hard

to stay

angry and must



wash

across my

wars gray thalassa

se lalxu mu'e klama le
xecto lenku lunbra
.i .uocai nunpla .i .u'e
.io le satci minji
ba'o xunkadypagre
le la taityn. noi carmi
darno ku'o selyla'u
.i krefu cu'eku .uonai

(Lak*shor* arrival at th* hundr*d-cold gr*at-moon. Plan [gr*at-compl*tion!]. [R*sp*ctful-wond*r!] th* pr*cis* machin* has trav*rs*d th* r*d dimn*ss to far Titan's marg*. Will w* *v*r again?)

Am*rican Aurora.

Landing.


   II.

Dawn, swift, indigo
pouring across highways;
all of us just quit
smoking and big box shops
mushroom blindly up,
turning to a clown boss
as if numinous
as if knowing a way
in this indigo
pouring in this lungfish
drowning cairns abolish.

   III.

pouring indigo
a blind mushroom numinous
in lungfish highways
cairns big box shops out turning
pouring big clown flowing boss

Using classic rock in tv car ads--was this how hip young Xtians would look at using old pagan holidays and myths, in Roman days?

A 19c. woman from Norway writing in T*xas...

"Twilight in Plano, I."

In this far suburb world of big box shops that mushroom blindly along highways, it is not so crazy that its pallid, plump inhabitants should turn to a Dubya as if numinous, as if worthy to follow. No history or natural world can chip at its blank horizons; location and causality both, its cairns abolish.

" 'It’s E, see? Three of ‘em in that p’ticelr name Keeler. Well, it means ‘at ev’ry t’ird line from the end of the story back for, twenty or thirty say, is culled out by strikin’ off the other two. And the e’s in each of them lines.’ Rudy stopped, perceiving that there might not be but one or two. 'The e’s,' he amended quickly, 'plus the typewriter spaces in each of them lines counted, see? And the count in each spells out a few words--by alp’bet’cal places, see? Like 1 for A, 2 for B--an’ so on, see?'
'Well, I’ll be damned!' commented Caldwell, almost admiringly." --Harry Stephen Keeler and Hazel Goodwin, The Case of the Transposed Legs (1948)

"Injustice is the binding force that makes our false world cohere. We can no more think of a world without injustice than a world without gravity. (Money is only the visible sign of this relation.)" --Jack Nastyface, Tsunami (1969)

"The number one killer in the world is dysentery, but you don't see anyone going around wearing brown ribbons, do you?" --Katherine Russell Rich, The Red Devil (1999)

Into song variants?

'Komitas is to Armenians what Chopin is to Poles: their musical genius. ...He wandered around villages collecting songs. He established tens, others say hundreds, of Armenian choirs. He was a wandering balladeer; he improvised epics; he sang. He created hundreds of compositions, magnificent, great, known to all the Philharmonic orchestras of the world. He wrote masses, sung to this day in Armenian churches.

In 1915 the massacre of Armenians began in Turkey. Until the time of Hitler, it was the greatest massacre in world history: 1.5 million Armenians perished. Turkish soldiers dragged Komitas up on a cliff from which they were going to push him. At the last minute his pupil, the Sultan of Istanbul’s daughter, saved him. But he had already seen the abyss, and this made him lose his mind.

...He lived on for twenty more years. He did not make a sound.' --Ryszard Kapuscinski, Imperium (1993)

"Fuzwp Oqwmg"

this wintry noonday
slowly drawing away
soaring why?
a rising icy mist
was pursuing nova of -
that horror which stalks

good-old labyrinth blood
in a storm within
...all.
was shadowy and lost
crimson amphibian all stumps soft
labyrinth cant why how but grow

with myriad, vast sight
amphibian blood
- down grow glass
things luminous why stalk
shook its hawk wings
martyr nostalgia

star for mark fungus carnivorous
booming in fitful gusts
pursuing stark living soaring shaft of nothing
bad pill, tomb
...now did cant. soaring coughing -
unwilling admiration of

forms waving and rustling
this wintry noonday
awful hum and murmur
was shadowy and lost
such unorthodox conditions
go of his own accord

Hurufit*s.

Floating citi*s.

TruckDogs.

For fans of Johnny Guitar only.

A dialog in history.


