Tuesday, June 22, 2021

2021 June 22 Waterloo

 I am in Michigan


That's Grass Lake two night's ago in the town of Grass Lake, the person I'm visiting in Michigan lives in Grass Lake. I'm typing this Tuesday morning from an old one room school house refurbished as a house in the middle of the Waterloo Recreation Area near Jackson that we are renting


That's Earthgirl yesterday walking the land we bought near Dexter Michigan so we can be near the person who lives in Grass Lake

From the front porch of the house we are renting last evening


Not tending my grids, not by design - I did not set as goal not filling the grids (which would guarantee I would, though this sentence jinxes, which direction I'll find out) - I have seen gridworthy, my usual lopsided ratio of three shits to one kiss, there will be more, always

Here is the house we are renting from the meadow backyard at 9:00pm last evening, doesn't get total dark, the second day of summer, until 10:30


The wifi is slow and the water pressure low but the kitchen is wonderful, the front porch large, the bed firm, and Michigan, our neighbors fly their Trump flags defiantly, the state leaves car-struck animals to rot over multiple seasons in the middle and sides of deteriorating and unmaintained roads, but the birds, the meadows, the skies, all day, not just sunsets, but especially sunsets, last night with moonrise

Saturday, June 19, 2021

With a Heart That Rejects Its Reasons in Favor of Keeping What It Wants

Earthgirl and Planet and me drive to Michigan tomorrow, will be wonderful once there
I hate this drive more than I hate the drive to Maine but less than any drive on 95 south of the Potomac
House to New Stanton exit of Pennsylvania Turnpike pretty
New Stanton to Ohio then the Ohio Turnpike to Toledo then 23 to 96 near Ann Arbor b.o.r.i.n.g.a.s.f.u.c.k.
The house we are renting less than x miles from the compound of the x who tried to x the x of x
Happy Birthday, SeatSix
We will see the land we bought and regret doing so once reminded having am orgt ages ucksr ancid, hopefully the real estate agent will meet uss owelo ookath eprop erplots
I will misswho's rallying& others rallying too



I have tablet and two pens inked if intenet fails, if it doesn't I won't use pens inks or tablet the fuck is wrong with me
How to end up serving the Right
Grievance Conservatives are here to stay
Everyone serves their own prepackaged programing
but more by the prepackaged program they're fed
packaged to make the programmed think they're not programmed
Observing lucratively paid whisperers change teams (depending which whisperer whispers former whisperer hasn't changed, it's *you* who've changed) in free agency is fascinating
Capitalism"For years, banks and ultra-elites (bankrolled by years of money-printing, corporate socialism, and bailouts) have been using their wealth to take control of the world and rent it back to us."
Over/under of BLCKDGRD posts from Michigan 2.5 (I'm told the wifi may be sketchy and I'm not driving to Jackson to eat in a mask-free Panera for the wifi)
Maine rules apply in Michigan and I will be joined by Planet!
Of course trees talk to each other
My friend Alexa Sasha_veeee AlarumWrote this
I am lobbying to visit the Cranbrook Art Museum next week while in Michigan!
Fresh hellCheever and meTwenty propaganda horrors
I'm taking to Michigan a Dart a Roc a Leopard and a Beast and will throw them at metal baskets while Earthgirl paints whatever she wants to paint
NEW MURNAME ESSAY
I'm reading Debt in X, time to remember so I can make a lame self-absolving effort to fret less over things I can't alter but more importantly things my complicity won't, with my approval, change
Reading the new Murname essay (about his novel Inland, my favorite) I thought about rereading Murname in Michigan but I am still honoring my rule I cannot reread any novel until I read two novels I haven't read and I haven't read the second unread novel yet (and have NO novel in progress at this moment and zero interest in reading a novel, the fuck?
How equality slipped away
Missing low is lame, today's finest metaphor
Bloomsday SlavesEnds, beginnings
Everything is property and property is everything
Dynamic positioningTransitory, momentary
Like most mornings, I woke up w Swans in my head
Throw the fucking Roc, dumbfuck

 

 

