Wednesday, December 02, 2009

" 'Yseult is absolutely radiant as Queen-elect, and it's affected her writing in the most marvelous way, so that it's become (if such a thing indeed could ever be) even more artificial and epigrammic, until it's just the sheerest scrim of beautiful shimmering words over an absolutely cold void, like a lace of frost crystals in space...' " --John Barnes, A Million Open Doors (1992)



Catacombs of amber sleep
Let you come and get
Your existence
Crystal mutiny              bleed;
Adscititious skitoma
The last of the Mojitos

"O lost solitary

--Satire: Veritas

The Jew of Linz.


My Vocabulary Did This To Me. (via Silliman)

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

(via Huffington Post)


Taste and touch brighten spring snow
Weeds brought the refusal

Weeds loitered western stars
The earth catwalks the east rim
Less vivid

To rest the earth
To have fog-breath
The little western stars fought"

--Don Shea & an IBM 360 computer in: Avant Garde (9/68)

Wally Cleaver at the Louvre. (thanx Melanie!)

India on the moon.

The old mule delivers the goods. (via Dave Pollard)

my one candy
in the pinkgold dawn

Let the trials begin.

Can it really be the only things that matter are our differences?

The Harry Smith of Nintendo.

From the Wikipedia entry on "Anunnaki" i learned that Icke's invading reptilian aliens are from "the constellation Draco". Which known exoplanets might that be? (Never mind obvious candidates like Sigma--) There's TrES-2 at 718 light years, the subgiants Iota (Edasich or Eldsich) at 103 light years and HD 167042 at 163 light years, and HD 104984 at 332.5 light years, also a subgiant. Not to mention the interesting binaries μ & 26, as well as the "61 Cygni twin" ADS11632 (Σ2398). Personally, i like Thuban, because of the Egyptian connection--but if there's anything living there, it came from somewhere else.

We all earned the puppy.


And now that we have found one shred of hope,
wha' d'ya suppose will come? And now that stars
pent hitherto beyond unyielding doors
emerge, do you believe this shit will stop?

Harlequins, of swank cobweb debut,
like phosphene gleams, are really not much help;
what swarms among of mine? On nimbus-stoop
the lightnings huddle, becalmed in parallel;
clearing. And look what shards are left:
words, as one once spoke them, algid sift
from future storms, the hoür's isopleth...

i rush to catch my Starbucks, as the fetch
wanders alone in the dark, like Bacon's fifth
Pope...and on the uncompanion'd earth
Cthulhu in the mire plucks chary pitch.

Nas ne dogonyat.

Snoop deVille.


teraphs into
this is the tug's din

flying lungfish
flung deltaic articles
to leave in die
rain night ice acid

citadel taken
of foehn coinage

no other dialect

Cadillacs and Dinosaurs.

Combat by Mochipet. More.

Farewell from Mars. (via Metafilter)

the Twisted Slippery Years have come to grief,
and now an Empire falls, and now a Leaf.

Melanie raised an interesting question today about the canon (or, specifically, why should she be reading Walter Scott?). Do we even need a canon? I think there are two ways of looking at it. First, there is the old "progressive-evolutionary" model, aptly pictured by that (in)famous poster of human ancestors walking in a line, from one end shambling on knuckles all hairy & beastlike, becoming more & more erect until, at its culmination, one can imagine the 20th century aerospace engineer with a slide rule. Or you can picture it as an "evolutionary tree" in the modern sense, with many false-starts or branches that left no progeny, & the survivors not necessarily being any better than the non-survivors, just luckier. Actually, in literature a revival is always possible, so that the lines of descent are continually being (slightly) rewritten: this is a way of reading old texts. "What other ways are there of making sense of this?"

Of course nowadays i advocate each creative writer choosing their own ancestors (whakapapa). But how do you do this, starting from scratch? I know i read many books of criticism & reviews until i found congenial pathfinders, & i imagine this is a common experience in those impatient with having their "classics" selected for them. And sometimes a generation of writers reaches a new consensus about an ancestor or group of ancestors, but this typically takes a very long time to become reflected in the curriculum. In the meantime you have subcultures & cult-artists. They may never reach the point of official acceptance. Or their numbers may impel a token gesture, such as the Library of America embracing PKD & Lovecraft (instead of, say, all science fiction).

What we need to understand, perhaps, is simply the fluidity of tradition, which nilpertains its crucial importance. And this is not anyway to be used to argue from its authority but rather to say: see what has been done. Does it speak for you? And what will you reply?

