Monthly Archives: December 2019

The Daily Ablution There is a boy whose head is on fire.   A nine year old boy who has recently dispensed with god and love because they dispensed with him.  His father beats his mother on occasion — preferably in … Continue reading →

opening: the sperm switch (cut-up poem #627) about 15 people  are considering a man from the lab fathering children  they don’t know and endlessly repeating  the next generation   “Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose … Continue reading →

You Cannot Be Anything If You Want To Be Everything In her dream she was at a garish fairground carnival under a cloudless dayglo blue sky.  She was separated from her parents.  She panicked.  She was lost in this strange … Continue reading →

Perfect Disasters The devil is making appearances on a daily basis.  I’m making something of a Herculean effort to quash this Sisyphean impulse.  My parents come home early and discover me playing with large cockroaches while the guitar in the … Continue reading →

Fall Fall.  Fall, I say.  She doesn’t.  She stays perched on her branch.  Fall, I say.  She does not.  This ritual —  the repetition is liturgical.  A call and response in absentia.  There is no rejoinder.  There is no: and also with … Continue reading →

trash dash:  manhattan iii.   behind me a college student tried to convince a young girl to elope the ritual of the second drink —    demulcent for a moment —    the argument lost it’s tune like a good … Continue reading →

Manos: A Slice of My Memories (a blackout poem)   Christmas was sheer terror. Every year as dark descended, my mother appeared — ghastly hands perched at the end of the table ancient twins:   A slice of fixed mistrust. … Continue reading →

film drama is the opium of the masses dziga vertov’s  camera eye has detached its retina –   click, whir –   a reddish yellow mass of seething altered state   kino-kism: glowing white-hot to-blue eye,   the whirring swallows … Continue reading →

trash dash: manhattan ii.   polyphonic dream vision sonorous in plastic tubing limned transducers and sound scriptures in a garden of minimal fences   sonic spaces expand from properties shaped of bird-like sounds   the genesis of silver clouds and … Continue reading →

at the catholic hospice my atheist father is tracing lines in the air they’re shooting at us from the barricades, he says it’s a half mile away and i felt the bullet fly by my head the bastards are down … Continue reading →