I think truck, a pretty buckle-studded road of sheer amber lighting, no more suffering
vehicle, clean ceiling, leak in the hope called child, no more such a thing. Liken the child to hope-likeliness- sofabed, something corrupt and fussy and perfect that leads you to keep going
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
I know this duality, this double nostalgia
There is a solitude in seeing you, followed by your company when you are gone
There is a blindness in seeing you, followed by the sight of you when you are gone
There is a blindness in seeing you, followed by the sight of you when you are gone
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Moon. Tide. Puppet.
Pulp-puppet tied to such a shore as if it was/as if it wasn't me, or according to something giant as the bloom'sbeam becomes to utter its only lines in tongues/ to the atlas/ do the brackets indicate people getting along, or people so similar they are at war along the lines of assimilation, chanting I'll win the way I've always done, by being gone when they come
I think it means some limbs made sunstark in the sand (a flag up, a hand you clutched in the dark) on the basis of the strings pulling them from unreplacement. Not that they were buried there. (Fixed. Fix me.) That they were there. That to be barely there worked better, like the red segment of any night. Where the freight of bimbos and overt thinking mingles in those dances done between prayers to ibis--Flipping through an atlas you notice the black bodies. Looking at it meticulously, you notice no one. Flipping through it again, you grow an ego. That causes you abandonment. The word we all duck with lies and husbands until, flipping through it again, you aren't its rival, it has no use for you. People stay as close as they go and the only distance showing flips through me in a tunnel the shape of remembering forward is like a spell without the effort or satire, or like us before the atlas and before ibis and it's all alright
Friday, April 22, 2011
Truth is in the way
The earth is made of heaven. (He meant heathens, he meant)
Error has no nest (maybe when you're ready. The rest is home already. The already of them)
No one has ever been lost (no one will ever be lost)
All is truth and way (truth is in the way, he meant, of earth, patiently. Moving toward. Moving four words into Adam. That planet of moods that stoops to numb some nights with him)
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Principalities
If you hear yourself scream in a dream it is said to mean something unbreakable is happening. That's what it means. Fat penned graffiti on the yuppie's gathering bricks. Which one is me. Which one is listening. Which one is the scribe who writes through espionage to attention, to go on undetected. Like, yeah, what.?, I said it. To keep a part of the record kept, and kite weather. I tend to like the acoustics of flying more than the scream that flung me into it. But it was worth it. I watched the means replenish. Hipsters wearing tender jeans. Rappers wearing tender jeans. Executives. It's not the tenderness of trust, it's the tenderness of fear. Otherness blue. It frightens me. It trusts me. To be what's proper of otherness. And it's kinda infantilizing. The scream. The them. The pen. The denim. The tendering. Othering. No the other one. And whichever one woke me up to unbroken numbers, up to the once. To the 1 again.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Heterotopic Phrases
Can you lend a nigga a pencil
or some kind of ritual
I am speaking. I am singing. Must have sung all day
Can you lend a nigga pencil, now. The sun is a kind ritual. Is it called "Chicken Run" or "Chicken Don't Run," band. Either way, I'll stay, maybe join and play the triangle. Cause that reminds me of the delta. Southern chivalry. All the love. All the luck. What does it mean for the army ("to many young musicians, today's army is an attractive, meaningful alternative to a job or career in civilian life," the ad read, a chance to travel) if I shred their banner wiggling in the air like loose barricades after a blast, and saying something triumphant about some blind ritual like Good Morning, Sunshine, I ain't the cat y'all saw yesterday Please don't climb those ladders
Friday, April 15, 2011
Manhattan Research (delicate heir)
There's an advantage to lumping all your fears together, so they don't get mixed up with other things
I fear the dictator, up close. Once he hung a man for picking an American's pocket, I read, in an essay on Zaire where there was dictator up close. There's a disadvantage to lumping all your loves together and calling it a place or to govern is a disadvantage. You love them all. Admit it. One by one. Dissolving. You love them all.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
My gestures break away from me
And I see them in the air, like the vanes of a windmill, and I feel my life circulating inside them
A pretense the size of insight or
What creed meant inside a speech, what it meant in a name, and silently, if you leave a space for it was ready to be a motion, something meaningless before its rhythm. Some runaway sense made me stay, let him stay, believing in patterns, patrilineal, all the wrong shields attend all the righteous with temptation and let them turn to it. Our gestures break away from us as what togetherness does to push us apart. The sparkle of physics translates to the crackle of rain and back
to the ark
we hid in a fable in their favorite book. Rebel army. Red rain dream. Famous venue. Fancy back seat. Practicing parallels
(We be their) Militant fantasy. To float in the space between
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A Prelude of Courtesies (Taurus in the Arena of Life)
He said Otherwise you'll wander forever, in an absurd shadow, seeking what you never gave
Slave name. Slave name. Pointing away from yourself. Scolding the very things you desire.