The Anunnaki Project.

Some sample Lojban etymologies.

"Not since Lincoln and Roosevelt has an incoming president been landed with an America in such desperate need of rehabilitation and repair..." (via wood_s lot)

Amusing Ufonic postscript.


were you · one of those
riding · shote
and solid · in its ethos

vugg hogan · not seldom cannibal civic
zebra scabbard · rafydra ethos
coral tor of those

Algol cloud · and lip topaz
the fanged shote
scripture · what it means to be a shote

now · we must start to pronounce the word comrade
among those
burning with ethos

shame · or hobbit logic then almost
in Alcor fjord · new ethos
of rainbow cobweb debut · infectious shote

jahiliyyah · born to those

Dark Days.

Bill Wall's blog. He has played all the crazy chess openings i have, & then some.

   "Goldenrod-Adorned Log"

lamp harp star faith

in the pearl morning dapple
dowager of bromine bloodstone
big dig by shadowy purposes

silver thievery's witness
lamp harp star faith

Did not the Titanic survivors for a long time have trouble believing they were actually on dry land?


Dave Pollard already has figured out the Top Ten Tasks for President Obama.

Augean gray hejira
find joy in the heart chamber

not that cannibal cairn now
nor a further foehn coinage

with the Algol cloud yielding
sight of Canaan, coral tor

blue years and unopened medicines
let the iron slack ply

"In the past week my team has won the World Series, and my candidate just threw the GOP out of the White House. I should buy a lottery ticket."

Tent City thread.

"A triumph

That triumph is
Triumph on a victory and indestructible
   victory, first-class in decay and victory
Your eye a triumph in
   the barn and eloquent enough to
      strive for
Is this water
   then, this flippant death?
”I baptize music,” you
Let us linger
Let him linger and baptize his

--Robot X, 337


   At the end of the battle,
and the combatant dead, a man came toward him
and said: 'Don't die; I love you so much!'
But the corpse, alas! kept on dying.

   Two approached him and repeated:
'Don't leave us! Be brave! Return to life!'
But the corpse, alas! kept on dying.

Twenty, a hundred, a thousand, five hundred thousand, came up to him,
crying out, 'So much love and no power against death!'
But the corpse, alas! kept on dying.

   Millions of persons surrounded him,
with a common plea: 'Do not leave us, brother!'
But the corpse, alas! kept on dying.

   Then, all the inhabitants of the earth
surrounded him; the corpse looked at them sadly, moved;
he sat up slowly,
embraced the first man; started to walk..."

--Vallejo (tr Eshleman)

"In concert halls and ballrooms, in plazas and at beach parties, people across the globe hailed Barack Obama’s election as a stroke for racial equality and voiced hopes his presidency would herald a balanced, less confrontational America."

Peace Train.

   "For the End of the Reign of the Red-Assed Baboons"

as if the fire were put out
and the charred smoking ruins
stretched to the clear horizon

and you must call it vict'ry

Lonsdale's Krazy Kat chapbook can be downloaded here.

"t’s like waiting for the results of a biopsy, where the doctors think it will probably turn out okay, but there’s at least some minor chance that you have terminal brain cancer."

Ghetto Plainsman.

   "Sunlight for Vampires"

anchorage in scathe
shade solders
grope Fallujah ogham festering windmill

and psalmody across harm
still chattering · yet oscillates white
far edit
cestus is soggy slalom

adjust leper frop
oscillate agrarian brimstone
go sparingly we of fallout glow allot

fulcrum sjambok fall
whose falter

i have a stake in this


Viktor Bout's Last Deal.

    "Trilobite Meerkat in a Plaid Coat"

punji universe
sham frequent

moth kiln
fuji unction
arm of rorqual
hope's glass

Best of Issue 1.

Yma Sumac dies.

Meerkats of Nibiru.

    "Confessions of a Trilobite Meerkat"

they take from me my places
of sanctuary dark
they take from me the days
and the years
and the hopes i started out with

when first i took to the road

Love Baby.

thinnest of crescents
in the pre-dawn gloom · empty
garage parkinglot

Cafe misto explained.

   "The half-cooked leaves"

banjo nightclubs
hot fundie mess
long shadows of morning
caffe misto
banjo nightclubs

A good picture of Melanie.

