OUR TWO HEADS IN A VACCUUM Now that you have come over the hills, or at least through the sump, holding light somewhat askew for the world to pick its work from – who really cares that the limits are only invoked by mercy or the status of stars, birds, certain trees, and these four blades of grass that continue to interrupt You wander around the city all day and imagine the faces of strangers engulfing your genitals, such wide faces they have, it is only mildly satisfying. The sun looks on – “Hello!” it says, imagining your face is a kind of crevasse deep enough to conjure a population “Hello! Look at me and marvel at the situation – In this, the most ideal of all possible worlds, young girls can grow up to be pornstars, and young boys can grow up to possess the cocks that go in and out of them, and shower them with meaning – the buildings can keep on growing around them and the clouds who maintain the balance between concrete and the atmosphere will be braced for another round of flowering amongst the nation’s questionable identity. “Thanks Sun!” you say. “I hope that you go down on me every day!” And looking up you feel the global positioning work upon you in mysterious but necessarily stunning ways and understand your place more satisfyingly.
YOUR TWO BLUE EYES For years he considers the arrival of crows Now the lake seems omnidistant All elegies go unseen along a line that stands for trees It’s a far cry for elegance to hold so many fish At least that’s how the surface of the water seems today Shuffling a reflection of the sky he wants to say is oceanic And the clouds he wants to say are ships sailing by But the cliché police have caught up with him Even this far north So his son appears and quotes Blake: Dad – my line’s snagged. On a rock!
PERFECT REPLICATIONS OF JAPANESE GARDENS How fascinating could it be that a google search will reveal more images of people other than that of poor Pat Tinmuth, brutally murdered in 1975 by ___ Lowther – leaving signed copies of her work scarce? have you ever looked at your face in a mirror under fluorescent lights – like, really looked? You look ridiculous, but at the same time, surely you’re alive, having won something for your efforts, a pinup of the latest foiled hero doll, a variety of energy you are free to touch, drain, use up – tapped to a reluctant essence as of snow, or time, as it falls and makes you so tired assistance blossoms fail to bloom hovering on their delicate references half-heartedly so what am I to do when my mother tells me she wishes to be remembered by nobody? No one is that forgettable, and I refuse to be guilty of remembering her against her wishes, or to die first. But it makes me wonder why it is we are given so little control over our endings and the things we can control seem so useless in the face of that.
SYSTEMS I INVENT TO HOLD The faces of the young are so beautiful – they are everywhere & go well together & compliment all other faces so well I twist into another forlorn – I say it’s fine it’s fine I say, fine – you’ll get here too some day but I’ll be gone by then, or somewhere else, & the variations will outlive us all. Oh brother, there’s that essence again, the floats & the quietude, kids screaming among the traffic: Do you have God of War? Do you have a Wii? A Playstation? Xbox rules: You should see me blow that dude out of the water.
Sick! It’s on the You Tube. Some where. I saw it four times, and then they took it down. But you can find it on MSN. What I really want to know is how do they spell ridiculous? DS? PSP? No, way!
RESPONSIBILITIES ARE WORN part one: in the middle of this dead field – it’s a dead field part two: a dead dead field dead, a dead field part three: dead dead field dead, it’s dead – part four: there’s nothing here, a dead field, empty and dead part five: dead and empty
anything is nothing – there’s nothing here – it’s dead, a dead and empty field, part six: a dead field where nothing lives, dead part seven: a dead field dead in the middle of a dead field there is a snake part eight: this is a snake isn’t it? part nine: you are a snake aren’t you part ten: I field
NOTHING ON MY BIRTHDAY or, we could dismiss all things this pen for instance, these keys my brain is mush mush mush o happy happy feet! – once we were transferred to a bus with a sober driver, things came to life – we drove silently through street after street – the movement of plants’ revolving nutation pulsates through the light domination windows cramped slightly and with a modicum of silent rooms and fluorescent lightning. The animals we love have suddenly evolved! O to develop theories of other planets that don’t require photography shot through space and how to live in them despite the high winds and the endless sea of faces waiting not in rain but as a form of weather tracked for years it is seemingly diabolical, yet sweet. these forms admit cats are translucent, as they meander through space, the space we inhabit in our attempt to live, they pass through as most things do, a vocabulary at least as valuable as evolution and just as you thought: 1 circumnutation