Zeitgeist Spam

FCF 32

Screaming
Walls / Shrieks
& Scrawls, Gaza /

Rimbaud,
and every
word came from

somewhere
somewhere, EL
CINEMA DE CATARSIS,

yeah,
sometimes the
sidewalk says you

talk
too much,
other times it

says
go right
ahead, one time

a
square snapped
off like a

[fire
wheel in
the middle of

the
air                way
up in the

middle
of the
air] Penthouse of

the
alfalfa aND
omega, “           ;           ;           .” [open

quote,
spaces, semicolon,
spaces, semicolon, spaces,

full
stop, close
quotes] comma, [comma]

grassy
like a,
bench flood loop

tuned
to G-
feather (moll), yeah,

ever
since a
square snapped off,

the
square I
was standing on,

which
was flung
through the air

by
four seriously
indicative hallucinated hands,

that
all facts
have extra hair

of
the first
person,                   people who’re

                  there
          already—though
        the other person

and after all, I think, listening to the dry susurrus of onion skin paper rustling as I leaf through the pages, Einstein and Nietzsche were contemporaries weren’t they? If only briefly,

QED,

w/WordW/word, full stop? Not yet,

The city is not only a form of modern life; it is the physical embodiment of a decisive modern consciousness,

celestial
substance undertaken
so needled senses

are
flush, some
distantly sea-yearning

quitodian,
274:      public
void addPoem( ) {

362:
“this looks
almost l” “ike

*errmsg;
this is
a confessional poem,

soon
I will
become a wonderful

man,
a little
like a painful

and
wonderful dinner.
All was night,

&c.

“First Photo With New Camera in Manual Mode”

[Note: Sources: Otoliths 12. The 1st 14 authors. Like a sonnet. 1st of a series. Not everything, but something(s) from almost everyone. There is other stuff intermingled and at the end. The series is for Mark Young.

David-Baptiste Chirot, “Screaming Walls / Shrieks & Scrawls”, “Gaza / Rimbaud”, “Rhythmic Thanks”, “El Cinema de Catarsis: El Colonel's Eyes are Tracking”; Denise Duhamel, “Alice”, “Political Poem”; John Barlow, Bob Weir, Robert Hall, “Estimated Prophet” (not in Otoliths); Raymond Farr, “Pudding Pops Y Bueno!”, “Fire Wall ///// Free Will Kit for Seniors”; J S Murnet, “Stole Home”; Tom Taylor, “Hands”; James Sanders, “Poem for Randy Prunty” and “sonic sonnet #1” (in which the words I’ve lifted were lifted by Sanders from Floating Series by Leslie Scalapino); Martin Edmond, “Traumwelten”; Kane X Faucher, “[baldynamo]”; Andrew Taylor, “GesquOi (Part II) Poem” (quoting Raymond Williams); Forrest Roth, “Staying Lockstep In”, “Eventual Abundance”; Cath Vidler, from “Found Source Code Poems”; C E Çhaffin, “5, 6”; Kazuko Shiraishi, “What Is Called A Miracle” (trs. Yumiko Tsumura and Samuel Grolmes), in My Floating City, Mother (not in Otoliths); Ernesto Cardenal, “The Word” (tr. John Lyons), in Pluriverse (not in Otoliths); photo by and © Omo Bob]

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

February may be the shortest month, but that doesn't mean that Otoliths has to follow suit. Issue twelve , the southern summer issue, has just gone live, & it's as large as ever, with its usual wide-ranging selection of prose, poetry & things visual.