   "Welcome to Agapeland"

gutterpunk turquoise
in phantom days
you caught what died for you

only that they may
fountain of liquid cancer

dust on my glasses
bright in raking light
the glassile demons of Deebul

blue tattoo diagrams
on ivory skin
in phantom days

halcyon axle explode
in this nightly maze
scoop pumpkin

with this knowledge there can
   be no reason to doubt
the wrongness of space



"It is true that Byron or Hugo probably preferred an abbey to be a ruined abbey; but they would not have visited a Baptist chapel even for the pleasure of seeing it ruined." --Chesterton

(image of French glam rocker Michel Polnareff)


Phantom days, the glassile ships of Deebul
move out with the sudden light
spilled on a brassy doorknob, my fumbled key
just like another that doesn't work.

I drink the wrongness of space.

And your mountains of red hot slag,
and your Keemun, and your cancer bomb
a positronicon away,

i drink with the wrongness of space.

O bitmap image of Tvashtar,
harsh in the olid elective

i drink to the wrongness of space.

"Those who worship the intellect never use it; as you can see by the things they say about it. Hence there has arisen a confusion about intellect and intellectualism; and, as the supreme expression of that confusion, something that is called in many countries the Intelligentsia... It is found in practice to consist of clubs and coteries of people talking mostly about books and pictures, but especially new books and new pictures... The first fact to record about it is that what Carlyle said of the world is very specially true of the intellectual world--that it is mostly fools. Indeed, it has a curious attraction for complete fools, as a warm fire has for cats." --G K Chesterton, The Thing

That i should be foolish--a given; that my foolishness might be toxic--unthinkable. For when we are children we don't actually get the chance to break anything bigger than ourselves.

Willie Bobo.

Heart warming. (via Metafilter)

   "Plastic Spiders and Perfect Worlds"

Boom years i remember
their traceless passage
seems now the most unaccountable dream
those colors
that music
riot in the thronged halls of Tara

Tara rasps Ararat
its dome golden at dawn

"The music kept us alive but it's not enough anymore. My people are being devoured." --Toni Morrison, 1981 interview

Davie Allan and the Arrows.

By doom severe, had not
   Gasenemy hate
And seek to choose a way
   in between
Or blood poured forth
Or swine flesh

There is a moment in the infinite duration of the crash-seconds, where you realize you aren't going to die. This moment, friends, is the one we are in.

"You have pretended to be seeing.
I have pretended that you saw.
So came we by such eyes--
And within mystery to have language."


Nortec Collective.

"The book that would have a chance to survive, I think, is the book that destroys itself." --Edmond Jabès, interview in: Paul Auster, The Art of Hunger (1992)

carbonaceous desert?
What does the down taste

without hand to ride?
Or undiminshed brightness,
   to be known
Up streak night

I like uplifted affairs
labyrinth gone creature

a pernicious highth
Ah, woe upon worshippers

charred technicolor

"Kewitsch maintained that the choice of base 60 must have arisen from contact between two peoples, one using the decimal system and the other a system that had been built on the number 6 as the result of a special method of finger counting." --Ifrah [Thus the conflict in Lojban between decimal & hex might be bridged by base-80??]

Windmills of Your Mind thread.

I am too
   high; the slim snow asks my
The news from Boötes
   grapnel prime runic
when free will is a burden

Xyzzy musmalsi
Like a smooth place

The Grum Orc Potlatch
      for Algebra
Like a smooth place

Getting the bullets to re-animate
Fossil monkey

As since minus.

"He that hath ears to hear and will not hear may just as well have them bitten off." --Chesterton

The Mother of all Surgeries.

"...the great mathematician Lagrange claimed that a prime base is far more advantageous. He pointed to the fact that with a prime base every systematic fraction would be irreducible and would therefore represent the number in a unique way. In our present numeration, for instance, the decimal fraction .36 stands really for three fractions: 36/100, 18/50 and 9/25. Such an ambiguity would be completely eliminated if a prime base, such as eleven, were adopted." --Tobias Dantzig, quited in: Georges Ifrah, From One to Zero (tr L Bair, 1985)

norsmu cfipyboi
.i mi satci klama
le skari le krasi
le gansycau sanga
.i banzu

You know it's 2008 when you read everyday a blog about blogs to see what the bloggers are saying.

You know it's 2008 when you watch last Saturday Night Live's best skit on YouTube and forward the link to your friends.

You know it's 2008 when you speculate that CD's may have already become obsolete.

