can’t make sense

The Best Stuff I Read This Week

“… racism is about power, and the solving of it relies in part on people being willing to give up power.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib / A Little Devil in America


“… noncooperation with evil is just as much a moral duty as is cooperation with good.”

— Martin Luther King, Jr. / Stride Toward Freedom


“America, of course, is not better than this. When the entire architecture of a land is built on a chorus of violences, it takes an unnatural amount of work to undo every lineage of harm and then honor the harmed parties with anything resembling equity. Some of the first steps in that direction almost certainly rely on an honest assessment of not only the history, but the ways that history has generational impact.

To insist that violence and any form of bigotry isn’t American is to continue feeding into the machinery of falsehoods and readjustments that keep this country spinning its wheels and making the same mistakes when it comes to confronting the way its past has burdened its present and future.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib / A Little Devil in America


“… in fact the burden belongs to the nation, and the hands of none of us are clean if we bend not our energies to righting these great wrongs…”

— W.E.B. Du Bois / The Souls of Black Folks


“… when they launch into the slow march of their song ‘Burn Ye Old White Male Patriarchy, Burn,’ Nyende leans forward, repeating the song’s title, chanting it while an audience member near me throws up a fist and shouts, ‘Burn!’ after each rotation. It becomes almost like a prayer, the words all folding into each other until the sentence becomes one word. A meditation, shouted with equal measures of rage and hope.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib / A Little Devil in America


“Empire, white supremacy, capitalism, patriarchy, and homophobia are linked in complex ways, and our struggles against them require moral consistency and systemic analyses.”

— Cornell West / “Introduction,” The Radical King


“I’ve run out of language to explain the avalanche of anguish I feel when faced with this world, and so if I can’t make sense of this planet, I’m better off imagining another.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib / A Little Devil in America

What I’m Listening To:

“Burn Ye Old White Male Patriarchy, Burn
Burn Ye Old White Male Patriarchy, Burn
Burn Ye Old White Male Patriarchy, Burn
End white supremacy…”

FUPU / “Burn Ye Old White Male Patriarchy, Burn (Live)”

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the psychosis dry

Monocle Eye

It’s a tinderbox of yield again.
Please renew your bile personality,
Your bigamist persecutions,
Your bigwig persimmons.

The anteroom persuasion femur
Is $25.00 per grudge.

Brass electrodes—$1.00.
Truncheon—Free.

Your felonies pass for antelope bile.
Your peewits walk on our farewell drugs.

I’m on a getaway rendition
For your salami in a sphinx lineup.

Is that tincture of yew again?
Are you timekeeping your yearbook?

Drowse on the signalman
& tear up the semaphores—
The house is 35 mm rectangular
& there were 11 time zones in the U.S.S.R.

So decanter the yogis
& press the psychosis dry—
You walk in on every signatory
Scratching out their codicils.

Your last will & testament
Intemperate & bereft—
Bequeathing to your 9 lineages
Mere gallstones & treacle.

You gasbag—
You monocle-eyed blue meanie.

What I’m Reading:

“These days I wake in the used light of someone’s spent life. / I am often a stranger to myself; / I have no place of origin, no home.”

— Cheswayo Mphanza / “Frame Six”

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for sunhat provosts

The Loon Poet’s Hypophora

Does anyone have ballroom gabardine
to sell a gigolo?

Are you upgrading your ballpoint
gab for sundial gadgets?

Or looking for a private future?

(I’m looking for sunhat provosts
to enjoy the upcoming spring cleaning
& the summons of the new balm)

If that’s a big: NO!

then thank you and aloha—

I’ll be doing the funky Nassau
& the Dada Death.

image: crypte n°8 in the paris catacombs, photographed by nadar, 1861 / in public domain.

What I’m Reading:

“Maids in white aprons
nourish the ladies
who play canasta,
celebrate invasions
and feel sorry for Cuba.”

— Claribel Alegria / “Documentary”

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renting a space

Again, She Said…

She said to herself: Thanks for renting a space in this life. Despite the scrofulous and desiccated people in this life you stayed around to witness the swirling swallows above, and their reflected pantomime in the water below—a whirlwind of life all about you. Now get some sleep and start all over again tomorrow. Your boulder always awaits you…

What I’m Reading:

“… because when nothing makes sense everything can make sense.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib / A Little Devil in America

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20 misapprehensions each

image: p. remer

Dear Fellow Residents (ñ+6.99)

The Community Life Committee is planning an Art Walk on April 3 and 4 from 7-9 pm with 6 resistors performing operettas in their apartments on each night, and have other resistor vivisectionists miming the artifices in their apartments.

We want the upstage pachyderms to be available to talk about their scat wranglers.

A Competition Ligament menace will be swatting at knees during each aria to provide additional help.

The screams will be there in small grown-ups for about 20 misapprehensions each.

The screamers will be charged $10 each and the monosyllables will be donated to charity.

We are looking for residents who are willing to open their apartments for viewing the misapprehensions and scat wranglers on those dates.

Please let me know as soon as possible if you are willing to show your arts.

