Tag Archives: Cut-Up Writing

death at 5:26

Hellish (redux) I forget what the final word is. Time fog is hellish. What more do you require on the day of your death at 5:26 am? What I’m Reading: “There were moments of beauty here and thereEverything ends, and … Continue reading

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away the nightmare

What I’m Reading: “God is not dead. God has forgotten. God has dementia.” — Georgi Gospodinov / Time Shelter

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the exorcism matinée

Tied Up Wrong A bluebell crack. The storybook matador lost in last week’s storm. Like a drone cyclone of hothouse hornets, come inklings of nuclear enrichment here and there—not good places, but nowhere is good for instant vaporization. I’m in … Continue reading

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shaman life hacks

Détentes (redux) There’s a tool they use to set things right. But it won’t protect them from the bitter cold of a nighttime swim through the shark infested straits. A tool of last resort — shaman life hacks! Tabernacle huckster butters! And us! We. … Continue reading

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sound of going

Go Some off-brand thing was birthedOn an off-yearThe offal smell was awfulExtravagant—too many notesOf putrefactionLike so many cast-off organsOf admission, submission & perceptionGoGo on and sing in your off-key mannerIn your off-kilter empty halterYour bodice sleeveless & headlessIn an off-putting … Continue reading

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feel anything human

The Best Stuff I Read This Week “You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves.” — George Orwell / 1984 “I think I can see why we humans rarely deal with … Continue reading

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meringue laden queefs

Riot in the Planetarium I overhear them talking of justification served brusquely — of the red, white and bluebell slash of false prophets. I overhear them considering who to bring justification to next: the slogans of smarmy approbation, the soft-pedal … Continue reading

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distortion and static

Stained I know of no one who considers themself a veteran. A Venetian, maybe. A Venusian, most definitely. A Velvet Undeground-ian … well, that’s me. I play “Sister Ray” everyday. I start each day with 17+ minutes of “a good … Continue reading

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flash at night

first night of winter (ukiah) darkness in the afterworldmuzzles flash at nightblack forest pierced by fireflies What I’m Reading: “Cold, moist, young phlegmy winter now doth lie In swaddling clouts, like new-born infancy;” — Anne Breadstreet / “Winter”

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last 14 moonlights

Jiggle This is what I see as I screech this joyride. I take a photo because I prefer Icelandic volcanic fissures to insurrectionist former presidents or storm water floods. I’ve copy and pasted manifold eons there and here to improve … Continue reading

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