You know it's 2008 when you've never seen any of your favorite musicians play live.

You know it's 2008 when you hear people saying they seldom look at their email anymore.

You know it's 2008 when you get a FaceBook page just for career reasons.

You know it's 2008 when you google an author if you liked reading their book so you can read their blog.

You know it's 2008 when you create a fictitious internet pseudonym so you can review your own books on Amazon.

You know it's 2008 when you prefer a fan's SIMS music video to the band's own video for a song you like.

You know it's 2008 when you have friends in the same city you haven't met physically for years.

You know it's 2008 when there seems to be something very primitive and pure about a subculture that only existed in the physical world, like punk or reggae.

You know it's 2008 when you listen to a song on the radio made out of three other, famous songs--and you kind of like it.

You know it's 2008 when you overhear the younger generation talking about an artist they admire and not only have you never heard of them you don't know what sort of device you'd need to experience their medium on.

You know it's 2008 when since you never have time to watch a movie all the way through in one sitting, you prefer VHS to DVD because you can just pull it out & it keeps the place you were watching at last.

You know it's 2008 when your favorite YouTube videos are all clips from Sixties TV variety shows.

You know it's 2008 when at the used bookstore where you work, some of the merchandise you have to process is someone else's very extensive cancer library.

You know it's 2008 when you find out by self-googling that you are mentioned briefly in a book published ten years ago you never knew about; you post a link to the Google Search page result on your blog the very same day.

You know it's 2008 when the word "rendition" fills you with a vaguely ridiculous sense of dread.

You know it's 2008 when you wonder if you will ever travel abroad again. Or even fly in an airplane.

You know it's 2008 when you want to ask friends who live in the country how much of their own food they grow, but you don't because that would sound like you were angling for an invitation.

You know it's 2008 when you've stopped reading the blog about blogs when it comes to hard news of any kind, but you still read the trivia and sometimes find yourself blogging about some item of trivia you've already blogged about just to keep from thinking about what might have happened that day when you weren't reading the news.

You know it's 2008 when the AAA tow truck driver you summon at 630 AM recognizes you from a previous tow.

You know it's 2008 when you call up the available charge on your last credit card and divide that amount by the number of days till your next paycheck.

You know it's 2008 when you think putting up a list like this is a political act.

You know it's really 2008 when--it is.

Alt.Culture Music Guide archives.

Online Jargon File.

"From the latter half of the fifteenth century, however, the focus of tastes began to shift from Chinese objects to native products--to ceramic pieces fired in kilns in the countryside of japan. Such rough and unpretentious everyday wares used by peasants as crocks for seed storage and water jars were felt to be richer in feeling than the exquisite Chinese pieces, and they came to be adopted as tea utensils." --Yasuhiko Murai, in: Essays on Japan from Japan (1987)

my shoes that won't turn water
crunch nuts underfoot
in the golden rays of morning

all is suffering
to one who discerns

"It was late at night, and Hogarth, who had lately acquired a passion for that Mathematics which touch upon Mysticism, was bent over Quaternions, and the quirks of √(—1) in an alcove..." --Shiel

part two

frostbite arraignment · Goshen
assailing stilb · ibis withers
stern · be fault-bright cradle cam
pilcrow agonist · ink ammo
leaves infirm strike · ignorant wool
as ghostly settled

frantles crystal warp · antique
stuffings · flower mesh isthmus scoop
or wyvern ascot · stirrup
capitulates · flawless twilight
fallout from spigot rasp · until
streaming wink · squeaky

Vic Mizzy scowls · ambuscade
within azury tzaddik · hyssop
tsunami · scoriac foam
twinkling flute psalm wails · impasse abs
further asphault access · Hastur
adjusts serpent swamp

pewter dome of sky · drizzle
with unseen calamities thrang
the walls are still holding · sing
lodestone of the unborn dazzle

affirm the party of disease
the glory of plague

a squeaky escape, a speck
of mosque quartz · pumpkin belching quack
and quick mosquito venom

the crystal labyrinth nova
tutelary molybdenum
trance Tannu Tuva

in a state of red · deranged
by the infall · all we need is
abolish capital gains
all we need is · prison shadows
level the playing field · sell off
your VHS's

dusk on the moon Miranda
huge green birds ascend · their wings turn
slowly in the waning light

a cluster of trapezoidal
prisms · a solemn fugue unfurls
as i cross the bridge

boustrophedontic'lly (oh!)
scanning the names for my name (where?)
in Issue 1 · as the banks
shimmer into rainbow flurry

crawling through Downtown · the sky blank
and the jazz withered

with toothmarks

" such a numb somnambulism shambles humanity." --M P Shiel, The Lord of the Sea (1901)

Mystery of the Aleph.