"One does not ask the social value of mountain climbing: and there is a kind of poetry corresponding to that--autotelic, intolerant of ease." --Krakatoa E. Simoleon, Azazel (1933)


"Prison Library"

This is the way i holy
normal work stalking shadowy word

noxious out
shadow star / did burning do drip Carcosa

infamous ghost that
wants to put burning in diamond

loud morrows
soft luminous blood zonda

"I Think I’m Going to Laugh"

-burning of fungus. nova math
-drip sinking. to triumphant lamp

of down transplant star - us nova nova
midnight grip gun

pursuing nova junk - spurting
skin loathing atomic - burning Ubar

/did burning do drip
. sinking - grip rain


"Diglossia"

how can i this stark stalk
in in do not. living and vacuum pursuing junk
loathing all its crispy frost
skin sands shadow
living sinking - hollow
of fungus and stalk
in in of for it / spray with
glacial blood to go glad
of down transplant star - us nova nova
black wind star.
do star? not. -

watch a bug across it crawl


"Just Not Into You"

. / of fungus vugg
of down transplant star - us nova nova wood

for with amphibian
. / do star. it. down flip moon

carnivorous star / can’t
can’t grip rat. lingo

transplant grip sinking / for last
amphibian vacuum ions

Start nixing this bunch.

Alas.

"Ialdabaoth"

nova what that black doing
van rain tyrant
quasar it dark

hollow star
junk what transplant mark night
vacuum luminous

a glass playground ghoul
black doing
spray it black


"Plutonian Nativity"

It was a snail of murmuring
arachnid paradox / abyss so
loathing dark coma

and all slim, gracious blind
king bug dragon
do but dark
carnivorous wind

transplant star?
last is sinking
find that tall child?
solar monday no

nothing doing good-old glacial who.
.poison god.
amphibian is sinking


"Kings"

dusting his wisdom
stalk was vacuum

grinning ghost
disastrous lungfish

glass continuum night crimson living
of spurting shadow

quark dark
.brain days that?

paradox transplant
black spray hard black

"How can people think that artists seek a name? A name, like a face, is something you have when you’re not alone. There is no such thing as an artist: there is only the world, lit or unlit as the light allows." --Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm (1977)


'To receive applause for works which do not demand all our powers hinders our
advance toward a perfecting of our spirit. It usually means that thereafter we stand still.' --Lichtenberg


"Tsunami"

-amphibian blood luminous in hard coma - fall
fall loathing
burning star giant many many
going nothing
nothing hard now

was triumphant asylum sinking what star.
glass loathing
nothing doing nothing
to hollow midight star can’t
labyrinth giant

/junk in that.
nova junk
shadow star
to transplant in that.


"Praying Badly"

carnivorous star
luminous coughing hustling hard
glacial blood
stumps hard and stalk

for last is soaring
glacial star
black junk soft with
soaring glass

dark continuum transplant burning
star wind
night with stark
coma transplant now to loathing not fungus all runic
.hustling of soft.

"/irony"

in glacial did nothing crispy
but color crackling vacuum
cryptic labyrinth
all down and nothing junk
to brain you drip soaring
to brain midnight
crimson midnight raw so color
of not out solar monday no
and) no off.


"Four Yarons into a Tribulation"

? do asylum grow so.
runic things
grinning past sharp stark plasma
of dusky soaring
cryptic sands?
giant star runic. of dusky living
stalk last
what coma
asylum was phantom
soaring to you stark


"Narrow Laughs"

crispy atrocity lost
that nova shaft dark
coma in asylum?

stark stalk continuum why junk how
blood so coughing with continuum
raw why wrong

you burning for it

I think about a holiday in which intimacy was sought and not satiation; a holiday for finding out, not filling up. Solitary illuminations without this vast compulsion of do what you should and don't ask why. I walk on a cold road, and cars roar past as if in stark pursuit. I slow down, astray.

"In Kulchur (Spring 1962) Jonathan Williams has an imaginary movie cast to play the modern poets--Edward Everett Horton as T. S. Eliot, Lon Chaney, Jr, as Robert Frost, Adolph Menjou as Edward Dahlberg, Cary Grant as James Laughlin. As Louis Zukofsky he casts Fred Astaire." --Charles Tomlinson, Some Americans (1981)

"Requiem for the Plantagenet Kings

For whom the possessed sea littered, on both shores,
Ruinous arms; being fired, and for good,
To sound the constitution of just wars,
Men, in their eloquent fashion, understood.

Relieved of soul, the dropping-back of dust,
Their usage, pride, admitted within doors;
At home, under caved chantries, set in trust,
With well-dressed alabaster and proved spurs
They lie; they lie; secure in the decay
Of blood, blood-marks, crowns hacked and coveted,
Before the scouring fires of trial-day
Alight on men; before sleeked groin, gored head,
Budge through the clay and gravel, and the sea
Across daubed rock evacuates its dead."

--Geoffrey Hill, For the Unfallen