CONFESSION OF A BIRD WATCHER

Chard Deniord

The windows are dressed in feathers where the birds have flown against
     them,
then fallen below into the flowers where their bodies lie grounded, still,
slowly disappearing each day until all that is left are their narrow,
     prehensile bones.
I have sat at my window now for years and watched a hundred birds
mistake the glass for air and break their necks, wondering what to do,
how else to live among them and keep my view.
Not to mention the sight of them at the feeder in the morning,
especially the cardinal in snow.
What sign to post on the sill that says, "Warning, large glass window.
Fatal if struck. Fly around or above but not away.
There are seeds in the feeder and water in the bath.
I need you, which is to say, I'm sorry for my genius as the creature inside
who attracts you with seeds and watches you die against the window
I've built with the knowledge of its danger to you. 
With a heart that rejects its reasons in favor of keeping what it wants:
the sight of you, the sight of you."

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

A Uniformity of Occupations Breeds Cravings for Sensation

"The only face more suitable for the US empire than a sociopathic billionaire is a decrepit warmongering corporate whore with dementia."
Shitlords and their slaves
Disaster capitalism
"No, the Democrats who govern Virginia will not repeal the state’s anti-union right-to-work law, but yes, by all means, they will make Juneteenth an official holiday."
Shitlord crime versus peasant crime
Avalanche of Numbers
Upriver
That's as big a font size my freeself incriminating spreadsheet platform can do, you digital roach motel logging my keystokes fuck youvery mu ch there, tell your engineers I want more if they wantme to selfin criminate more
Weed capitalism!
I will be in Michigan where weed is legal with stores I could pick my flavor this Saturday to next Saturday, I don't think Maine rules apply there, Maine's a month away, let me live so long, we can't wait
The never-ending war on whistle-blowers
I hugged my daughter for the first time in fifteen months, I get another week with her next week
Avedon Carol's occasional links
Can you rename the Washington Helmetball Team? (I vote DCFC)
Not official, the above, but an article about what the process the WHT currently endeavoring. DCFC the least likely of the six they came up with, Red Hogs almost certainly the most, and by design, and not wrong
Wh wrdprss nt vbl ptn
Thestudyofbrandingthestudyofpower
Airborne Event my favorite radio show ever, Dan and I share genes, enopening and necksbed, first show in almost six years
I will be writing in Michigan but not from the breakfast lounge of the Chelsea Comfort Inn, which I will miss




TERMINATOR TOO

Tom Clark

Poetry, Wordsworth
wrote, will have no
easy time of it when
the discriminating

powers of the mind
are so blunted that
all voluntary
exertion dies, and

the general
public is reduced
to a state of near
savage torpor, morose,

stuporous, with
no attention span
whatsoever; nor will
the tranquil rustling

of the lyric, drowned out
by the heavy, dull
coagulation
of persons in cities,

where a uniformity
of occupations breeds
cravings for sensation
which hourly visual

communication of
instant intelligence
gratifies like crazy,
likely survive this age.

Monday, June 14, 2021

What Am I Doing Inside This Old Man's Body

New Lambchop, better than OK, old, not love, fuck me, fifth time worked, it's love, I correct my final judgement ass mid-sentence, fuck me


 

New Lindsey Buckingham, OK I guess, old, not love

 



This was a new trend since before the plague, picked up momentum since then. I wrote this on June 14th of last year:

Today may or not be David Thomas' birthday and he may or not be 67 today (68th this year), but June 14th I saw somewhere once is his birthday so here, BLCKDGRD Theme Song Two, and if I like the current iteration of Pere Ubu less than previous iterations and listen to previous iterations less than I once did Pere Ubu/Thomas projects still one of two permanent members of My Sillyass Deserted Island Five Game


Not just music (the new Six Organs of Admittance, the new album, meh): poetry, novels - the new Ishiguro, meh plus, he new Krasznahorkei, meh, everything, everywhere

 


Whatpercentageof myrewiringlasttwoyears
reallifeversusmy lifeasagency-lesspawn?
Who is afraid of the forest and why?
How America destroyed the Middle East
Canada sucks tooDemon wants to be your friend
Reminder: motherfucking Democrats
An eye for an IChecking your privilege
Maggie's weekly linksTyranny of time
Pro formaTruth, reading, decadence
{ feuilleton }'s weekly linksDavid Ferry
Newly discovered early Ashbery prose poems