Star-studded Disch memorial.

"The conservative 'journalists' are like workers in a factory that’s polluting a river which flows through the neighboring countryside. If the pollution is stopped, they fear they will lose their jobs. So it’s in their interest to fight environmental controls, keep the factory running and leave it to someone else to clean up the mess."

   "In the Journal of Artificial Scarcity"

(part one)
Tribulating front withal,
obstructive fumble-sloom. Fathoms
stab, silvery inks aglow;
offal from rockets. Ingrown storm
twists fifth stool shaper vampire flask
gossips about us.

Exemplary frost disease,
iron skies over this malady.
Our schedules inflexible
clothes made from oil · nourish rigid
twilight gossip on which to moor
infix or affix

Road loud on the tires yet i
did not slow · solitary fires
infused the twilight with glum
companionship · we steal delight
from cesium rays · from hoarfrost
on fortuneless trees

Gloom ranger · neglect prospers
among dark elves worn · the white leaves
cover · forced entry of calm
this was · clothes made from wormwood dregs
a squeaky furl · a funest sauce
eyes glued to the glove

his numbers · slumber's design
fish pedicure · fettered spiral
a slim snow scuffed · cufflinks spark
Sxwaixwe at bat · rattles te loud
road te strange · sporangium nods
we are all · falling

random hoofbeats rip · gypsy
mothballed · and the escape tipsy
across a mad terrain · train
porn grown boring · one of us walk
one of us find wanting · crosstalk
swirling · hurl attain

the sun brightens, but the sky
remains iron gray

My Lobotomy.

The 50 Worst Cars of All Time.

Jean Tinguely Museum in Basel.

"Morrices first writer, Dell Hair, was born in 1871 on Morrice Road near the Looking Glass River. Known as Joe Hairs fool kid, he skipped school, wrote satirical rhymes about the businessmen, and finally ran off to join the army. In Oklahoma, his impish ways landed him lots of time in the guardhouse, where he wrote more verses. After brief unsuccessful tries at running a hotel in Perry, then farming near Shaftsburg, he took a job as policeman in Toledo, Ohio. There he became known as the rhyming cop. He self-published five books of verses before writing Nature Beautiful. Though there is little likelihood of that book ever being mistaken for great literature, it does mention some Morrice scenes and names." His Echoes from the Beat (1908) came into our store.


Lost wax tadpole and altarwise as third coast
Inefficient as dunce corner or efficient as a virus
Lost bank balance, won as half time
Lost as a coast town found despite a recess

It has been Thor becoming an
   idea, dreams, memories
      reflections, the fearing highnesses

Rain has gone in your impotent basilisks
You have been inefficient

Little tsunamis much
Incriminate and high
Rotten and fresh


Ditto. (By the way...)

And Reginald Shepherd's poems are still being posted on his blog.

for the love of Eniac
more mahogany

for this chronic case of · astronausea

this malady of oobleck warpspeed

All Alone Am I.

the loud road, its slain serpent
rains from the crumbling red dirt rampart

space mission boiling clouds · residue filthy

charade lethargic
season quit watching the sixth

streaming past the windows green and dappled boyg
garboil hardly algolagnia

out of a green subprime nebula
fields burning swarga

whose incense?

"In 1968 while traveling through Texas with trailer containing over 70 dogs, his car burst into flames and he was forced to lodge the animals with kennel keeper A. D. Blount. He eventually found work at the Jewel Box Revue in Kansas City, but by then Blount had sold the dogs to a research facility since Bourbon was unable to pay for their keep. Bourbon hired two young men Bobby Eugene Chrisco and Randall Crane to work Blount over, but they panicked and killed the kennel-keeper."

"The children lit sparklers under a mouse-colored sky and, due to the pollution in the atmosphere, the moon was mauve. When I think of this city, I shall always remember the cicadas who whirr relentlessly all through the summer nights, rising to a piercing crescendo in the subfusc dawn. I have heard cicadas even in the busiest streets, though they thrive best in the back alleys, where they ceaselessly emit that scarcely tolerable sussuration which is like a shrill intensification of extreme heat." --Angela Carter, "A Souvenir of Japan," in: Burning Your Boats (1995; orig. 1974)

Twin Mystery Verbs.

