Thursday, January 27, 2022

prey we wither 
in the gridlock of our power

Robert Reich says Biden should nominate Obama to replace Breyer
but Villager consensus settled in ten minutes on Kamala Harris
both deliver on a Biden campaign promise to name a liberal
woman of color and allows Biden/Democrats to dump the anchor
Harris as vpotus is and reboot Biden's 2022 midterm energy
Robert Reich the larpiest professional Democrat playing
progressive of the professional Democrats my friends tweet
derisively for unsatisfying laughs from fellow apostates. L tells me
Breyer's ice cream crap now, not the Breyer's of her youth (I don't
like ice cream, I'm told it's very good, try the jamocha shakes) I have
not yet seen anyone nominate Hillary to replace Harris though I did
see someone retweet a person nominating Hillary to scotus to piss
off crackers, you know who Fox's target audience is when New
Gingrich says on Tucker that Republicans will take every single
congressperson on the January 6 commission and roast them to
death one at a time on national TV in a copper donkey with open
mouth out of which scream unanswered pleas for mercy before
anguished death brays, yes?



If true it would re
present a fun
damental shift of pow
er in the quad
rents' mime's incen
diary novel of my apo
stasy of meek out
rage at best pract
ices, never borrowed nev
er overdue Tab
lets ink watercol
or ruler now tree
knots abandoned






How Virginia Woolf kept her brother alive in letters
The extinction of experience and empathy
Truth is stranger than fiction
Not saying every post hence will have a Fleabus photo but if I have a fresh Fleabus photo I like post just might
The old man stays behind
Another civilizing intervention
Another day in mfing prodemistan
Talk of civil war is propaganda
Stoicism is shitlord propaganda
Puts drops in eyes, remembers: I asked my eyedoc at the follow up to the laser surgery (all's good) about weed and glaucoma, is it true weed helps, I asked, Yes, he said, I'm not asking for a medical card, I said, I can walk to three weed stores within fifteen minutes of work, I'm curious you say yes but never offered it as a medical alternative, it would help, he said, in combination with your eyedrops but would turn you into a hollow shell of yourself. Oops, I didn't say
The cruelty of economic sanctions
Saying the quiet part out loud
After the last bulletins






d e l e t e, part 12

Richard O. Moore

Welcome to your day of sanity! Come in and close the door it will likely lock behind you and you will be home alone waste disposal will take care of your needs : at long last undisturbed phenomena without the heavy metal background of the street will be yours for observation and response : do you have visions? do you think? Your mouth do you open it for more than medication? I should know I know that I should know : we’ve watched centuries erode the fortress drain the moat the poet’s clumsy beast has reached its home and prey we wither 
in the gridlock of our power only the guns remain and are in use pure accident is beauty to be glimpsed your trembling only further clouds your sight I in my home you in your other place harmonize 
the fading anthem of an age the cracked bell of our liberty keeps time a penny for the corpse you left behind keep on recycling all that you have heard before call it a double bind much like the dead bolt that locked the door that keeps you safe and sane : ho — hum — harry who? oh that’s just a phrase found in a time capsule capped and sealed and shot up in the air : no I cannot tell you where it fell to earth that page was torn out years ago it’s chance that we have a fragment of that language left : do your archaeology before a mirror the canyons and the barren plains are clear but where to dig for a ruined golden age a fiction we were served with breakfast flakes say have you forgot this day of sanity? No problem the heavy key was thrown away as soon as the door was closed and locked you’re safe : some day the asylum may be torn down to make way for a palace of the mad it does not follow that anything will change : choose your executioner by lot almost 
everyone is trained and competent there are different schools of course check out degrees fees can become an issue of your choice and some may be in service or abroad as usual nothing’s simple it’s all a part of the grand unraveling that must take place before the new line can be introduced : prepare now don’t be shocked when the music starts the year’s fashions may feature pins and nails.

Monday, January 24, 2022

Gold Bell in a Coffin in Case I Wake Up

Fleabus Saturday night wondering what Momcat doing in the house, once upon a time every post on this shitty blog had a Fleabus photo



Here's Stanley wondering the same thing




Saturday we tried Pax River State Park, such as it is, public land used primarily by hunters, half a dozen deer carcasses in the trailhead parking lot on Brown Church Road north of 80 on 27, hunters dress the deer on site, leave what they don't harvest for the winged corpse-eaters. The trail down to the Patuxent completely iced for bob-sledding, obstacled with fallen trees, I took 27 to 108 to 650 (past Griffith Road) to Howard Chapel Road right to Sundown (you better take care) right to Zion left to Rachel Carson Conservancy and one of our favorite hikes




Hiked Little Bennett yesterday, icy, should have thought of sticks, Little Bennett has more of my installations than all other Moco hikes combined (it has many different hikes, we rotate them a lot). Most are destroyed by wind and rain or squirrels or chipmunks and interior tree rot which contract I signed upon installation, I often find the plastic animals in the leaves and new mulch beneath the trees, but a few I build for more permanence, see the superglue print on the stone, all four feet were superglued to the stone, there was a friend's bulldog altared there by request, a chipmunk didn't do this, fine metaphors abound that I need to work past




