a smothering rock

symbolism

2012-02-13T06:59:00.000-08:00

alone and not by proxy, i am on the back of a roc looking at the dream

snuggle the culvert at its vanishing point disappointment true to form

drains vision to the point where it jerks back. i am thinking of leaving

some more particulars behind. like waves dipping their beaks into the dream.

or the dream scratching warily at a sun pupil.

there is a brood severely inclined to your voice that dribbles into flight
ceaselessly responding from one end to the others.

indulgence

2012-02-09T09:10:00.001-08:00

three maybe four lakes away. measuring distance off the cuff. the birds have their own
set of advantages. uplift. rim and yaw. you feel your shadows go to sleep. three maybe four
digits playing on the dashboard to beats as she makes a turn you floating on the side
the conversation takes over. you feel your legs go to sleep. had it coming. how bad
do you want it when you travel hours to the same spot to drink coffee?
standing in the sunlight like that. moving in what o’clock skies. you hope she wants you
to find your own way back.

completion and balancing

2012-01-24T01:57:00.000-08:00

to umm raqīqah possessor of senses swelling in sympathy with the preoccupation of snails

under the fingernail of a window i spent some nights with but the holding up to be read

pia mater: erroneous translation of arabic umm raqīqah [tender mother]

2012-01-17T04:30:00.000-08:00

triggerfish critical review (issue #8)

[some exciting poetry and criticism above. includes a sprawling discussion & sampling of ed pavlic's work]

springs

2012-01-10T07:05:00.000-08:00

into a troubled graft of oily wounds of imitations of snails in an orbit of discarded branches. “it flowed profusely and settled
on a side of the sun” that oversees plots of divisible waters of the organ of speech slowly rotated
of the invariant eye tearing thru the obliquity of the ecliptic of disclosures. “the rays enter through the opening at the top”
and circulate. some mountains close down a flower. mirror worlds bud into snails into beneficiation then explode back to earth.

every were

2011-12-30T20:40:00.000-08:00

the trap of trying to fall asleep at the same time as his would-be lover. even when away. she hears him

over the breeze giving her a rubdown. she calls up once or twice. the epsilon ring. surrounds the room.

then the table. squeezes him into a roughly cute shape. in the moment. “Have We not made

the earth a bed for you” oh yes. that too Averroes. trapped rooms in this house feature day and night.

pinched by the same set of compasses folded in the wall.

in the meantone

2011-12-24T10:39:00.001-08:00

the horizon with its spines, a cloud heads off a ship and beheaded knots of photosensitive skin under a wave of cotton. crowds on white paper. room plunged in darkness. pungent and headed for shore, shits himself twice on the way. each time new eyes on the plan make short work of a long first look. he dreams with women. how to get by on so little? does he have a dick? his footwork skips every second beat. heart in his mouth. sadness nibbles his every other move. floss-silk, violets and rose water. floating by in his attic 1 day. hands skimming papillae, notes. slight bumps of yellow and blue on a shawl. her hand always in thin walls of sweat. noise of windows sliding back in. washing out contrast. separating her from her friends. leaving her a shadow of whoever let her out in the first place.

attractive volumes

2011-12-16T18:53:00.001-08:00

snails number vague anchors. the night lifted from squares to corners to gaga. a happy cry
at the doorstep, a cloud starts due north, by 1 am, he starts painting, knowing his eyes
and hands not up to par, are better off chilled & inflating, a bolus stuck between two floors,
weighing stairs & a cabled drop. pins and needles breeze under a watery sky.

operand al-fajr

2011-12-08T22:15:00.000-08:00

caves in a far stretch of the river collect suitable brushstrokes. pixels, insides. some mountains close down a flower. leaving higher wreck at sundown, other salt feet pash

umm al dimagh as safiqa, no tablets burden a shoulder now lands on a caved door, the first balloon disappears into birds, flanking coir and mission grist. a lice surfaces in heat, blue at its ends, between stairs, worlds and yawn.

when asked for it they make it comfortable. blister their thickset skin already close to al-fajr. scribes lug seas between themselves, pitchers and umm salt deposition, packed buoyancy, clearest middle length. حلقات أحد الأبيض فمها الثرثرة

[the white sun rings her yammering mouth]

"The name "dura mater" is derived from the Latin "hard mother" or "tough mother", (translation of Arabic umm al-dimagh as-safiqa)"

