Friday, March 2, 2018

A Continual Division of Halves

  • Innermost circle of rotation MSADI5G.
  • DC United's season starts tomorrow. Remember when? Here are the probable starters: GK David Ousted; Ds Nick DeLeon, Steve Birnbaum, Frederic Brillant, Oniel Fisher; MFs Junior Moreno, Paul Arriola, Ulises Segura, Zoltan Stieber, Yamil Asad; F Darren Mattocks. I've heard of one of them.
  • UPDATE! Fuck MLS, fuck United.
  • Poetry and the Experience of Contact.
  • >> Deleted bleggalgaze <<
  • Poets' strike.
  • New Yo La Tengo! (and old Yo La Tengo below the poem).
  • Innermost circle of rotation MSADI5G.


Robin Blaser

there are shining masters
when I tell you what they
look like    some of it is
nearly false   their blue hair
but they are not ourselves   they
are equivalents   of action    they
compose forms,    which we hear
sound within a context
as if that action we are
images of    used us
the body becomes an instrument
sometimes the harp pierces the body
and a man only hangs on the strings
I hear the airborne-fire, the dead rebels’
second speech, which follows their live words,
and the rice, and the motorcycles
but public life has fallen asleep
like a secret name    the wrong-reader
will say he has pity for others
where the thought is born in hatred
of pity, which is only feeling    the action
we are only images of    hates pity
and its reduction of horror to sentiment
wordlessness   no thing is so simply
personal    I put my hand out to catch
beauty in the act of    I know no beauty
which is not permanent    not invoked
in splendour     the words are meaningless
until they emerge in the action     they are
images of
I was once a youth,   and I was
a maiden,     a bush, a bird, a fish
with scales that gleam in the ocean
they come from the dark    under
many names    the blue    wind
they are not ourselves,    not even
the moon drawn down     into our
breasts    that we may strike others
with eros                                      the
body gleamed so                           wind
master                a bone, a ball, a top
an apple, a mirror, a skein of wool
wind   —   words      wind   —  hair    we
have dismembered the earth    and
are born lifeless on the moon     mouths
to the wind
unthought the many mountains, the many
cities,   the many houses
I was once    another man’s heart
an eagle, a wolf    cloud, smoke,
           psychron    (cold, refreshing
anapsychsai   (to be refreshed from evil
we have eaten ourselves   luxurious and
careless    I must bathe at the
gates of the city    I must tell you
they have been blue in the heart,
in the wind
                          I have opened my mouth
they have come from the black-fire
                                                   we have stiffened
the terror of earth,     as if terror were the only unearthly
thing in our hearts
                          we have given her rivers
of our own salt    earth then remains uncanny,
sublime    water is fear’s movement    grief cries
in the air like birds    fire is hidden in the imageless
            the blue hair    the face of gold    the clothes
like snow    the blood
                                       is light

enacts it
            Jack Clarke’s ‘we are under image’
rythmos    (form’s movement)   to walk into    ‘the
primordial always exists’    face to face    always outside
ourselves    the astonishment is
                                     that it is kosmos
playing out with one man   entheos
                                                 they are
the flowing boundary    taking birth    taking leave
at the point of the heart              a continual
division of halves


  1. Yamil scored ATL UTD's first ever MLS goal. It was a beauty. Great pace, good field vision, fine passer. Your boys (if you've reclaimed them) will like him. We got Barco, but we'll miss Yamil.

    1. Nah, I'm very happy not-Uniteding, for multiple reasons. I wish all my apostasies ended so satisfyingly complete. If U.S. Soccer Fed ever lost the playoffs and set up a relegation-tiered system for all pro-clubs I'd be curious to see if I'd have to fight off a damn, but since that'll never happen I'll never have the chance.

      Posted simply as reminder to self that once upon the first match of the season would have me buzzing....