Dreams and kindness are all we have
Total awareness of nothing
Look don't lookHope optimism
The history of anti-vaxxers
The shitlord side-hustle neoliberalism created
The year of magical thinking
FRESH HELLMaggie's weekly links
Everyone's a criticSteven Heighton?
A poem by Weldon KeesANOTHER
The long difficult history of literary maps
{ feuilleton }'s weekend links





THE ARISTOCRACY

Sandra Simonds

I like when the form is kind of stuck-up
   even though I’ve got a Southern accent and my place
looks like a graduate student’s. 1. I enjoy
   high art but realism swamps me.
            2. The material world swamps me.
                              3. I came to understand
                                                the forms of realism,
                                                             the aesthetic phenomenon.
                                                                      4. You take a random person
                                                                                                from daily life.
                                                                   5. You take their dependence
                                                         on their historical circumstances.
                                                                   6. You make them
                                                         the subject.
                                      7. You see, they operate
                                      the modern.
      Things happen ... minutes, hours, days.
       The order of life
          coming from life itself.
                                     Back to life /
                                     Back to reality (like Soul II Soul).
                                                       It is sublime
                                                   and grotesque.
                                                                8. They make rich forms.
   Something steady.
   Less manic.
         Something real
                                                like a bell
                                                  inside the Golden Seahorse Gift Shop.

                                                                Don’t take me
                                                                            on that ride.
                                                            I don’t want
                                                         to go down.

                                         9. To what degree
                                  are the subjects
         taken seriously?
   They naturally swim
                            beneath the icy sheets
                                               and find breathing holes.
                                         They may remember
                                                         their arctic homes.
                                                                            They are one of the park’s
                                                          most sociable creatures. I said
                                          enter the water with them.
                               Graceful imitation of strange
   palms and seaflowers. A seaflower
     of a thousand colors, aquarium
              pigmented. It is my violent
  passion for seaflowers, Molly.
I want the entire
         underwater palace
          built of roaring seaflowers!
    Beluga! Beluga! Wither and mow.
         The child’s song.

  Emerald kayak
        and the femme fatale
                                 who sleeps in it, Victorian,
                                                          long, frothy hair
                                         and the death drive,
     flesh like the statement, “I lost a friend
          in the sea garden.”
                          The notes, staccato, vortex,
                                           paradisiacal, gold bell in a coffin
     just in case I wake up. And the way
                                                 darkness tunnels
       inside a car on its way
                        to its pinpoint destination.
No one tells you
                    the moon’s going
                                             to end up like this.
                                         No one. So you just move towards it.
    That’s all the moon
                               ever was. Ding. Ding.

Friday, January 21, 2022

You Are Made of What Drugs Are Made Of


Once upon a time every post had a Fleabus photo
Bumping this over there again
Putting a chrome sheet into wordpress is roulette though the more I monkey with the format on sheets the chances I get lucky in wordpress, one of the daft reasons I still pay for a wordpress account nobody reads
The system that drives our world
The alibababot in Frankfurt has apprised my potential worth and/or my potential danger and has deemed me not worth monitoring, I am simultaneously relieved and insulted
The pandemic and our broken social contract
by shitlord desire and design
I did use L instead of Earthgirl in the last post and I may use C instead of Planet going forward (working on a poem about why (and related shit)) but I can't use I for my son-in-law
I can hardly I him I I should have said
Mass formation deflation
Five new additions to the blegroll, check them out
I vouch for six of ten of these albums
I mean, it even *looks* like wordle
Reading anxiety, everybody's got it
Callahan and Oldham interview on their wonderful new album
One exhibition in a side-room of the Grand Museum
Been overdosing on Akron/Family, how the ruck had I never posted one of their songs before?



HOW TO WRITE

Anne Waldman

Perhaps I’m kidding myself about
the life I lead

Sometimes I feel I’m dying
like a lot of things I see around me

Then I turn on the TV and understand
that everything must still be moving

Music, for example, and I rush outside
around the corner to a concert

It’s so easy

Everything accessible from where I
happen to live at the moment

Things like rock concerts not too many trees on 2nd Avenue

Once, on the Sixth Avenue bus
I got a sudden sensation
I had been alive before

That I was a man at some other time
Traveling

You would think this strange if you were a woman

If I were a man right now I’d be getting out of the draft
but I think I’d want to be a poet too

Which simply means alive, awake and digging everything

Even that which makes me sick and want to die

I don’t really, you know

I just don’t want to be conscious sometimes
because when you’re conscious in the ordinary way
you have to think about yourself a lot

Dull thoughts like what am I doing?

Uptown in a large crowd I want to sit down and cry
because everything is simple and complicated
all at once

Everyone has this feeling

Even people downtown

It is very basic to the way we are
which is why I can say “we”

A lot of drugs can change you if you want
because you too are made of what drugs are made of

In fact you are just a bundle of drugs
when you come right down to it

I don’t want to go into it
but you’ll see what I mean when you catch on

That’s not meant to sound snotty
I’m open to whatever comes along

This is the feeling I get before I take a plane

Then everything’s the same afterward anyway

All into one space and here I am again
alive still, same worries on my mind

The thing is don’t worry!
You are doing what you have to what you can

You hear from your friends
They let you know what’s happening in California, Iowa
Vermont and other places about the globe

They take you out of your little room
just like the newspapers or the news
or the man you live with

and put you in a much larger room
one in which you are in constant motion around the clock