Memory is more like hope than anything
You fill me with--
And the erotic is what not to mention
Even if it exists (gods were never decent) it's wrong to be certain
Our elemental unison
My world of dreams fashioned in broad daylight
Yes, that is what gives
Monday, April 11, 2011
Intercom/Aftercalm
We all met at the Hot Bird
We gentrified Brooklyn together
I tried to get him to apologize, I wasn't gonna be the one...
Instead he became less and less interesting
His form an apology,
And how I nearly believed him, before it became true
There are liars, and storytellers, and a bonfire of the vanities (the man I love, I love him easy, his name comes easy, his main alias is me, scanning the celebration looking for my reason to be where he isn't, walking on the wings of the moment now
All clichés lead to California
Belief that the machine, in a swarm, seems human, and humming a proof tune
Disenchantment/disenchantment at the Hot Bird, Hot Bird, Hot Bird, we cheered and Nearly God was closer, so far, from what I heard
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Vivre Sa Vie
Now Near. Now Far.
It was all commercials. Him/her/it/them, whatever
It was all commercials Him/her/it them, whatever
It was all
commercials
him-her---it--------them, whatever
Then he interrupted... you know, scales are really feathers, if you look at a scale you can tell. It plans to become a feather. In about two million years
We waited there, chasing each ray and each terror, into the light with impatience alone
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
We are addressing you (may we succeed)
I can hear what you're saying, he concedes
On the poise of heroes
Where the space sings back to you, irreducible you
The new listening: fidelity
The new speaking: skipping unevenly back to the start after every bar
The new silence: (It is very tedious) all appreciation as renunciation
It is the only way to one, the new sublime, a show of hands, is very tedious, and
there is no one or other left to blame for newness or what faith is at the last minute, is just the first minute anyways, a reenactment
Monday, April 4, 2011
Holy Calamity
Reflection works well when stationary or being everywhere, my pending being reflex-reflex-- unseen
The linear mind comes in and tries to talk you out of it, or in, as an origin of the space between letters was breath, if you calm down you get i n n u e n d o, west facing window, go-rain, a water cheer, keep spilling the glass down itself in that capillary of an arrangement we have
Though later I will learn about him, and about the bridge. Hill not his, hills not his
Ganja, Hess, Narcissus and a gold crib, called home from the rib, hip word for cages built dry from the cryer, shy apple, Griot, Djeli... and Vesperrrr fa , fuh, farther and what a whispered scream reverses of a silhouette.
My feet get in the air and be neighbors
Dear, sober one, be near me and Malcolm said we are afraid to bleed, not me, yes me, not you, yesterday, 1965, an untraining I tried turned out like high-road
not sobriety, gunslinging bird of a whistled scream, paradise's fleeing feeling,
A river's feet in the air... good neighbor, neighbor, life-sized toy train, making the shape of learning cursive, or what a curse is, swirls, blesses, and besides this, wrists so delicate they can jive and give at the same time, they exit, they are hip, at the same time they ancient
Get out of my word, memory, for what it's worth, short list of neighbors braiding the shores together, but trust, is not just a togetherness thing, get out of his words
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
April flows beneath the skin
A raw blue human place for kindred, or professional and distant
It's just the simple past skips infinitives like natives passing their seed to hostile boats unassumingly, ships I mean, but they called them boats to be kind and generous
to be conquered on each journey through tenses, the world takes character and breaks it into since songs, take care of her
Talk her there -- and there
except that you is a form of gratitude clasping as the verb-black moonlight, raspy with honor, smooth with nerve
and this thing I am drawing
and it stays drew
He said it almost makes you wanna go grab a bottle and be that Sambo they thought you were in the first place
I said what if you were given permission to shed the safety of history, vendor, ven diagram, vendetta, hi-hat slammed west, would you stay black as April skinned into Juneways, and not on paper property or some contained damage makes for beauty-- I would stay
It's just the simple past skips infinitives like natives passing their seed to hostile boats unassumingly, ships I mean, but they called them boats to be kind and generous
to be conquered on each journey through tenses, the world takes character and breaks it into since songs, take care of her
Talk her there -- and there
except that you is a form of gratitude clasping as the verb-black moonlight, raspy with honor, smooth with nerve
and this thing I am drawing
and it stays drew
He said it almost makes you wanna go grab a bottle and be that Sambo they thought you were in the first place
I said what if you were given permission to shed the safety of history, vendor, ven diagram, vendetta, hi-hat slammed west, would you stay black as April skinned into Juneways, and not on paper property or some contained damage makes for beauty-- I would stay
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