Wednesday, November 28, 2012

boy gives hug after owl story, speaks of love, complains

open your mouth when you speak
find some kind of love in enunciation
or else you just dead wood uh uh
hardly here
barely alive
algorithmic Bletchley Park
betrayal of of all humanity
by folding with the fear

bagpipes, black and white
popped up veins roses
the conclusion of the system of things


Thursday, November 22, 2012

ugh a claw in the blood

ugh a claw in the blood
teeth blue with words that will not wait
.............................I also will not wait
I will not deliver babies
or think or wait or want
I have nothing to do with smoke or images
I will not go wanting
tonight I will scratch it out
in dead chitin, triplicate, in the sand and blood
the dust that speaks.............whirling
I will write all poems everywhere
with a chicken's claw the blood from my thigh
..............................light lit light upon light
.....................................all these faraway inner edges


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

The Triggerfish Critical Review #10 is now available online, featuring lots of excellent poetry and reviews, with astonishing artwork by John Brosio, who I had the pleasure of interviewing. All this fantastiferous slurp is available just a short click away here!


Tuesday, November 20, 2012


get your coats on boys
we are going out looking
for nothing



deer tracks

deer tracks through the shrubs
all of us looking foolish
as the train goes by



slumping bookcases
oh all those words
what a burden



beck by the mill
silent with all its lost
old trollies

curtains fly out
in the late night winds
cold eyes staring


hard poor corn

all the night beat down like wet corn
black crop circles
saying nothing

even the owls run out
the wind stopped in its tracks
flies dropping from the mouths
of dead bats over the doorway
last sputters of stone sonar coming down
like honeydew, not bouncing
silenced all of it like a beat prisoner tied up
to a chair slumping as the clanging stops
the blooded guys saying shit
he got away this

even the chair bouncing
laughing confetti
through the corn


Monday, November 12, 2012

stairs from there to here

of the rising and the going I sing
of the nosing and the string
our earliest habitations
had no such elevations
no treads or risers
no such lofted dreams
no tiptoed surprises
to upper-storeyed memes
back then without cares
we rested vilely
at the foot of no stairs


Sunday, November 11, 2012

a crawling TV active already

the Chinese dominate baskets
... be surprising a false flag pulled off area 'ie'
I wouldn't put flowers in the gun barrel just yet
for several decades and then one day they just told you 
how is that possible?

A U.S. Embassy spokeswoman in Manila, Tina
said Wednesday that the fishing boat had started talking on water 
the previous day 
war within 60 days. probably .... for several decades 
and then one day they told you to FUCK OFF 
  in error, not intentionally

 Haartz Newspaper in Israel reported that Bibi was pissed
 oh he sent me flowers after insulting me for something or other

my words seemed to sink in


the hitching stone oct 2012

look out kid Obama coonskin cap
coonskin anyway, Cap
these laws made to resist tyranny now
diverted into bullying impasse oh oh
the pump don't work
she, Jefferson, has everything she needs
to paint the daytime anything she sees
it's all very well but
not forever
not with all these children
rushing all over like wild rats
in the heather
where the buboes lurk at the witchstone
where the fayres went
where the rock of everything for bathing
yeah that and the graves
the mass the fuck imagine if he wuz blacker


never buy discount time machine mama

skinny fuck
what you like that fer?
shoulda seen my
as though the clouds had names
or some rabbit now ruled the world
it's cold all over the shadow now
at dawn examining my fingertips
looking for what happened
how this bed full of blood and cockroaches
became the Oracle
to which people far/wide
flocked to witness
what really


the snuffle of a coming future

if this gets too real please

O his dread in that moment is that
he will die and leave everything behind
the blindness and the yellow
for the inheritance
the mother thing, let us not misremember
one day my son he shouts at the vast window
above the city nightfall
all of this will be yours

(China fills capsules with human baby flesh etc)

where is your outrage at this?
oh there yes

all of us from the outer wards huddled
in dressing gowns
around the victims
just in case

if this gets too real please
approach an attendant


this way, quick

there's always going away, there's always that
when all else
sail away like a light bulb that went out
in someone's kitchen by the canal
while they slept
dreaming of the ripples that ate at the cracks
that appeared in the icing of the faces
which ate at the ice with such utter looks, look—

this tension of trying to preserve power and safety
it must be a disaster for the nerves
I suggest giving in to everything
then eating cake for some time

like moles, moving always on
blind if necessary


the cousin wields great standards

now again the fluted convoluted roundhere
of the unworthy house and occupant
it is too late I will call you tomorrow
your fingers your fingers out there white as
another night
everything you say I say she says has, she says
uh, attachments, detachments, malicious scripts
your evidence is not evidence-based
this house is not that ugly or filthy
I reserve the right to put things in it
most of all whoever
when the curtains part
is first seen looking out
at the filthy fog along the river
where the deer don't dance