Friday, September 17, 2021

Useless as a Barking Dog, the Meow of a Cat, Closing in on the Chapter, Vibrant Once. Threaded Now.




Go to Bandcamp and add this to your collection, one of my favorite albums of 2021, so good. For the fuck of it I did reset my dying laptop to confirm whether the issue was windows or the laptop, latest, shittiest version of windows loaded, the machine will still not clean shutdown or clean turn on and runs just as slow if not slower than when first palsied on my birthday in August. I have figured out that on a chromebook if the option available to run a program either on chrome as a webpage or on chrome as an app always choose the app. Yes, the Ashbery below is another excerpt from the new post-death collection of long unfinished poems. Today is the last day of my friend in the department, I have been writing about work more than once I would but for this, for the few of you reading this who know of what I speak, I simply say fuck every single person up my chain of command, the question of more stupid than malicious or more malicious than stupid doubly rhetorical. I hope Alexa bought the new guitar, Alexa, listen to these songs. Seethed sideways versus seized sideways no, seethed sideways and seized sideways unfortunately yes, it fuck





Reminder: professional Liberals think you are the enemyFuck the owners of Wizard of OzThe excellent taste of our benefactorsHow a woman becomes a piece of furnitureOccupy memory
All cops are bastardsGuru shit100% cracker for crackersReminder: professional Liberals think you are the enemyLack of belief in good
What animals think of deathReminder: professional Liberals think you are the enemyContemporary fiction's slow abandonment of literary voice
Reminder: professional Liberals think you are the enemyWhat's the matter with book reviews?New Atticus Lish novelReading RedburnSceptical credulity



DOG OVERBOARD!
(excerpt from THE KANE RICHMOND PROJECT)

John Ashbery

Why haven't I told you? Here, it's you mess, you finish it. Americans are everywhere in America and some places, though in lesser quantities, like when you're longing for somebody and that person longs for you, but for that to happen may be different. That other dark day, eleven years.... Other days will be chilly. Strange bugs appear.

All's a revival, she said. Some four-flusher may try to pinion you in the garden. Pay no attention, it will unbalance his pretense. Yet you had no business being there. His love will be of some use, to him, but of short duration. The cloud-like fingers will materialize over the recycled water. And I've got to go. Down there some dog may be fighting for his life. I'll risk that, take a chance on leaving you until the dusk comes again with its secret aromas. There is no time for meddling. How I wish I could take you with me to the piano, but one of us has to stay here; the other must guard the precinct. Excuse me? The instinct I meant to say, the others must gasp at their instincts and will be gone tomorrow too. Like a gypsy's painted cart the future trails off in the distance, useless. Useless as a barking dog, the meow of a cat, closing in on the chapter, vibrant once. Threaded now.

1 comment:

  1. Look out for those strange bugs and secret aromas.
    (My why fie has been going down sporadically, all day; it's made working a real chore. This may have been sent twice, for which I apologize.)

    ReplyDelete