- From 2012. Seemed easier than paraphrasing, plus I am no longer running the joint that housed these, plus the newest projects' washes are curing, plus blogwhoring a refresh so people who only read at work can see Earthgirl's painting of me approaching an upshot with a Roc in my hand. Do check out the links there.
- How to speak American.
- Hudson Trail Outfitters (once Hudson Bay Outfitters until sued by Home Box Office) closing. I remember shopping at one of two original locations at Diamond and Summit forty years ago.
- Krasznahorkai writing novel on Melville's life after Moby Dick!
- New Rocket from the Tombs on the way (w new song!)
- A guide to Xenakis!
- New WFMU Sept - June schedule out - very little change but there's one important change - Sophisticated Boom Boom moving to Friday afternoon just after Bryce, my two favorite shows now back-to-back starting next week!
- On accidental anonymity.
- A friend liked yesterday's Nick Laird poem, so have another.
- I made it halfway through Ben Lerner's novel 10:04. It's about a character named Ben Lerner writing a novel about a character named Ben Lerner writing a novel about a character named Ben Lerner. Fuck that. Also too, here is the trajectory of me and any novel I read these days: curiosity > interest > infatuation > submission > uh-oh > is it me? > yes, but it's the book too > apostasy > hate > fuck that.
- Unlike Our Love Will Save the World, my new love, I can play my other new love, Koen Holtkamp, when Earthgirl is in the car. Do check out the links there.
GLITCH
Nick Laird
More than ample a deadfall of one meter eighty to split
my temple apart on the herringbone parquet and crash
the operating system, tripping an automated shutdown
in the casing and halting all external workings of the moist
robot I inhabit at the moment: I am out cold and when
my eyes roll in again I sit on the edge of the bed and tell
you just how taken I am with the place I’d been, had been
compelled to leave, airlifted mid-gesture, mid-sentence, risen
of a sudden like a bubble or its glisten or a victim snatched
and bundled out, helplessly, from sunlight, the usual day,
and all particulars of life there fled except the sense that stays
with me for hours and hours that I was valuable and needed there.
