Thursday, March 31, 2011

Teaching Broken English ( A manifesto)

A manifest/so what

If you mention, for example, bend bend bend bend bend their damn hologram And

mercy is a season

from the kitsch of winter

It's not that I want to be a kid again

but that I am the winner

all divisions are about winning

and I am divided

I am even beating myself

I am the winner

not winter not winter

no "t"

no crosses

at least not the kind you notice or speak of

(which covers you, the covert find) and you don't notice is speech-

sound as receding into the dimly lit hole in the middle, whole in the middle c, see, season, I told you, old you, 'done tried to tell u(se), yes you , the world ain't all that true

I've mentioned this before

more like five sounds/times/to the power of/no more ugly
exponents, such as wings w i (ll) I n g s

just flying in place

such as weaned off of the ego-ago-Agó -- Amé they hold to the middle of the earth

first supper

first supper minus one

that's what to mean by the Antiquefuture and the coup, superheroes, buttered roses and risen, you a foo' little

bunny foo/foo hopping through the forest like What forest?, buy us, fore us

was it relevant or was it a relief or I can't see nobody or I know a body who thinks life has everything to do with it only, which is very confused and the spirit news that I just crumpled up in my hand and made a basket

Tuesday, March 29, 2011


Love empties all possibilities of recovery. Falling in love is a one way ticket to the end of health. Barthes suggests that love is cyclic. /…/ This cycle strikes me not as love but flirtation, flirtation with survival. /…/ But love’s sole enthusiasm lies in consuming every possibility of falling in love again. /…/ The Love-Recovery cycle that Barthes maps in his works is of course Proustian but deeply resembles the ever refining self-fertilizing cycle of Aristotle (nothing must be wasted as it is needed in the next phase of the cycle, the next love, the next recovery from the last love). /…/ Love is only thinkable as one and only one tyrannical possibility: falling in love once and for all. R.N.

The Spinning Frontier

Sunday, March 27, 2011


Real thing
Real thing

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Marquee from Paradise Theater

And they'll lay you down low in the easy

(from Wars I have Seen, by association, but without witnessing

from the dialect of three lives (one journey beams in the blindspots

Feeling. Thought. Emotion. Aesthetics. Philosophy. Science. The instinct for form and technique. The instinct for a formal and a technical revolution. Some value displaced onto love and augmented as such

So now you go and you be easy, just go easy, be easy, down in the easy now, be easy, be as easy as you can.
Skip a few lines and you have a Gordy melody and place to place yourself if not be yourself, if not be your place


The Flame was the hottest spot in town. The Flame was letting your hair down.

Let it down slow in the easy, creases in Detroit's history where I can be seen forming, a sleek instinct for export, the dialect of experts letting a song go out of your heart as a type of ignition typeface igniting the wayward faces to look at it as advertises them... Living for you is easy living like three lives as one becoming the regenerative side of conflict, the lucky side that is spared and gets to see what it's lucky to not be; The easy side that gets to lay down high in the easy beside you

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

5 Cures

Supporters murmur, which isn't firm enough as language or as gesture, to arrive to where the wall rushes and driggs at his will to call her his song on the end of the world

Cultural attaché is a sad phrase, be sad about it and be happy that you are able because of daylight, delight, just because of daylight and the vague likelihood that it stays, that there will be no other end of the world and no over beginning

After the ghetto uprising has been extinguished or disguised in ritual and repeated, war is nature sped up, the pressure of this page on the others and the other others and love is war slowed down to repopulate the war. They are both so natural...Shhh...peaceful, it's about that time, it was about the time a couple hours ago

Pretend to be brave, and since bravery means different things in different places, here it means peace, pieces of risk in the epic, and of parody, and in all seriousness

subject to change the sequence of the epic, no more marches necessary ... Say it outloud, the weather of the word Upanishads or slipshod or soggy hospital after a hurricane, don't stop, or before a hurricane don't start to cry with it like a slave to the cane, taste the salt that became water to clear the blood of want and it worked

When I didn't want anything I wanted to want something, opposite hymns fighting their way into the light