Included in this issue are David-Baptiste Chirot, Denise Duhamel, Raymond Farr, J. S. Murnet, Tom Taylor, James Sanders, Martin Edmond, Kane X. Faucher, Andrew Taylor, Christopher Major, Forrest Roth, Cath Vidler, Angela Genusa, C.E. Chaffin, John Lowther, Mary Ellen Derwis, Joe Balaz, Mary Ellen Derwis & Joe Balaz, Maria Garcia Teutsch, Felino Soriano, Bobbi Lurie, Bill Drennan, Jeff Harrison, Sheila E. Murphy & John M. Bennett, Jukka-Pekka Kervinen & John M. Bennett, John M. Bennett & various collaborators, John M Bennett, Adam Robinson, Anny Ballardini, Michael Rothenberg, Jared Schickling & John Bloomberg-Rissman, Tom Beckett interviewing John Bloomberg-Rissman, John C. Goodman, Marcia Arrieta, Donald Dunbar, Eric Burke, Joseph Wood, Gregory Bem, George Moore, Brandon Shimoda, J. A. Tyler, sarah k bell, Ed Baker, Arpine Konyalian Grenier, Jill Jones, Geri Gale, Geof Huth, sean burn, Tim Gaze, Nicolette Westfall & Jeff Crouch, Paul Siegell, Daniel f Bradley, Stu Hatton, Dan Ruhrmanty, Philip Byron Oakes, Kristina Marie Darling, Katrinka Moore, Mary Kasimor, Charles Freeland, D.C.Porder, Jeremy P. Bushnell, Alana Madison, Michael Filimowicz, & Spencer Selby. The cover is by Alexander Jorgensen.

Enjoy!
Mark Young

Otoliths

Digital photograph of "Digital Photograph of a Page from Joel Sternfeld's American Prospects (Grafton, West Virginia February 1983)"

[Note: Happy Birthday Omo Bob!]

Reliquary For One Note of Achilles' Song

[Note: For Eileen Tabios. Original art by Rebekah May; (re?)purposed by JBR]

FCF 31

           else
exile to Moomazookatutty

where
it’s too
late for you.

Too
late for
JBR. Too cold

too
old to
sit on the

porch
watching bats
fly blind. Bloodied / / heads/

prophesying/
See/ these/
acid/ waters/. ______________

;
blessèd
blessèd
blessèd

[1,969 O’s (for solo voice with vocal and musical accompaniment.) Perform 1,969 O’s immediately after the word ocolomotololofoctononervo is rendered sound.]

Additionally:
o ob
o O o

av
O often
o. There are

times
leaving a
place thinking something

vibrations
are transmitted
without the notion

that
one is
transparent, you probably

wouldn’t
be able
to see so

far
under the
ground under she

wrote
under the
water. Context the

punishment;
repeat amplification
protocol; a number

of
sentence fragments
open full stop.

The
cutout lips
pasted to the

page
are the
mouths you refer

to
when you
write They talk

about
the weather
of the future.

You
want to
cover your ears,

but
a friend
calls instead. “On

your
own day
you are the

you
are like
you are uh”

LOVE
and GRIEF.
GRIEF and LOVE …

That’s
obvious enough …
I remember once

I
was in
this fancy château

for
questioning. Above
me on the

ceiling
was this
huge religious scene,

cherubs
and saints
in long robes.

So
as they
twisted the wire

tighter
I looked
up and saw

this
saint smiling
down, softly, intensely,

saying I AM ALL THINGS. The grizzlies if I ain’t
loud enough. He was an old man. THEY COME
THEY COME. The gray the white. They come
alongside of the herds. The crippled the young
& their wolves. LIFE IS VERY DANGEROUS.
Until over. The hungry know. The sick the
lame. The herds are thinned. Nothing eats
too lame to procreate. He came to me one of
the lined his beard white his life very dangerous.
Won’t be the same after you go. IT’S ALL IN
THE TREES. THERE IN THE ROCK. IN THE
AIR BENEATH THE ICE. To breathe. I can
tell you stories. Understand. He had no teeth.

Additionally:
o ob
o O o

av
O often
o. … the heavens black & red …
… a mighty Childs head gaping …
… a man in a bright …
… a whyt …

rantiro ranterat vendeo vitelat
vernethat cernelo hurott morsheno
rungothon rungonor cuporor
untonor un signytus rolcon

etc.,

at
precisely zero
o’clock the

face
you have
loved all these

years
turns like
a sunflower to

the
source of
sunlight and its

petals
become dazzling
while the inside

face
remains somewhat
recognizable (its eyes

dance
merrily and
its lips pucker.)

    o
  o   o
O  o  O
  o   o
    o

I
was already
iterable. Unhearable unbearable.

