Saturday, December 04, 2004

No shock.

"Wracking Havoc"

Looking for and not finding my stuff
in shadowy magnolia

Clod fusion
running on lucid ash, a waft of Tokay

Chalkydri, a hand
grasps shard and shard and at last a world

Friday, December 03, 2004

Girl on girl action from Mrs Halliburton.

Show your colors. (via M*tafilt*r)

' "The modern state," said Constantinidu, "deludes itself into thinking that it can protect God's life simply with police measures." ' --Kaputt

"Our window man has become a virtual millionaire with an average of about 20 windows to replace daily. " --Baghdad Burning

“Duration of an Instant”

A narrow walk, and down is up, now;
disastrous skald, and down is up, now.

Woods full of scorpions. Ruby trail
for ailing Whig; and down is up, now.

Trial upon trial: crimson companion
clips bright Algol, and down is up, now.

Narrow a shadow falls, through such mists
as scalp a rock, and down is up, now.

Thursday, December 02, 2004


with sickly actors and Cibola
crawls this rain

a brick indoors, and thus my own attrition
gray morn of a war

still Mongolians, still iron
ungodly hour, lipogrammaton, gun

disastrous lungfish
has no lamp

Pallid Mountain to ruin
and clouds coil across sky of Ubar

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

So long, Mr. P.


To sing is to arraign against wind’s sough
A bluff with as fantastical a fury.

I harrow fathoms in my turbid story,
with stony light and stars of civic Lilith.

Who can slog through lucid swamps for long
And not turn mystic? Sling a mystic’s wrath.

In rain as light as silk i walk and sing,
Against no solid balk, only bald shadow.

Ruin of what our nation had, and slag
Of all tomorrow’s tors, this worst of drugs.

Big Christ, who always knows a trick to win
As pinball wizards rip down Fand’s mimosa.

I sing and lurk in lands without a flag:
By walking it is road’s own bricks i honor.

'A frozen mountain stream, crystal fringes hanging from the rocks, chains of cold lace--this made me aware of what poetry really is: living emotion, rendered in a form allied to ice; flowing, elusive, imprisoned in something hard but transparent, colorless but reflecting all the colors in the rainbow.' --Thr*shold of Fir*

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

“Raucous Profound”

Touch my art, in raining dark;
thirst as Vlad in raining dark.

Chapbook kingdom, disastrous,
winds thrall vap in raining dark,

patchwork songs. What yawning void
strains this coil in raining dark?

Autumn martyrdom whips out
spoils of slag in raining dark.

'I shrugged. "Peace on earth through reason and order no
longer has any appeal to the imagination. That possibility has been rejected." ' --Hella Haass*, Thr*shold of Fir* (1964; tr Mill*r, Blinstrub 1993)

Monday, November 29, 2004

A Salam Pax sighting. (I got his book now.)

"About a ton of Mars falls on the Earth every couple of years, so if Mars bugs pose a threat to Earth life, it is too late. They are already here." --David Grinspoon, Lonely Planets (2003)

Golf mysticism.


I went into the mountains to interest myself
In the fabulous dinners of hosts distant and demure.

The foxes followed with endless lights.

Some day I am to build the wall
Of the box in which all angles are shown.
I shall bounce like a ball.
The towers of justice are waving
To describe the angles we describe.
Oh we have been so far
To instruct the birds in our cold ways.

Near me I hear a sound,
The line of a match struck in care.

It is late to be late.


Let us ascend the hearts in our hearts.
Let us ascend trees in our heads,
The dull heads of trees.
It is pain in the hand of the ungodly
To witness all the sentries,
The perfumed toque of dawn,
The hysteric evening with empty hands.
The snow creeps by; many light years pass.

We see for the first time.
We shall see for the first time.
We have seen for the first time.

The snow creeps by; many light years pass.


I cannot agree or seek
Since I departed in the laugh of diamonds
The hosts of my young days.”

--Some Trees

Sunday, November 28, 2004


And rapturous strain wodwo
gallant woods and swamps hibakusha

And faithful avid of gold warm nook vocal
through orchards now sylph

Wanton path
a happy man tamarind