"Operation AL FAJR is a compelling case study of combat at the tactical level..."

frottage

2011-11-27T08:51:00.001-08:00

it’s disheartening not to know the beach as a desert

no access is no hope to snag success in love

return is the result of a tide always sinking

the first sight jumpstarting thought denying

recourse to the transient, all i assume is thinking

for itself. everything is necessarily contingent

without remainder, like walking into the same bookshop

three times a month & hoping for a girl to show up

every time. populating my memories with how things felt

blunt or polished, without names, just childhood tactile

infinite. without hum limits to it. or even assuming

the trick of it. remembering just enough in dreams to

bypass what there is no conscious need for to remember.

keeping an eye out for shadows where there used to be

nothing. red surfaces next to green, but quickly damps

down movement. not moving enough. just enough to keep

things moving. coffee, exercise, plain vanishing in

the face of it all. is it warm? is it real? this one time

i turned frotteur, held a woman’s hand till she shook it off.

“reason, which after all always appears

in combination with a certain method” (feyerabend)

on flower

2011-11-24T08:04:00.001-08:00

on flower use-repeating emotions

buzz color, ambivalent seashore

with shy Tanguy head looking back

over its left shoulder, sunlight loose

ns its arrangement, a garden pea

in a bowl rolls dead center, singing

her migrant wave back, default planet

rising if any, light assumed within

reflex, to reconstruct i hurt my

eyes to look ahead, mind rms & flow

matter to whom roof brow roof builds

keeping a low profile, uses light from

low suns, outdoors in a storm, burst

in a car head bloom.

Al Ras al Mar'ah as Musalsalah

2011-11-07T07:45:00.000-08:00

his mind turned a remark over
punctuation pinpricks
stars kept staring thru him
troubled into sprints
moving between the road
& the careless
caitya slant below which
his room in the chance-lit
rms every wave
breaking on it
backwash the lights
of passing cars
trouble looking in
pillars
whose giant blooms
hit the roof
miles above
the more he stares
the less it makes sense
the trancelucence
migrant metal within
every generation
must build its own city?
prompted a series of questions
that promptly left him
to go roost on the dome
a beehive of stars
makes every last bone in
the arcade concave
he douses these thoughts
& goes back on
the stairs that weaken
his knees every night
their lack of force
rising at right angles to
the wall hangings of offices
counting fingers
in every direction plucking
sunlight lines of sight
dangling from the dome
he climbs the stairs
spooning the plush
& the angle of rising
becomes increasingly
slanted 126 niches
close to each other
their simplicity
invested
in the dark between
then & there
smell the smell of earth
from his paranoid feet
to retrace
every wave to a blind spot
the antumbra spoons
& gulps
"his room in the chance-lit
rms every wave
breaking on it"
&c

forum for experimental poetry

2011-10-28T02:03:00.001-07:00

i have started a small poetry board, the diametric next. it's meant to be a space for reading/discussing/critiquing everything that is experimental/innovative/non-mainstream poetry/art. if you want honest feedback on your work, or air your praxis, you can post there. you can also read & comment on work posted by others, or join in/start discussions.

The diametric drive was a speculative proposal for an "engine" which would create a non-conservative gravitational field with non-zero curl. It was argued that in such circumstances, the side of the field which creates more force on the spacecraft will accelerate the spacecraft in the direction of the force.
One idea for realizing this concept involved hypothetical particles with negative mass, originally proposed by Robert Forward and Jamie Woodward. If one were to construct a block of negative mass, and then attach it to a normal "positive" mass, the negative mass would fall towards the positive as does any mass toward any other. On the other hand, the negative mass would generate "negative gravity", and thus the positive mass (the spaceship itself generally) would fall away from the negative mass. If arranged properly, the distance between the two would not change, while they continued to accelerate forever. It has been argued that stability issues might arise.

