Friday, December 21, 2018

Give Me a Minute, Maggot-Swarming Preview of the Future

  • I confess I do not know the rosters of the current Syrian civil war squads, 
  • who's on whose team (though all teams hate the Kurds), etc, 
  • I have no plans to do research.
  • I've all faith anyone who's anyone is a sociopath.
  • I don't know the boardgame ramifications of a complete withdrawal of US military in Syria 
  • on the ground, in the boardrooms; I do know Trump's motives certainly foul (consider
  • tonight's, Thursday December 20, 2018 19:53 EST's, palace
  • coup powwows, how ARE we gonna get this pantloadian
  • pussy out, major Poobahs must be game-
  • planning), but withdrawing US troops from war-
  • zones Imperial I've advocated since I discovered advocacy, I
  • bet you a pint, I said to a Hillaryite Colleague, nothing
  • rallies motherfucking Democrats more than rightflanking Republicans
  • kill-wise, Democrats (w Poobah approval'll)
  • seize this as their Trump kill-shot.





  • This Winter gonna suck, ruin two good pair of boots suck,
  • and where I live had no Spring or Fall or much of Summer in 2018.
  • Today is Zappa's birthday. I am not Zappadani - I don't mind when he's on, I don't put him on (except on his birthday (and then for selfish bleggalgazing reasons)) - but once upon in many stringtowns across Blegsylvania - and maybe still somewhere - today is Zappadan.
  • I have no plans to do research.
  • Two Zappa tweets each with a Zappa song and acknowledgment of Zappadan ghost towns went unremarked last night about eight-thirty.
  • Below with Belew:










DEAD SEAGULL

Franz Wright

Seagull in the corn, postage stamp-size cornfield in the woods, in the middle of the state, and how you ever got here. Weather of heaven, July Massachusetts, the blue sky one endless goodbye. Give me a minute, maggot-swarming preview of the future, give me a moment. You can hone a blade, or dwell with a magnifying glass so long on a word that finally it darkens, is not, and fire in widening circles consumes the world. For a moment only, stay with me, mystery. Before you change completely into something other, slow cloud, entrance, spell, not yet remembered name, stay: tell me what you mean. A dead bird is not a dead bird I was once told by someone who knows.

1 comment:

  1. speaking of dead birds -

    a)i thought of coleridge's the rime of the ancient mariner, and discovered that martin gardner put out a book on the topic - annotated, with essays, comparison of first and later versions, etc - this book itself has a first and second edition, in the 1960s and the early 21st century, though i don't know if there are any important differences between them

    b)i am also reminded of the pterodactyl wing in the poem "lost river" - james tate's text and my attempted exegesis are in the comments at

    http://www.blckdgrd.com/2014/11/if-it-would-help-i-would-paint-my-house.htm

    -------------------------

    see also


    https://www.wired.com/story/embrace-fake-meat-future-benefits/

    https://teyit.org/en/the-video-shows-a-cat-seeing-his-late-owners-photo-on-the-phone/

    ReplyDelete