   "train porn"

the metal mesh trailers of the yard men
armored car in the far lane
a band: the Wrong Others

the small revenge of the dead skunk

we make our space mission plans
while beneath us theUnion erodes

contentious voices
overheard in the cool twilight

it is by this absence
of intelligible signs i know

more avenging than an

don't look at me
i feel that i am losing human form

icy gawk mosque
it's a long way back
to Palestine

he comprehends the hate beyond the skin

from now on i have
to talk myself out of ev'rything

" 'You are lacking in solidity,' Señor Capablanca said to me.
'That is my saving grace,' I replied." --Tartakower

   "Subterranean Slubberdegullion"

fish pedicure · thunder treats
the crystal skull of Cheney

it's not a world, it's a

rotting food in the fridge
the coffeehouse deserted at seven P. M.

more avenging than an

my fellow prisoners
amuse yourselves with the queasy mosaic

white feathered flower

boxes shaped like books
the outlaw Josey Lane

ladle resentment
words at a low ebb

all the hermetic resolves jostle
in a cacophony of hubcaps
and the skunk-wig on the
smooth ceramic bear does not tarry
   seems imminent
to the sleepless

Ub Iwerks.

More acceleration than delectation...

Gnarls Barkley Crazy Theremin Jam.

Cannibalism. (via wood_s lot)

   "Evidence-based Wound Management"

hoick noxious
Couéist strongholds molten
with era cleavage;
dark end of the river and blood pool oval
the once and future mystic subject

tomb of insects fails find allegiance
death wind airt
heavy as a genius in his cubicle
politics of Scorpio
whispering edict

dreams of a mollusk
astronausea a leg · i want ancient
floors junior
smooth and unsmooth lie · slim snow stubborn
or penguincidal bebop

heavy dead rat · a northern
cast to the evening
grope end lungfish hazardous lonesome
i object
as the culminating perplex visions gouge

smooth and unsmooth quality belong April
festoon divest the elder value
valve floods planet edge tungsten

Coco Eco. (via Beyond the Beyond)

Black: chesstactics (2001)

1. Nh3 c5
2. Na3 g6
3. g3 e6
4. Bg2 Bg7
5. O-O Nf6
6. c4 a6
7. e3 O-O
8. d4 cxd4
9. exd4 Qc7
10. b3 d5
11. Bb2 Bd7
12. Rc1 Bc6
13. cxd5 Nxd5
14. Nc4 Nd7
15. Re1 Nb6
16. Ne5 Qd6
17. Ng5 Be8
18. Ne4 Qe7
19. f4 Nd7
20. a3 Nf6
21. Rc2 Nxe4
22. Bxe4 Rb8
23. Qc1 Nf6
24. Rc7 Qd6
25. Bxb7 Nd5
26. Bxd5 Qxd5
27. b4 Bxe5
28. fxe5 Bd7
29. Rc5 Qb3
30. Re3 Qa4
31. g4 Rc8
32. Rh3 Rxc5
33. dxc5 Bc6
34. Qd2 Bd5
35. Bc1 f5
36. g5 Rf7
37. Rd3 f4
38. Rxd5 exd5
39. Qxd5 Kg7
40. e6 Re7
41. Bb2 Kf8
42. Qd8 Qe8
43. Qd4 Rc7
44. Qh8 Ke7 & resigns (45. Bf6+).

99 Luftballons.

     "Fall and Autumn"

he likes brutal jabbers
rough thunder
the heaviness of the dead rat

did avalanche rain
tap tapping of keys
in the still night house
the visible motion of clouds

spontaneous broken symmetry
droplets on the shiny rear fender
morose silverback, grim whig,
rogue umbrella flying,
not flag; raisin against time,
rogue umbrella flying.

    but at my back I always hear
    Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near

making sort through tip-toe
who, among the demonic
echelons? lugubrious
as a kingdom
membranous wings

membranous wings

Texas State Railroad.