2011-10-22T11:55:00.001-07:00

she labors over striations
the middle notes, the stones’
winning qualities.

wood ache jammed low
on verandahs sighing in gorges,
populations swimming intense
to lāzaward,
any contact with the acid sun
shrugged off by choice by design,
each local environment steady,
cruel. none of my business.

shows ill shows will says no to scattered policies meet thin air,

but outcomes tracks ground brush
single state emporium, domestic ivory,

show of hands in water. offshore sand
lifted in song, between this world

and the diametric next, clouds
that consider the world

no big shot, dot of red and darkened sun
كما يظهر شيء في الملح المحمومة رميات العضلات رائحة لدينا التحرك بحرية

[shows up as nothing in the hectic salt throws off our scent muscles move freely]

appetition instinctively

2011-10-20T20:07:00.001-07:00

[yves tanguy: multiplication of the arcs, 1954]

together, snails lift red into ivory and ivory into red, out under the keels, circulating ill

-will wrestles missiles to the ground. and together compassion-man-commodization brush

clouds their b & w stairs. every sea a zone of darkened silver muscles, world-waves

hinged at the Magellani. hatched at Godhra, i wake up, keep to the side of every frantic

patrol, stop sadness right in its tracks. الشمس تجر العالم بعد ذلك الذي يمكن أن يحرق ولكن

[the sun drags the world after it for which it can but burn]

glossolalia

2011-10-13T22:32:00.000-07:00

held together by compassion by lashings, silver keels split into eyes, patrols roll out the

sea, a use-repeating mother, face buried in waves, zona hatching missiles to lift a patois

of sick, divers would wrestle a net, under glass leaves

join an ivory hinge to vortices of ill-will. i want you circulating at my feet like a snail's,

the straits of Magellani, Silicone at your breast. we eat the flesh of parrots white, red,

green and black. أستيقظ من النوم كل ليلة على ظهر طائر المحمومة التي تحاك الضرب في العالم

[i wake up every night on the back of a frantic bird that hatched swiping at the world]

زنانہ (zenana)

2011-10-06T01:44:00.000-07:00

“there is in it an inner mind, an inner vital being of ourselves, an inner or subtle-physical being larger than our outer being and nature”- aurobindo

we knew the city down to its landmarks
light dots fading into color circles
wet streets walked worn and deeper
into the same felt with hands & wheels
“a house in such a district and of such a
fashion” i came in your mouth every time
we ended up making love. we had picked up
the habit from uploaded couples & the sea
lights would rock low to breeze remains

back to hearing myself in continuum
spider in coffee can cross leg up Umm

the stairs get rearranged all evening
so you end up knocking on the same door
draped over the bony shoulder of our bed
biting your nails & smooth-talking the lice
into blowing sand

the making of a martyr

2011-10-04T05:38:00.000-07:00

“the (instantaneous) increment or decrement, of the (continually) increasing quantity x.”

for a change
darkened a reservoir
placed a sandstone chin under curtains wavestacked
next a vision that sounded distinctly from the sky
but which depth-sounded
went down & down-brought them around

the lip of a square room
the sea & a tusk dead center curving from the clouds
tilling hollow earth grasslands
where they stood hand in hand
wired thru & thru their soft sides
a bridge dancing on the bad nova

he meditates that he dies
his body rigid above hers
snot suspended inches from her face
cold burns radiant on his forehead
something from that
“the fountain”

something about weisz & a postcolonial fascination with Kenya
no, the other one
this was just a rehashed story of love & the fall of man
so he goes back down on her
curls up into a black, angry knot at her temple
she wakes up with her hands gripping the covers

in singular years he sang on the platform there
her silence found a way into his perceptions
the system’s water wheel struggled with previous expansions & investigations
creeping past terrorist nonchalance
drew plastic milk from starry pools of convergence
more importantly all this was an exploded insight into how things could be put right

they believed in how they believed
milk, roses, millimeter waves thrown at the sky
the sea biting back visionary images
the balustrade ringed with the hellos of a thousand
vanished into
air "before our time"

that makes them count the days down
trying to eat enough & everything their last night together
next morning, still together in a square
she sucks her thumb / he daubs his chest with rose water
strapped up, left the lights on
down the street past staggered waves

حورية‎

2011-10-02T00:17:00.001-07:00

she ropes in Data brightness from the clouds

that single out a flat night out on the water

oars exactly Umm

al-dimagh as-safiqa. flowers hide the planet

my love zooms across the cave of the sky

mouths a lump out to the edge. flats

& sharps fixate on her. a satellite dumps

fever thoughts diamond density on her path

function the ceaseless waves ascend to the

sky. gives commodization a second try, then

refined Thangka winks at her, a nature

bootstrapping all addresses a magnified sky

left to itself. sunset distempers what a sight to

high thin countries that mean business

to goals to thread as far as ear drones Fuck

payload winging it

2011-09-23T05:35:00.003-07:00

" manufactured

deep in its White Only mirror."

