Voina had previously set fire to a police car and drew obscene images on a St. Petersburg drawbridge.” I didn’t know about it at the time, but YES, emphatically YES. One of my favorite sights is a burning police car. (Stones swallow our tears, a lava flow transforms the landscape, on its high heels a tidal wave ravages the West Coast) … we chew our cud in the shade of tall trees, high on the mesa … crazy television sets, skulls stuffed with multicolored sausages … some say that it’s still too early and roll in greyness, the others arm themselves, to hear and see nothing. We weren’t sure we’d speak about this again, in the sewers of Paris, London, New York, Amsterdam and to repaint both sides of the scenery with juicy, stinking shit undeniably French … EXORCISM !!! … unnerved bodies groan… a cadaver on the surface of an ocean of beauty spots … he is hidden in the forest / in a world of nails / his dibbik fails him. 1. neon colors only!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. prune up in the tub for 2 hours. 3. rub makeup on your hands … 4. eat lipstick.
REMEMBER: sweatpants don’t have to be ugly! “I like weird ass hippies,” she writes, “I like the lamb’s blood you throw on my face.” I cast a huge shadow of myself on the pavement and wiggled my fingers. The dog chased after it. Wiggle. Pounce. Wiggle. Pounce. Wiggle. Pounce.
fishermen, there, and then the bouncing fish ran out
and left an unchang-ed void
No fish meant we had to increase our intake of roadkill
and import more bananas, oranges
pretty, but muscle,
>and ceramicy bone. The arable land
between death and life – these two ends of the country include the body
continually formed and emptied and fallen and 3 weeks later made a furry callus
I have climbed
the mast of that journey
it is a bomb,
to eat grain
[Note: Sources: Ken Rumble, and JBR, in conversation in the comments section of JBR, “A poem from KEY BRIDGE by KEN RUMBLE”, at Galatea Resurrects, various dates 012; JBR, paraphrase of a bit of an email to Anne Gorrick, 17 Aug 012; JBR, and Vadim Nikitin, “The Wrong Reasons to Back Pussy Riot”, at NY Times, 20 Aug 012, as quoted in JBR comment appended to Sean Bonney, “The correct reasons to back Pussy Riot”, at FB, 20 Aug 012; Claude Pélieu, KALI YUG EXPRESS, at Nomadics, 1 Sept 010; Jerome Rothenberg, Khurbn, as quoted in Mark Wilson, “The Shaman of Subversion: Jerome Rothenberg’s Radical Deconstructions – Mark Wilson”, at The Fiend, 21 Aug 012 (a review of Rothenberg’s Triptych); Amelia Gillis, “how to look cute like all the time”, at Inststructions, 21 Aug 012; Publisher’s Weekly and Dorothea Lasky, Thunderbird, as quoted in “Dorothea Lasky’s Thunderbird Alights on the Desk of Publisher’s Weekly”, at Harriet, 21 Aug 012; Marcus Slease, “A Lot Like Life”, “from Spanish Fork manuscript”, at Never Mind the Beasts, 21 Aug 012; Doug Jones, “Some people are starving”, at Veer About 2010-2011]