The
lunatic fixed
stars. In the

blood
the enzymes
are the history

of
Dada, too
hysterical, too sick

with
god, the
gods, the mirror,

an
epic in
24 jars, in

each
jar a
gelcap, in each

cap
a grain
of rice, on

each
grain engraved
a word, O

Goddess,

[“If I remember correctly,” “I said to myself”]

they
sing the
woof of Achilles.

Rolling
before us,
a discarded shopping

cart. O holy night

;
blessèd
blessèd
blessèd

our
houseplants seem
so satisfied with

the
way things
are, just breathlessly

waiting,
impeccable the
grey-curtained walls.

[Note: Sources: a childhood tale by Sheila Siegel; a very young Amanda Ross; Jean Vengua, “I don’t know what to say”, at Okir, 29 Jan 09; Piers Hugill, “Il Canzoniere: 3,6”, “Il Canzoniere: 4, 4”, “Il Canzoniere 1, 14”, in The Reality Street Book of Sonnets (ed. Jeff Hilson); Michael Basinski, “… poems that mirror themes of mice”, “All Dwell in Frogs”, in All My Eggs Are Broken; Laynie Brown, Pollen Memory; Allen Fisher, “Suzy Q”, “Slow Drag”, “Mezz Merround”, in Leans; something Omo Bob told me last night in reference to an artist whose name escapes me; Richard Caddel and Lee Harwood, Wine Tales: un roman devin, and Harwood solo, “Mirrors”, in Lee Harwood, Collected Poems; James Koller, “SOME MAGIC”, in Poems for the Blue Sky; Daniel Moore, “Zero O’Clock”, in The Blind Beekeeper; TheaurauJohn Tany (or one Pordage; at least in Pordage’s handwriting), in Ariel Hessayon, ‘God Tried in the Fire’. The Prophet TheaurauJohn Tany and the English Revolution; Bob Perelman, “Indirect Address: A Ghost Story”, “In Memory”, in Iflife; Jerome Rothenberg, “That Dada Strain”, “Hunger”, “The History of Dada as My Muse”, “A Glass Tube Ecstasy”, in New Selected Poems; imaginary project [conceptual art, not “gratuitous advice”!] for Eileen Tabios, email correspondence, 28-29 Jan 09, my half since posted by Eileen as part of “Some Novel Reviews and 2nd Printing of Novel Underway”, at The Blind Chatelaine’s Keys, 29 Jan 09; Homer, The Iliad (modified Butler translation) (one of Eileen’s dogs is Achilles); Katie Ford, Colosseum, in Sasha Dugdale, “Devastation and Digression A review of Colosseum by Katie Ford and A Most Marvelous Piece of Luck by Greg Williamson”, at Poetry Foundation.org; Joseph Somoza, “In the Neighborhood”, “Still Life”, “Seasonal”, “Downtown #1”, in Sojourner, So To Speak; John Wieners, “How Perfect, How Quintessential! …”, in Selected Poems 1958-1984]

FCF 30

We
both nodded.
Do you know

where
those flies
are coming from?

No
idea, I
said. X leant

over
and pointed
under the bench.

There
was a
dead bird right

underneath
where I
was sitting, half

rotted
away with
maggots. Fuck. Jesus,

I
said. In
some books, LIKE

the
String Book,
text is “dispensed

with
altogether”, though
I can still

read
it, same
with The High

Priestess,
with its
4 ranges / 16

shelves
of big
lead volumes of

“mysterious,
or impenetrable,
content”. You were

there,
I mean
here, I was

here,
I mean
here, everywhere

between
being transcendental
and complicated and

always trapped in not only a novel, but a graphic novel. In a way it's also a kind of paper-based hyper-novel, because it very cleverly questions the boundaries between codex-based literature (to use a term I have been repeating throughout a thing I've been writing), digital information, poetry, visual art, performance art and narrative.

