Sunday, January 21, 2024

Wide-Eyed Boy to the Gun-Play and Genocide

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

Just a deer scoring a goal then celebrating
⬇️Shitlibs and motherfucking professional Democrats yelling at dirty fucking hippies: IT'S NOT GENOCIDE AND ETHNIC CLEANING!⬇️
Mossad: Fuck yeah it's genocide and ethnic cleansing, see how much fun we're having!
Gaza will be the grave of the Western-led world order
On the ruinous history of Religious Zionism
Israel's right to tyrannyGenocide is funny!
How Biden’s Foreign-Policy Team Got Rich
Biden Exceeds Worst Fears About Trump
U.S. President Engages In Therapeutic Killing Of Yemeni Children
What Happened to David Graeber?
Maggie's weekly{ feuilleton}'s
On a Sentence from Joseph McElroy’s Actress in the House
Olga Tokarczuk’s Divine Cosmos
New Diane Seuss interview (new book of poems out first week of March)
New Jesus and Mary Chain album in March, hear a couple of songs now
My Natural Snow Buildings obsession has returned, Baal bless my hatred of natural snow


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.


  1. 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

    similarly, 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