   "The Pillars of the Ukulele

Oh the mother and son battalion
is only an election away
oh the mother and son battalion
and an Ayatollah Clathrate Gun
what fun!
in the autumn of torture excuses
the Joker on the Joker waits
and a mother and son battalion
is all this election takes
and i carry my FunSaver sometimes
but there never is any fun
i went to the Moon all i got was
this Ayatollah Clathrate Gun

   "Ravishing rest"

Silver as a seam, more silver than angel
Heavy as a genius, heavier than industry

"I've held the Patriot Act. It weighs as much as a newborn baby." --Naomi Wolf, interview


There still are words for what we suffer through
just not the ones we wield. The road drags hard,
of Blindfold March; as long as whine's supreme
there still are words.

And we who swink with bear-fat in the cave
no longer ask if what we've made seems beautiful,
but stow the viewless scroll in box of cedar.

Already we have started that black expiry,
in which our hymns and elegies lie coded:
you'll learn it, prink our lucifers' rank sulfur.
There still are words.

My ultimate conspiracy theory. What's behind the funding of anti-global warming propaganda? Venusians, who've run out of living space, & have been messing with the monkeys on the third planet, so there would develop the internal combustion engine & in time create a runaway greenhouse effect to turn Earth into a replica of Venus.

"I didn't become rich, but I was usually comfortable. That is a social disease, the symptoms of which are the ability to ignore the fact that your society is developing weeping pustules and having its brains eaten out by radioactive maggots." --John Varley, "The Persistence of Vision" (1978)

Vast AMOK links page. (via Metafilter) --These days i'm more likely to peruse the "Scratch 'n' Sniff" part, but it's all good.

Altermodern. (via Momus)

A new edition of the classic cyber-prosepoem Carniverous Equations 2. (Don't accept any correctly spelled substitutes!)

   "The Passion of the Joker"

The morning's clear despair presents no challenge
to rabbits eating orchid after orchid.

It is holiday in Bedlam;
ev'ry thought begets its future comrade.

Black expiry: not knowing is a cadence
from which to view the distant growing tumult.

I wander with the grilse.
I carry no bodkin.

Today my ailment eases here, or almost,
sitting in line at a sunny backed-up Chevron.

Vampires don the alb
albeit fanged with comfort.

Don't come to me with questions of the wounded.

Father Matthew responds to the Blasphemy Challenge.

"Your/ Magic will be better than their magic..." --Spicer

    "The Revelator"

hawk wind · in the white tent
warrior grope · sunshine
purge · thwacker holiday

body from the earth · car with a new noise
carrion · warrior

i thought i'd skip the taxi · one bright and anxious day
so i set off down Wall Street · a-scurrying on my way
when all at once a jostling crowd · of pinstripe suits i saw
pouring through revolving doors · red in tooth and claw

yippie eye yay · yippie eye oh
ghost panic in · the sky

their shoes were black and shiny · their Rolex watches clinked
their laptops were on fire · their cell-phone screens all blinked
a bolt of fear shot through me · i watched the economy quake
for all the bankers running wild · who'd thrown away the brake

yippie eye yay · yippie eye oh
ghost bankers in · the sky

kids waving signs as i pass
school sponsored car wash
i was so ragged
folks used to call me Patches

hawk wind · in the white tent

you're here · there's nothing i fear
and i know that my debt will go on
we'll stay here forever this way
i am now in deep debt
and my debt will go on and on

"Old Irish distinguishes two kinds of sleep: súan and cotlud. Cotlud, the verbal noun of con-tuili, names sleep in general, including that which is in human control, a matter of personal decision... The term súan, by contrast, is usually restricted to designating magically overpowering sleep." --Jean Radner, in: Celtic Language, Celtic Culture (ed. Matonis & Melia, 1990)


   i understand that hard road
   where all that was is gone

O farm i don't know the location of
will you take us in
having driven with our last gas
out from the shattered suburb

we were starving in our dark house
and tired of hearing guns at night
we'll work at whatever you want us to
we don't require much

"One evening in the late 1940's I asked Frost whether he was fond of Beddoes, and he said he was; but he said so with what seemed to me a warning glitter in his eye, and i did not pursue the subject." --Wilbur (Previously on Xvarenah.)

More on Issue 1. --I've looked at some of the poems, and i strongly suspect they all were computer-generated. I will call the "author" Robot X., and hope to produce a Best of... anthology on Lulu presently.

McCain with a necklace of ears grins
i remember
books that were here before
in the shadowy stairwell
i wonder if i've left anything
bright sunshine and chill
and the sounds of sev'ral sirens
i look for her face
among the orderly pedestrians

Babylon a fall.

Forgiveness. (thanx Melanie!)

Contemporizing it.

Sid sings Syd.