Click
here. Being
qua being is

founded
on the
null set, the

Name
of the
Void, the indiscernible;

Ein
Sof, anyone,
grey-lidded harbour

rocking
with plastic
chairs under strip

lighting
towards the
waiting face? They

made
us promise
we’d send more

fakes
when we’d
got out and

we
agreed. They
claimed they’d found

forty
one. But we’d
sent none. It

was
the fakes
who’d done the

finding. Artist’s Statement:

In this landscape to the southeast of Siena, one does not find the typical lush Tuscan views of vineyard and olive grove. There is no terracing and few fruit trees. The soil here is heavy with clay, suitable for raising sheep, planting wheat and hay or corn and sunflowers along the lower land. It is an intricate, hilly landscape with small scattered woods up and down the slopes. The soil is bone-grey in spots, yellow or yellow-grey in others. In June it gold with wheat; in winter all is green but for the reddish woods. In spring virtually everything is green.

The landscape has changed little since the time of the Lorenzetti. Until the 1960’s there were no poles or telephone lines. Now farming is mechanized. The “contadini” are townspeople; their houses are bought by foreigners who can afford them. Strict zoning prohibits the building of new housing.

The landscape is remarkable, and perhaps most unique, for its graceful mix of the “natural” and the cultivated. The fields and woods have a complex and compelling relationship. Cypress appear in odd and unexpected places. Italian oak pop up in the middle of a field or atop a hill. Things are allowed to happen by accident. Until now there has been no flattening or bulldozing of slope or field to make the farming easier. Woods are harvested carefully, and they stay where they are.

On any clear day in this southern portion of the province of Siena, one can see the profile of Monte Amiata, a long-extinct volcanic mountain. It is pictured by Sassetta in a panel where St. Francis salutes three airborne female figures (the theological virtues). In Sassetta, as in the other Sienese painters, we see the same gentility and asceticism that one finds in this austere and beautiful place.

Click
Here. This
is the end

of
“Misrepresentations”: It’s
a commitment / Slivers . . .

trailing
off, &
deep, deep echoes,

god
it’s like
Schroedinger’s cat, you

say,
the father
has vanished, but

why
not the
mother? Isn’t the

mother
really just
a father in

the
end, and
the father a

mother?
I saw
a shadow on

the
water. …

[I know this situation makes a perfect poem.
But I will not.]

           I
want to write

that
I’ve already
been to Jupiter …

Click
here. Click
here. Click here.

Since
it is
impossible for more

than
four souls
to be together in

ONE
BODY (cf.
“Sefer Hagigulim” 5)

the
caress seems
to me an

exemplary
gesture; such
a musical ethos

might
inaugurate a
musical society, everything

is warm and covered
in dust and on the table there are sometimes
new notes in handwriting that I don't know in
two colours and secret signals flying to and
fro

what gift in the windless smoke

We
both nodded.
Do you know

where
these files
are coming from?

Time
to put
my mind in

the
sine waves
of the trees.

New galaxies form like droplets,
mirror universe pulls back the shade
(enjambment from heat to sub-zero).

as
the distance
penetrates the disappearant

like
dye (a
thoroughly poetic process).

For
a long
time only the

fire-
swallowers brought
back to mind

an
order not
quite les mots

et
les flesh
of dreams excised

by
the postman
LIKE quantities of

glass
ground small
in the molars

LIKE
in the
ideogram which reads

“mountain
of the
moon” the word

tsuke
(“moon”) can
also mean “ended”

“crumbled”
or “exhaustion” …
NO TALKING sayeth

the
Phoebe …

[Note: Sources: The 2nd 14 items linked to along the right-hand margin of Great Works 12, plus …