Sunday, March 20, 2011

We were seeking the uninterrupted brotherhood of the real

as of the myth
our strengths here below had no limits but grace which is not a limit but a safe knowing
and too lazy for melancholy
we dragged the immeasurable equation across the all of itself and entered from the quickening blood of joy

I speak of the moment at which we have arrived
We want it and we won't give it up for anything
We are going forward, we have moved ahead

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Excerpt from a Prayer/ Commercial

Kick your illusions/them we pray come like a revolution


kick you a loose son who we pray from like a retro you, come... wait

Retribution/ tribute to, tribute too, wait

Kick your illusions and we break 'em like a..wait/... I'm confused now../..wait...

keep your illusion 'til the day come when they couldn't use 'em--

The lightness of faith/ what it faces/you/ weren't listening/I heard everything

as Eden, eden, brought to you by the Chrysler Corporation, eden, eden, he didn't...

leap apples...

the garden in me

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

My job remains in the thing as it is the moment before it's me

My job remains in the thinking as it is the moment before it becomes
My job
remains in the moment, before me, thinking. In the moment. My work/my word/my work/my word, wider as it is a worry left behind from wisdom and him, before me, reasons having to do with regions, of the slant/mind, limping in the planet which is limp with becoming the beauty of its damages. Fickle fractal orbit. In a final chance to look at it, observe how you'd have to actually become the thing, and the looking in order to keep living anywhere, you had to give up on yourself, give yourself up the moment before it becomes you and treat each loose return like a root thought hovering over the loss of itself until it shatters, of lightness, of leniency, of bosses who made you sick, of thoughtsickness, of the felons I can love when I am your mind. An effortless. It does not matter what the future proves you are doing and to misbelieve in spring on purpose in order to provoke it to be the thing I am thinking

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

One thing. One thing. One thing.

Tell me there is a meadow, afterward

A me

and nobody else

kicking off with the couplet, I... atomically/Socrates

Nine densely worded verses and no chorus


Saturday, March 12, 2011

3 Minute Heroes

Do you have any blue beats, I mean, blooming, the blue mingling with the green like the one scene or unscene, since we are the beginning, we try to be as mercenary as possible, because we want to conquer the world (fair play, by Nellee Hooper?), verse which sounds like a baseline, and it's not even about black soldiers, (we know these chords work, like words) Just multiply this by 1.1 million. It's not even about black soldiers. Nor playing anything electric, more that we are electric and..


how to Be

Somebody New

Friday, March 11, 2011

Winning Numbers (United States of Mind)

Some nerve, some nerve, that summer, to shed your bill on the 1

What does the sun sound like up near its rounds, I wonder

The drummer driving in heavy traffic, on a fast drug, tempted to crash, speeds instead

Does the sun get tempted in defense of itself, to cool our haunts, to flaunt some gone dependency, I mean really, long gone enough to linger like a phony regret or digression prone against regret--

I don't think I've been to Compton, not for comprehension, not for competency, not even for dinner on a full moon Saturday night

Exposition. Self-justification. Shafts of light flung back like spheres from the dash between places and destinations

The day I took off my mask my face was missing for 2 days

If you count to when, backwards, you reach this luck of hats which pass the heat through rhythms and last in every lifetime

The trip home from where I've been makes me pass where I haven't, a numb wave of happiness drum-set in the passenger seat like a sand castle won't come undone where there are people in it

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Song of the Towers

Dayshine, deyshine, spines in the air/road/area code/ minaret/no/know-- Ignore the way he leans on the exit less like two wheels no more mores too wielded anyway, like nights in a field of blue limbs reaching, getting rich on the wind, day moores like Othollo might, if you give him his yellow bright bird, live, between sentences and senses of program, on the handle of a dull evening, a day shining back its neon score board, I'm yours, and yours, lean on me, pull me up before the buzzer

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The True Swifts are Flying

My sense of convergent evolution was that it had to do with love, which meant it had to do with hate, which meant trouble does not lead to discouragement but there is a chance something candid will skim you like a misfit boomerang and you will wake up with its language for land and limb. Thinking about the dreams as they are happening. Tense elegance. The true swifts or torpor or landing or damn/dim wound I planned you a conduit not this coal truck shipped fuel don't fall don't fuel don't fall from it