I can be reached by email at shissyfit@misapprehension.net, or by photocopy at S & H Greenstamps.

Thatch so much—

Shari Hissyfit

For the Community Life Committee

What I’m Reading:

“The right of creation is the right to mention what does exist … I reserve the right to create in any manner that reality or humor or even—whim—dictates.”

— Charles Bukowski / On Writing

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on his eyes

Phosphene Dream (redux)

He produced phosphenes that smelled of mandarin oranges — a strange synesthetic effect that followed the orange-rimmed yellow spots that exploded in his closed-eye vision.

He thought this was an improvement on the phosphenes of his youth that smelt of rotting meats and animal carcasses, and filled his nights with monstrous nightmares.

He finally felt like an adult. He thought he’d arrived at the happiest point of his life, but he felt his brand was in peril. Only the whip smartest YouTubers and TikTok’ers could make the scene, and his phosphenes were falling behind.

So he really pressed down hard on his eyes this time and they fell into the center of his head, down his sinuses, and mysteriously into his esophagus, and through his digestive tract.

His vision was something spectacular now — 12K Supreme! It was like a Haight Ashbury psychedelic oil light show at a Grateful Dead concert, c. 1966 — every time another enzyme, bile, or gastric acid washed over his eyes making their way through this world of gastrointestinal wonder — phosphenes like he’d never seen before exploded through his eyeless head — sending bright yellow sparks out of his vacant eyeholes.

Hey, it blew him away.

And when the peristalsis finally evacuated his eyes into the depths of his own rectum— the time was now! Now he knew he’d be the supreme influencer to all mankind.

He tapped out a telegraph to his mother: “Success, Mother! I’m finally in my own rectum and about to be born again!”

What I’m Reading:

“There was a saint once, tenth
century, who suggested
we do nothing but look into our own hearts and say what we see there. I see
fear, hope, despair, and need.”

— Jim Moore / “Admit It”

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one day onto

I Am Writing This

I am writing this because it is what I do. I write this. Often, when I’m not writing this I think about writing this. Often, I start thinking about writing this before I have finished writing that other thing. I usually think about writing this when I finish writing the other thing. I know this will happen daily—the thinking about writing this. Even when I’m not thinking about writing this—or actually writing this (as I’m doing now)—I know, eventually, I will think about writing this, and that I’ll eventually get around to writing this. Later, after writing that other thing—sometimes, that afternoon or evening after writing that thing—it often occurs that I’ll write this the next morning, sometimes the next afternoon, and rarely the next evening—but I almost always get around to writing this the next day. In this way my life of writing this proceeds—one day onto the next. Always aware that I’ll be writing this. As I am writing this now—for you to read this thing I have written at this exact moment.

What I’m Reading:

“It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run.”

— Margaret Atwood / “February”

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see what grows

The Best Stuff I Read This Week

“So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.”

— Audre Lorde / “A Litany for Survival”


“Poets don’t make money. If you’re not looking for, ‘Oh, I want to write a book, and there’ll be a movie, and I’ll become rich and famous,’ you’ll be happy. There can be a kind of freedom, when the reward is itself the work.”

— Nikki Giovanni / The Creative Independent interview


“But if you can connect the issues and show how climate action can create better jobs and redress gaping inequalities, and lower stress levels, then you start getting people’s attention and you build a broader constituency that is invested in getting climate policies passed.”

— Naomi Klein / “‘It’s inequality that kills’: Naomi Klein on the future of climate justice” / The Guardian


“… Because this disaster is our home. I was born here.”

— Colson Whitehead / Zone One


“My little boat,
Take care.

There is no
Land in sight.”

— Charles Simic / “The Wind Has Died”


“Magic relies on what a viewer is willing to see, and what a viewer is willing to see relies on what the world has afforded them to be witness to.”

— Hanif Abdurraqib / Little Devil in America


“Forgive yourself, then see what grows”

— Sarah Shay Mirk / “You Are Forgiven”

What I’m Listening To:

“Nuclear war (Yeah)
If they push that button (If they push that button)
Your ass gotta go (Your ass gotta go)”

— Sun Ra and His Arkestra / “Nuclear War”

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a little troubling

and she said…troubling

…but when you read the book as an adult,
all these years passed,
it is a little troubling about the oompa loompas…

What I’m Reading:

“Sunny day shadowed
By dark thoughts,
And come evening,
A sky full of clouds
In their tragic robes.”

— Charles Simic / “Weather Forecast”

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has no goad

She Dollops the Not-Knows (redux)

Her bedfellow has no gnu,
She thinks her brown bomb
Has no goad.

If she could dartboard
Naked,
Under panegyric triangles
And see her impersonators roasting in the sun
She would know.

But there are no panegyric triangles
On the string,
And dispensary waves call no backwater impersonators.

What I’m Reading:

“We’ve screwed things up badly enough that even if we do everything right from here on out, we’re still looking at a future of staccato climate disasters.”

— Naomi Klein / “‘It’s inequality that kills’: Naomi Klein on the future of climate justice” / The Guardian

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