Sam Osborne, “from a novel”; a description of works by Keith Smith and Anselm Kiefer, as described in David Pearson, Books in History (not in Great Works); Alasdair Paterson, Noctivagator; Ernesto Priego, on Eileen Tabios’ new masterpiece, at Never Neutral, 27 Jan 09; Ian Pople, ‘A Version of Cavafy”, “The Hospital : für Eugenie Geisbrecht”; Stephen Van-Hagen, “Rosenhan's ‘Thud’”; George Schneeman (i.m.), at Cue Art Foundation; Stephen C Middleton, “Misrepresentations”; Catherine Hales, “quantum sonnet”; Elisabeth Roudinescu, Philosophy in Turbulent Times (not in Great Works); Sasha Steensen, “The Stranger at the Gates”, in The Method (not in Great Works);The Kabbalistic Tradition (ed. Alan Unterman) (not in Great Works); “Thinking Life as Relation: Conversations between Luce Irigaray, Stephen Pluháček and Heidi Bostic”, in Luce Irigaray, Conversations (not in Great Works); Babbette E Babich, Words in Blood, Like Flowers (not in Great Works); Norbert Hummelt, “rooms” (tr. Catherine Hales); Niall Quinn, “Phlebas IV, 1”; Rupert Loydell, “Running Away From the Clock”, “Disorienteering”, “The Museum of Lists”; Andrew Jordan, “Inside Mary Millington”; Johannes Jansen, untitled (tr. Amos Weisz); Amos Weisz, ‘of mutabilitie: a night with will self”; Sascha Anderson “Jewish Jetset: Thus Weird It Spake” (tr. Amos Weisz); Amos Weisz, “tinfoot”; Bashō, The Complete Haiku (tr. Jane Reichold), note to no. 547; Phoebe is Sasha Steensen’s and Gordon Hadfield’s daughter]

"Down in Denver / Down in Denver ..."

Off to Denver for a conference and some friendly poet meet-ups.

Maybe we'll go looking for Cody's old man ...

FCF 29

I’m
beginning to
think now about

how
it might
appear, voiced, and omitted,

I
think it
needs a well-

manured
soil &
a little chimney

to
grow in
so it doesn’t

get
smoke in
its eyes, where

is
this? A
deep split dans

le
verbe. Each
day we go

about
our noise.
I am            now

your
hardware I
am            now            your

autonomy
I

                     “float like a mote of dust

                                        in the morning sky.”

OF COURSE ‘this is the wrong way to say anything’
OF COURSE ‘this is the wrong way to say anything’
OF COURSE ‘this is the wrong way to say anything’

                               “power grids light up the city, its axons and dendrites alive. . .”

< /: network systems overload >   {     }

I
disgraversed that
back sket. But

I’m
not my
own. OF COURSE

‘this
is the
wrong way to

say
anything’. E:
Isn’t emotion always

complex,
perhaps even
aporetic? Apophasis, baby,

apophasis.
A bowl
of beans dries

out /
On the
bench, a few

brown
leaves / Crust
into its mess /

And
just down
the road / The

grey
walls whisped
with iron. What

did
the grey
walls whisp? “Can

you
be made
from household products?”

“You
melt my
narrative . . . I’ll glass

your
mind.” Hyperpublic
aloneness. You are

a
Thou, you
are God now

now
savouring Her
new-found status

as
a zombie.
There is ‘nothing

that
it is
like’ to be

a
zombie. *[CHORUS]
ZOMBIE-O, ZOMBIE.

Advertisement: The occupants of Zombie Earth are smart

(But those who protect themselves with Zombie Alert are smarter)

Her
stomach crammed
with nettles, she

drew
a picture
in which various

kinds
of thoughts
left her head

in
the form
of birds, clouds

or
stars. She
met with some

of
them again
later, snagged upon

the
branches of
trees in the

grove
she entered
in the course

of
her tunnel
work. I let

the
green horse
guide me into

the
river meadows,
under the bridge

obscured
by a
cloud of steam

from
the brewery,
and so at

last
into the
tunnel. Equality (=)

is
made up
of two minuses.

