Monthly Archives: February 2011

…DEALING WITH THE POLICE RIGHT NOW…

[response to: Nar: rative enflared…]

On edge

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…MY FEET IN THE WATER…

[response to departure…]

3 Sisters



…SOME JAMJOY BUT NO ALLOY…

[response to “Narrative re: gained”]

Nar: rative enflared, native rats engulfed in flames, enflamed in a gulf, gullets ablaze, emblazoned on our eyes in the form of creeping rivulets, rivers that seep and morph and rise into mazes across the Mercurial borealis, quadrated and conflagrated in the spectralcrater spectaculars lining the chromatist’s basin: a

molar mumpsimus. Like lemmings to the carapace, lambs to the fodder —

immolated lengthwise, strength in molestation, abrasions to the nth degree, with this decree they hereby break free, beer-high and fake-flee to the polar molewards, spokes annotated with ribbons and neon tape, stoked by supernatural bellows, coal-fired and hickory-smoked, their moldy skins rising past them in slick webs of sparks, and their

rodentine eyes slowly filling with red. Nothing cavilled, everything dead.

— we carom and combust, our last thought –  “ignite!” – in spite of the sawdust twixt our ears, everything bright with fear and bitter, we summit Glitterntin and salute Odin as smoke the smell of burning bones (razor as knife pitch as night) issues from our orifices and in one last sharpdark dash we


…DEF GETTING TO CHICAGO BEFORE THEN…

[response to your preference for salt…]

Hot Days


…ANOTHER WAVE HITS…

[response to: no i made a totem…]

Old Table


…THAT NEEDED PLANTING…

[response to “no i made a totem…”]

your preference for salt, no, more salt, preferred too tasty things and women \\ outlasted all of my desires except maybe my abilities to written \\ tactfully, avoiding power-struggle, the soup tastes good, of course, just not the soup i am looking for \\ thirty-two letters i wrote, only one index card’s worth arrived saliently or in fine, conditioning, on whether \\ will you carry it \\ will you hold it \\ you are consuming it \\ without salt for once I thought you might wonder how chewy a cricket or a roach in a battered \\ fragrance you’ve left fridged the kind i’m not like \\ from your body the salty kind \\ lingers and i can’t control it \\ and you can’t be eating it \\ head to long for summer the days \\ of sweaty skin are over for


…THE ROOF YOU’RE RENTING…

[response to the coffee under the coffee]

no i made a totem because it was neither you nor myself that i trusted
wondered i never could get you to like things without sugar and
guessed afterwards i always knew more about //you always pretended
you didn’t know more about power but // afterwards i didn’t write a letter
i wrote a string of them thirty-two to be honest and they fit on one side
of an index card and in red i’ll soon pick it up and fold it into strips and
even // i never wanted to know about summer it’s warmer now and the
roaches are back so much i wander out when the smell of repellent fills
the apartment and // cold cups of coffee stay on the desk where they’re
left // i remember distinctly the last thing i trusted was the smell of
grapefruit but // there’s a place somewhere out powerfully left // look at
the old sights this // have love what the highway and the head of state