"Swampsploitation"

Hattie's on the side of ecstatic
a hero-monster frets no more, eh?

corridor of crimson
thole the edged diversions

this is not your average vampire rock star novel

horrific penance imposed
noises in the walls
power tools through the ventilators
or a brick through the window?

sous-veillance
of the Smilometers
Panov fandango
indigo fontanelle aversive uffish...

hangman and
addressbook watching adjunct Mapsco infrared

Ogpu for wish until educate
rictus Ogpu homily


Tori + Maynard.

"Our Eyes Thirst for Bright Orange"

i see the water moving in the dark intersection
the shadow solider · than what casts it
to leave in die vain night ice acid
on hot pink paper write broad cerulean
until now
until the end of the world
dried up snail & the last birds calling
under this pewter dome
craquelure
craquelure chrome
these black bitter hills
my own Sanskrit was born in
like a torch
fuming without lazily
hate voyage like bright help golem ruin awash
push one pawn forward
you can't opt out
and the odds're against
and the sea is contrary
and we never knew why until now
until
the end of the world

Sheikh Mohammed explains what 'Nabatipopular' poetry is.

we say "there will"
(there and there will be no sea)

not "you will" or "i will"
and the specific gut-ache
of a certain day in a certain year

this machine fills karcists
on safari with Meep & Glibber
while this machine is to him

wrapped up in black wool
just sitting by a dim lamp
waiting for the drugs to take effect

departed am i who loathe the snow
of my summers
something like that

the lines blurring
as the pencil wears down


"I came across this tiny traditional looking café when walking through the Medina."


Red Hot Patriot.

"Words for Snow in Late March"

'It would shatter all writing pens.' --Rumi

1.
denialists' sapphire
not visible anywhere
it's broken
and it won't get fixed
now that's value
arrive sooner
at destitution
the snow on the hood piled
four inches thick

dateline Hobbesian gnosticism

tawaf Elvis
it would shatter all our writing pens
get it on the first ring
in the desert
you can remember your name

2.
catch it on the second ring
brindled fire
in which we see · fathoms past loneliness
the help that is sure to come

3.
tundra, chull, exurb sprawl
oxygen facial starveling hordes
starveling art & starveling song
why can't zombies get along

flagfallen fired-up ignoramuses
certain of their "Pi is Three"
pushing at the trough & wild
to choose the worse in ev'ry trial

i'm made as well by this mad world
nor scathe-free look at it from high
my rodeo clownship ends with this:
desiring more at each witdimpse

4.
relentless queue while over & over
someone's being paged


Na'vi follow-up.

"Breakage High & Low"

'And strains from ruinous viols flown' --Smith

still half immersed in some pluperfect sleep
erasing for awhile viol-troubled day
i rise & hear beyond our mortgaged keep
thunder that means to stay

though one oblivion's purchase wasn't cheap
here in the gloom another's pending sway
draws with the force of dream and dreamless gray
remorse my trickle & seep

i bring to birth term echo & ricochet
of what's already lost; dissolute clay
begins to creep
from the drab cacophonous heap

clay, & a breathing more than mine


Scarlet Music.


"Let’s consider what the President would have to say to the American people if he decided to tell them the truth in no uncertain terms..." (via Kunstler)


Meanwhile, in other poetries... (via Silliman)


No more ACORN. (via Metafilter)

"Essential Tremors"

1.
and maybe there are
discrete acts of violence
which punctuate
the imaginary slide
things in this house that don't work
impetus fallen
alien ultion silk town sprocket
festering stark
tulpa · psalmwards of gastropod ill-ultimate
next antic faster slouch
with next antic summit alien
stark silk font
of Asgard Branton

2.
i see the water moving in the dark intersection
erasing for awhile this troubled day
golden the street grayish blue beyond the trees
very fake looking
i hadn't expected that
British Racing Green, and rust
after awhile the colors seem the name of something
if i weren't unable to say what i have learned

taillight glow appears in the dark
beyond the rain-scrambled glass
backing up and why not
did i mention the cold
wrapped up as i am in shards of sweets


"In what lies the arachnidity of formlessness?"


"If it's any consolation, the thieves who run the health insurance companies will still get to deny coverage to adults with pre-existing conditions for the next four years."


"I'll notify the Texas board of Education at once."

yogurt drying on the spoon
bricks mostly straw

confirmation
number of the beast

misshapen
lifelong ignorance

wellbeing only as deep
as the warmth from this cup

path ending
abruptly in the autumn woods


"But I think that none of the possible identity positions in themselves, whether regional, sexual, racial or class based, no matter how non-normative they could seem in terms of centrist positions and their programmatic exclusion from those centres, is any guarantee of a particular subversion of genre." (via Silliman)


"Of course, the loss of our troops (over 4,200 dead and 30,000 wounded) and treasure (three trillion dollars according to economics Nobel laureate Joseph Stiglitz), the perversion of our language, the mangling of our laws, the broken bodies and tortured brains of our veterans really bear no comparison with the suffering we have inflicted on the citizens of Iraq."