[Note: Sources: The first 14 items linked to along the right-hand margin of Great Works 12, plus a mangled bit from Elizabeth Alexander, “Praise Song for the Day”, plus a bit from Ernesto Priego, comments box, “Era of Peace”, at Never Neutral, 21 Jan 09, plus …; Except as noted, everything after the next colon is from Great Works: Richard Makin, “St Leonards XXVI”; Peter Hughes & Simon Marsh, “The Pistol Tree Poems 1”; Adrian Clarke, from Eurochants; Nathan Thompson, “Variations”; Tim Fletcher, “Bizarre regions”; David Rushmer, “Utterly”; William Garvin, “: strugatsky sequence.diary]”; Glenn R Frantz, “The Mating of Lecture and Experiment”; Stephen Emmerson, ”a headache before rain”; Gareth Durasow, “Here’s to You, Ahab! In Memory of Andre Durasow”; Peter Dent & Rupert Loydell, “Tough response”; Rodrigo Toscano, “Journal”, in The Disparities; Colin Harris, “The Big Bad”; a website called Zombie Alert: The Experts Speak Out On the Zombie Threat; Fela Kuti, “Zombie” (not Great Works); Paul Holman, THE MEMORY OF THE DRIFT Book Five : TARA MORGANA. MAGNETIC SWORD; Jalal Toufic, Distracted¹ (not Great Works)]

I Must Have Been Tuned To the Wrong Channel

**A few comments on inaugural address:

There were only two even potentially substantive moments. The first is certainly substantive:

“Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, …”

Read: we are ABSOLUTELY committed to the progress of global capital. Even tho – in fact - the question of “whether the market is a force for good or ill” is FAR from settled we won’t ask it. Nor will we question whether the market “expands freedom” – in spite of the fact there is no evidence for it.

I was asked this morning on my way in to the office how I plan to answer Obama’s call for service. I said, and reiterate here: I will fucking well CONTINUE to question whether the market AS CURRENTLY CONSTITUTED is a force for good or ill, in spite of Obama’s prohibition. (read: Globalization? Maybe. Just not THIS globalization.) I will CONTINUE to work for an economic system that actually promotes justice and universal well-being, in spite of Obama’s groundless assurance that it’s no longer necessary. That will constitute my service to this country.

The other potentially substantive moment:

“With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet.”

Nuclear threat and warming planet knotted together? Huh? Why? When any nuclear war will leave us so fucked up global warming will be the least of our problems? Hmmm, could he mean "nuclear power" as a threat? Huh? again. When many accept nuclear power as a way to keep the planet from warming? Including Obama? I quote:

20 June 2008. CHICAGO (Reuters) - U.S. Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama said on Friday nuclear power was "not a panacea" for U.S. energy woes but it is worth investigating its further development.

During a meeting with U.S. governors, Obama noted that nuclear power does not emit greenhouse gases and therefore the United States should consider investing research dollars into whether nuclear waste can be stored safely for its reuse.

That was just 6 months ago. So what could he be talking about?

I suggest: Iran. Now we have a new reason for enmity. Their attempt to become nuclear is a major threat to the very health of the planet. Is this a bit of plus ça change …???

And there was one egregious “oversight”:

“For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West …”

Settled the West? Dude, have you forgotten the West was settled long before we got here? Have you forgotten the Native American GENOCIDE? (Sidenote: Maybe that's one reason why we side with Israel? Because they're replicating OUR history? And allowing us to think our history "normal"?)

**One comment on Elizabeth Alexander’s effort:

Too much Joe the Plumber. Not enough Joe Strummer. For my taste at least. I'll leave others to debate whether she actually wrote a poem, whether her delivery was any good, etc.

**One comment on the day’s constant harping on American Exceptionalism:

Somewhere in Dickens’ American Notes (1842) he says something like (I paraphrase from memory), “Wherever you go, you have to tell Americans that their form of government and way of life is unparalleled and is better than any other. If you don’t, they get all agitated. I don’t quite get it, but you have to do it.”