SOUL

David Ferry

What am I doing inside this old man’s body?
I feel like I’m the insides of a lobster,
All thought, and all digestion, and pornographic
Inquiry, and getting about, and bewilderment,
And fear, avoidance of trouble, belief in what,
God knows, vague memories of friends, and what
They said last night, and seeing, outside of myself,
From here inside myself, my waving claws
Inconsequential, wavering, and my feelers
Preternatural, trembling, with their amazing
Troubling sensitivity to threat;
And I’m aware of and embarrassed by my ways
Of getting around, and my protective shell.
Where is it that she I loved has gone to, as
This cold sea water’s washing over my back?

Friday, June 11, 2021

Determining the Candor That Cavity Is Good For


Wowee, listen to that version. Me & George, people can vouch. Above released yesterday ahead of a 50th Anniversary Box Set of *All Things Must Pass,* the second most listened to album of my life. Guess who's buying, whenever and wherever I can, the box set

Funny, on heels of Dara Anti-Kaboom as event and me and event-scavenging, I searched to type in a credit card number but no field yet exists in honeytrap. I don't think they'll run out

The new Dara, don't read that, read this



Warning: you don't want *me* to start snorting the haiku of short stories
Way past time to leave America
Grievance christers are here to stay
The last post's Thursday Night Pint voice, I've been reading not only C's short stories but Lydia Davis' and short short stories give me ideas
Today in self-surveillancePoverty is a shitlord weapon of choice
Good news: no interest in writing short stories as in disclaimer any simularities unintentional in my poems, easy epiphanies there OK
ACABACABACABACAB
Bad news: dialogue in haiku it will have to be before abandoned
ShitlordiaCrackers are weirdYes
Don't worry, I'll not short story at youDialogue haiku
Children of the homunculusSome thoughts on the common toadHow I lost control of my own face
I twitter came with news of the new George release thinking kaboom you too
Philosophy is bullshitWar PornIHMDNine rules for the woke birdwatcher
A few but no, fine metaphors abound but at least they're my fine metaphors abounding, refreshed, reset, fuck it restored
Con's final stageName the solutionBrief history of the Devil
I tried *Forgotten Work* but I wasn't reading well at time, am taking it to Michigan week after next, will try again
Colin Newman on Rundgren's Wizard/True Star



TO TELL OF BODIES CHANGED

Jana Prikryl

Having desired little
more than the

arrival of the little more
that arrives,

outside our window a cypress
of model proportions.
Its patience seems to widen
the nights we sleep in Rome.

Warm flags draw a tortoise,
it scrapes too near.
Our friends hurry over when they hear,
exclaiming over its mute
resolute
distinctness and helpless slow efforts to flee.

Density pours into swallows and shadows:
spilled with abandon each morning,
begins then the slow work
of receding.

The joints announce their new allegiances.
Metaphors swarm the surfaces of things.

Night broken into, it's the sub rosa
singling out
I ought to have expected
from Fra Angelico's small panel
among others,
the souped-up full-spectrum wings
combined with a mood of reverent submission
in both figures
warning of experience
yet to come.

Starting now she'll reason with herself
deliberately
(imagine bulbs expecting stars
for effort!), aware of being always overheard,
subject to unprecedented measures
of integrity, like an author.

While a substance of landscape, mineral,
leaches into blood vessels
quietly steadily, meaning in this case
nothing is damaged;
extravagance of umbrella pines
propping their fingers under the bonus horizons
of the hills, redundancies
boosting the city's resemblance to itself.

A painter once squared himself against a difficult question
and said no one could just create
a landscape,
but isn't it true
that expectation builds a neighborhood
and there is nowhere else that you can live.

It was possession, turns out, by a force whose intention
touched the first body alone, a body changed
again precisely to its own form,
a very special intention.
 
Alloyed
discretion, the grit of a damp trowel
explores my mouth, at leisure
determining
the candor that cavity
is good for.