Wednesday, February 15, 2012

First, It's Just the Faces Disappearing

  • Blogsick and blogpissed. Fuck it. Not here, not elsewhere. 
  • Regardless, enjoy the new Tindersticks! Is excellent.
  • Totem and taboo.
  • I hope the Nobel committee strips Obama of his peace prize for his warmongering because I want to see what conservatives, who were furious Obama received it, do and say when Obama's punished for being as big a war-criminal as the conservatives want to be.
  • Chasing the bone off the porch.
  • Confederacy-light.
  • Of course the decline is real and self-inflicted.
  • I caught five minutes of the fuckwitted Tom Ashbrook interviewing Charles Murray and Joan Walsh last night, and if Ashbrook and Walsh are our designated Liberal intellectuals, sooooo fucked.



D.A. Powell

First, it's just the faces disappearing.
Because, deflected, as the faces long have been,
with their hunched trunks
and mercilessly twisted necks,
they can only be regarded from a ground's-eye view.

The bellwort tips its fallow head down
in the hot tomato field. The green snake rests
beneath the green leaves, and the air is toast.
Diesel tractors grind to the frontage and idle there,
their heads bowed, too, like giant wooden horses
meant to sack an unsuspecting city.
Down come the earthen walls.

My father used to pour libations onto the ground
from the gas pump's nozzle, and I'd swirl
its iridescence, respire it into my lung's core,
so woozy, so sick, and awed by the vapors.
Fire beguiled me, too. As did the concept of force.

Whole villages burned in a single spritz.
Even now the past gets altered. We forget
because our friends won't suffer that subject again.
Because the students tap their pens uncomfortably,
look around to see if anyone else is taken in.
That's when we figure it's best to make a joke.

I've wandered, now, from the corrugated sheds,
with people half in and half out of nuclear range.
My retention of the facts is not a silo.
Even if it were, some disrepair gets fallen into.
I like to think we dismantle thought
as much as tortuous thought dismantles us.

I have seen sharp men lose limbs. Women too.
A hand pulled off, conveyed into the hopper.
But these were country matters.
Like frilled silhouettes of flowering wild carrot,
white against the mackerel white sky,
the texture is imperishable, the details

so far off. These bodies: their contours
uncertain. Just a general cast to the light.


  1. Agreed, re: the undeserved Peace Prize.

    P.S. No sign of the cat.

  2. Muchas linkas, but sir, what is thy secret to gif-fing Blogger? I've zero clue.

  3. I use the img src="" (bracketed by < and > (blogger won't let me type it as it looks here in comments) command in html mode, pasting the image location between the "". Uploading with blooger image loader doesn't work at least half the time with gifs. Unless you were talking about my tortured rationale of when and when I can't use gifs, and fuck that, though I can say today I invoked the Tom Ashbrook Is a Fatuous and Fuckwitted Fuckstick Clause in posting the above gif.

  4. I can't stop staring at XYZ

    if you want to make your typing look like correct html, you can use these codes.


  5. Wow, you can wish that when Henry Kissinger still has his Nobel?

  6. I don't think the reaction to Kissinger being stripped of his would be as entertaining as the reaction to Obama being stripped of his (and my being entertained was the point I was making) - and it would be both entertaining, watching obamabots squeal in outrage, watching those who squealed in outrage when Obama won try to figure out what to do, it being revoked because Obama's a war-criminal neonon fuck just like they are, I mean, fuck Obama but hey, did you just insult me? - but sure, Nobel can revoke Kissinger's too.

  7. Speaking merely of the technical; I'd never attempt to understand another human's though processes as I can't understand mine, but thanks even though I expect to fuck it up. C'mon, someone create a gif with both Henry & Barack.

  8. I like the clay pig with chip, like the songs, like XYZ, but what's up?