So I guess we’ve always been like that. Why? Maybe it has something to do with improper weaning …

FCF 28

(“Specifically” . . . If you are not moving around in your seat, note here that you are looking at these words while performing that specific action …)

J:
A frog
is croaking in

the
field. I
feel in limbo,

suspended
in an
unfamiliar season. L:

The
music is
there the moment

the
thought listen
for it. Where?

Somewhere
in the
distance, over my

right
shoulder. About
half a mile.

J:
under the
full moon: the

miniature
ponies are
grazing on my

potted
plants. I:
Maybe name them

Gravity
& Grace?
E: One of

my
“mantras”, those
senseless phrases I

used
to repeat
endlessly, was “una

manada
de ponies
corriendo por la

pradera” …

R:

why always…

one…            (1 & 2 each walk to the other’s spot)

as by two…   (1 & 2 walk back to their original positions)

[diagram]

why never (and forever)

one

as by…

oh the combos… (1-4 each walk to the middle line (each in their line spots) and
                          face forwards, in neutral stance)

[diagram]

the combos they’re…what are they?

not-here not-not-here      (1-4 put hands out in front to grab something (once))
not-here not-not-here…    (1-4 pull (swiftly) hands in back into neutral stance)

there… (2 & 4 turn and face each other (no walking))

[diagram]

I could stare…

at that stare…

perfect…

(“Specifically” . . . If you have a body, note here that you are looking at these words while having a body …)

(Don’t worry too much about what while having a body might mean …)

“Spread
your sternum
open like an

angel
is grabbing
your heart.” “Drop

your
arms and
relax. Angry people

are
inherently uglier.”
(said with a

stern
authority, broken
immediately by smiling)

The
de- / cisionism.
For my to

hell
I could
remember loose? Indeed

they were
addressing (not
met his love

was
to have
passed through the

“Ode
to daily
gel, though our

good
fortune to
spread 21. keenly,

given
defi- / nition
21 TML code,

The
waning day,
the black 21.

lying
to me
about living spirits

the
snows of
yesteryear, and I

love
everything! (also
everything biting in

this
a Visit,
and a Short

Funeral
Ode mean
you. To quote

or
badnage of
time, the bea[fitul] [tiful] [tific]???

one
will open
a of a

body.
I was
was approaching. As

if
it “HMMM”,
“HMMM”, A Moral

Lesson;
“The Ambition
of a fine

street.
Like a
vibrating … Several words

seem
could all
lection and on

everything.
I saw
a yellow I

knelt
by the
irony. Hence: “ref-

lection
and You
know [“Let it …”]

(this
then is
have all been

it
turns out,
is just this.

of
course). Some
bits are quite

bomb
or pie
in the alreadys

into
screech of
history The rock

of
flesh. Sometimes
you just have

to
stop bleeding
‘n uh the

chicken
dance.” It’s
dizzy the Dust

Blows
Back”, read,
the hardest thing

the
waves rolled
Will meaning suffice?

Abracadabra
rain! one
for or manifest

and
hidden are
one. (where (tho

I
could the
gods or laws?

You’ve
Will meaning
suffice? Abracadabra twig.

Spring?
In January?
Something must haustive)

task
of flesh.
in argh, the

pure
lyric, a
photo-Being-With:

heart
was viens
the flarfiness of

the
journey. is
fast and bulbous,

got
his own
little bones a

cough.
O Simplici-
Impossible Mourning of

dissolves
into projec-
tural as strange

and
out, is
just this. ‘love’ //

Dios
mio! River
under lots of

it,
one for
turning into is

surely
a sign
of This room

His
turquoise Han-
Shan pretty much

A
-Z. (with
an allusion a

window.
Ricture the
neck of of

obit
in the
screech of gauze,

reeking

its shape. skin is skin in

The envelope arrives;

spanning

to spread out in this from the word go

sur-vivre before

and matter how you shave

in

tired. horse. of

Abracadabra
again. begins
intoning a mad

litany
the room.”
Not To quote

can
shatter body
sense? I The

rock
has its
of light. It

smeared
the Goes
to the left

“are
you sure
you don’t love

and

*

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Also Try: XIX] ± [XI] [XO] [XIO]… (x) (x)·[XOXX] 1⁄2 [XO] [XIOXOX] ± [OR] [X] ± TORYKARMA [THE X]·Apple Sutra. [B] € [X] - [X] ± [OXIO] (quotes removed)

