Doesn’t exist as was above anymore. After debate, thankfully won by Fuck It (more often than not by lots Fuck It loses in many aspects of my life, many of those many loses valuable loss leaders in real life), I peeled off the yellow and blue masking tape though I thought this a good chapter one, much promise
Now that above the new above doesn’t exist does the pdf of what once existed count as an object now that no one can (not that anyone would) hold it, spin it, get fountain pen ink on the tips of fingers when you hold the edges to spin and flip over, and though you might see (but never hold, spin, get ink on your fingers) what I will glue to the back of the object that remains, *that* object will have no paste relationship to the above that no longer exists though it’s glued to what it was, yes or no, answer me, me
As for what remains on excellent cold press watercolor paper whose superior pigment absorption via rendered slaughtered horses’ hooves Fuck It if I fuck it up Fuck It if call it quits Fuck It does this poem exist, fuck yes
STARRING JOHN WAYNE
Bruce Smith
And so despising the fuzzy catkins
and REM sleep and oxycotin
of poetry and the sawings of the cello,
most of all the cello sawings, and the gallows
humor and the teacup Jesus
and the succubus and incubus
of mom and dad, he dreamed
of a form, a conquering scheme
that would allow metaphysics and and pleasure,
history and ecstasy, flower and terror.
He awoke to the big sky and obsession,
the justice and recrimination of Western-
source of all his right/wrong and wide-eyed
boy to the gun-play and genocide
that could not redeem him
by his death in the dust at high noon.
So he made his laconic man art
a bullet through the heart
in black and white
back lit, back shot,
a lot of shooting in the back
as a way of looking back-
nostalgic, Orphic, unwatchable,
American, simple, brutal.
two of my professors in grad school [perkins, d. v. & levine, m.] wrote a book on community psychology in which chapter 3 was titled ‘life is a soap opera’ – this weekend i found yet another example of how true that is in an open letter written by late postdoom activist and ‘compost theologian’ michael dowd – in it he explains to pastors – who might be considering whether he would a suitable speaker at their congregation – why he was disfellowshipped – and rightfully so – by the united church of christ – and how he turned his life around since then
ReplyDeletesimilarly, this work of art went in one direction and now, upon reflection, has gone in a different direction
who knows if it’s good or bad? but life is – among other things – a series of choices – and it is in letting go of a smaller sense of self that we become able to feel our connection with a wider swath of what is
Got rich links here.
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