    "Facade Importers Sales Analysis" (roundel)

  they killed to earn their living
  and to help out the Congolese

Magic for awhile was all we knew
and what we dreamed of, came to pass.
The world appeared to answer to our skew
magic, for awhile.

But we dove headlong through that crazy glass
to find our dreams lived only for a few;
the age not golden, but of brass.

Walls of dreaming mew
these victims of a rise in cost of gas,
these heroes now who fade like morning dew,
these workers housed in highrise crass
magic--for awhile.

Kunstler's reviewers raise a lot of interesting points about the (coming)("Tribulation"/SHTF).

That wind turbine link one of them mentions.

"In a time of bad communications, when any self-transcendence is hard to come by, to perceive the existence of a reality beyond all constructions of the consciousness is to experience a kind of call to prophecy." --Richard Wilbur

The suicide pact of Sister Smile. (via Metafilter)

Issue 1.

    "Ode to Early Detection"

  remembering games
  and daisy chains of loss

What rogue hopeful finagles the garbled anthem
in something like a telegraphic accent?

Why stupid makes us google: the broth is spoilt,
the toast is burnt, or passed off to a pygmy

free thrower. Where treason fails to prosper
there's always waterboarding, Beethoven's Ninth.

Such fisticuffs, such festivals of sulfur;
and we are here as on a darkling Shit-Happen,

impatient for the catchphrase and the formula.
I watch you closely. Exactions nil oblige.

So hopefuls on a swayed rope bridge vie bishop-
of-opposite-color quips, as iron poverty

descends on all. Call me a sourpuss.

Airless is the room of No one-Will-Ever-Read-This; & how prodigious the pretence of breathing there! --Yet it must be done.

Roach whisperer.

"We are given our place in time as we are given our eyes: weak, strong, clever, squinting, the thing is not ours to choose. Well, this has been a squinting, walleyed time to be born in. Fortunately, when most eyes see distortion as a matter of course, nothing bizarre is thought out of the way, and only a clear vision is abnormal." --Julian

I Am a Strange Loop.

Hawkwind in the White Tent...

Rasputin: the Opera. (via Cursor)

   "Power Holiday"

foreign blood
for crystal scattering lantern fray
for bloody accord
for crude follicle flowering bloodwork bark

of gore crystalline letters
fishhook iguana
antique Iblis bloodstone wonderment
go adorn
of gore crystalline scurry frozen dynasts

"In the years following the Revolution, a unique and short-lived fashion for funerary duels between two violinists had grown up in France: the soon to be deceased would leave a fragment of melody with his will, and two Funerary Violinists would improvise in turn upon the theme at the interment, each attempting to conjure more tragedy from it than his opponent--the winner being the artist who drew the most tears from the assembled crowd." --Rohan Kriwaczek, An Incomplete History of the Funerary Violin (2006)

The Art of Richard Powers.

SHTF thread on Metafilter.

From now on, i said, i want to get paid in euros.


my eyelids are smurf napalm
a death march into glorious solvency
my eyelids are the wind
taken to its logical conclusion

i suck the blood of Stephanie Meyer

fallen is "urban camo"
in our own landscape
veil Narcissus
a crow
against hot cement
something like a jukebox
and something like an electric chair

More on "the art of the funerary violin".

Resonances in conlangs.

As for these blog entries, of course i am tying paper flowers in the tail of my kite, and one day the kite will escape. That's the point.

" 'They--we--were betrayed. In our souls we have never been sure by whom. When we feel cheated we are ready to kill; and maybe we feel cheated all the time.' " --Gene Wolfe, "Seven American Nights," in: Best Science Fiction Stories (1980)

   "America's Deathwish Ably Abetted by Stooges"

Caribou Barbie · broad lid
abuts lore

pulpit ibis · paragraph grinding
above silver veldt · absolute problemist

road rally · add
flow · finger

idolatry fallout · able hulk
strung tsunami · flaw

"You must remember that because the mysteries come to an end makes them no less true." --Gore Vidal, Julian (1964)

   "The Economy Hanging Upside Down for Sixty Hours"

A strut crosses a trudge.
Ash bats splinter,
maple bats explode.

Someone has kicked
the Wolfgang Puck machine.
Erased anthems, evermurk

rosy morning skies,
in the way vampire night:

blogsilence · explained.

I get bailed out by the poorest of my constituents.

For the record--the end of Glass-Steagall.

Where to Now St. Peter?