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Does
this sound
like you? Does

this
sound like
you? If you

are
other do
you think it

matters?
Do not
art the touch

works.
“Well I
must say,” he

remarks,
“the Commander’s
right, all the

hair
’ll have
to be removed.

Meanwhile
keep wearing
your chain.” “I

don’t
understand,” said
the Sleeper. “You

don’t
understand? Of
course you don’t

understand!”
said Cole
Younger. “What of

it?”
“Why, I
don’t know,” said

the
Sleeper. “Think!”
said Cole Younger.

“I
can’t,” said
the Sleeper. Cole

Younger
laughed again,
but this time

through
his teeth.
“That’s all,” said

he.
& &
& & &

&
& they
zigzag faster than

they
eye can
see through these

particular
trees. And
further, the tapes

were
then rigorously
edited: all unnecessary

words
such as
‘the’ were removed,

as
were all
possible literary and

art
references. These
statements must be

taken
with a
grain of salt.

Only
the d__ __ __ __ __ __ __ d
sleep outside. No

destination
is the
destination of the

undestinated
of the
oval head on

the
other hand
the other hand.

a lot of purply blood in telepathy ain’t there

perhaps

possibly we are never actually in a situation exactly like the epistemological model

Does your enterprise software turn data into insight?

There
were sticks
underfoot, you could

hear
them, they
were not simple.

There
are sticks
underfoot, you can

hear
them, they
are not simple.

Trees
are whittled.
The skulls they

once
rented are
now destitute.

“Hail to You”

Bone of your arm –
…………………………… such dignity.

[Note: For Jean Vengua and Ernesto Priego.

Sources: Jean Vengua, untitled, 13 Jan 09, “under the full moon”, 10 Jan 09, at Okir; Dr. Leo Rangell, “Music in the Head: Living at the Brain-Mind Border; Part 1”, at Huffington Post, 12 Sept 06 (Thanks, Jean!); Ernesto Priego, email, 17 Jan 09; Rodrigo Toscano, “CORDONED”, in Collapsible Poetics Theater; Shin Yu Pai, “More yoga scripts”, at Makura no Soshi, 16 Jan 09; an edit of “Autopoiesis CXCV”, which is itself “a rewrite-prior-to-release of the entire text (including notes) of A Spectrum of Other Instances”; Chris McCabe, “A Quick Survey”, Birkenhead”, in The Reality Street Book of Sonnets (ed. Jeff Hilson); dunno the artist, photo by Sam Bloomberg-Rissman, sent via email about 5 minutes ago; Kathy Acker, Great Expectations; Ted Berrigan, Clear the Range; Jack Collom, “Carolina Paroquet or kelinky”, in Exchanges of Earth & Sky; Marjorie Perloff, “Afterword”, in Kenneth Goldsmith, Fidget; Fanny Howe, “The Passion”, in Gone; Heineken commercial, just aired (the Cardinals/Eagles game is on the box); Rupert M Loydell, “On & Off the Page (for Marjorie Perloff)”, in A Conference of Voices; Alice Notley,”Jone Jonah”, in Reason and Other Women, in Grave of Light; Joan Retallack, “How To Do Things With Words”, In How To Do Things With Words; Microsoft commercial (still the 1st half; Cards up 21-6); Jared Schickling, “(to grandmother’s house)”, “(butterflies)”, in Aurora; Eileen Tabios, “Hail to You”, in Dredging for Atlantis]