(john wilkinson)

Fine-grained, masking in & out of men, blows her ears, sea salt assays, stopped short of traffic lights, shifting sunlight of out. Beveled in the single lap, painting from commodization, their ceaseless breath, sunset waves, extreme rep hallooing to have back, choicest birds fly dura, a use-repeating mother, umm al-dimagh as-safiqa.

On this low person, lice pops, shit, head breeze stamp, suns thickset it. Flower clouds, stems astern, old use threads stomachs into floats. Scribes & sea-faring men, vitals threading an intending index by far the clearest look waxed into man’s ear. Look back up. Stairs white fancy brings home, pluck buzz shifts will integrate current leaving the hennaed rock.

Worlds or yawn, cue nakedness, middle notes capture men in a cave. Stairs, shifts, elbows tame experience simply left to magnify itself. Birds cant to chords, dragged furniture, feet, soaked leaning audible men, semitone verandahs.

Washboard blue, breeze fuck work cries feet up, fusion lumpy between its simply so & remembering. Moving fear, moving countries, moving drones, floods faces incoming, all captured with leaning.

Love a thin dead blister, dead atmosphere. Fear remainder. Her pluck of thick sails, replace each crop dry art integrates in damaged fancy.

Dura drones strange mater, whole rearranged pours sharp any sight sewed. Suns stretched pop experience means, planet horizons planed.

Gaze love in mouthful sail, heat flow, breathe.

Masks blowing fire downstairs, our goals flicker on our mission globes, frisked blue leaving mind orbit, pinpricks. His disordered ear higher, she loves order, wets perimeters.

unfolded east-west

2011-09-11T05:43:00.000-07:00

Photocopied, a lake swallows orbit, jumps

holy fuck stuck up men that astern look her up. Backstrokes a harbored sky

Buildings left to flicker where traffic blister packs

release each sunset. Moving, remembering thru address pluck

hard by her ear
filler horizons
home in

two pops as lust drives into an audible sunset

slightly lumpy sails room him
the bird the amnesiac planet

Sun finds use for two worlds

man, a thin failure shifting
line of sight, muslin grip

nightly yawn between stairs

planet skin stretched

sun a pocketed inquiry

shuffling new nakedness
love he stirs shit
to the floor
he that mans art

ghost hair
hennaed
drag feet
experience

thickness
thickset
vitals crop up

haunting needs distance
“is of modest gaze”
in inaction

"leaving behind this erased remainder
whose name it denies. Indeed, this

structural reason is unwilling to recognize
anything other than the transparent play

among places"
raisins, drones beveled

to use two Suns to scribe two worlds

* italics: badiou, koran

stag tshang

2011-09-07T07:46:00.001-07:00

"For the economy, it is the circle of life..."

“The manager and the functionary in the work bond become, together, a reconstructed self.”

Art sky reborn

strange Men aim web

thru nakedness at a re

move simply exist

fashion his old self flower

floods the orbit

painting the brush exhausts

work bond open

cries commodization rep

aired means sky

planet his nest tames

its damaged terms lump

aspirations knowing all

Can sky rediscovered

can orbit can man to some to give

its elbow

is to take to become

interior monologue atmosphere

smells of a half formed nature

no element so proportioned as to have any smell

birds sail trees

the web floats to the cave

to give up holy to give up

use

less

rights flow refined

in ceaseless orbit

flower worlds lust

tigress vitals

failure his new address

past it

staggered
waves

out on a limb

2011-08-31T09:09:00.001-07:00

“What the Sword-wind of the Desert” brings

to the table-Khayyam’s practiced joints

interlock jetties. highways pinned to the wheel

broad honeyed thumbprints. rainbow-weighted

woodlice plotting their snubs. while the Sun shows

waist up. flickers. fish enter thru spanned shoulders

& thin blades

oar the same

square. a desert manhandles the building.

the landing lights pop.

i spent tonight looking for you. tomorrow we might be closer.

Sun, man, stairwell reach for

the same socket, in shock.

strong beats paired together

take the stairs, two at a time

amplitude eats up the steps

half the phrase

resigned to tejas

mouth upwind, nearly ship-like

teeth fan out from a stairwell

sails sift white as a planet’s

full circle

spills where he gives

a flying fuck

& his skin fills the floor

with ash

slightly full of shit too

like a ghost who just

reached out to pluck

some G-flat grapes

from a ridiculous distance

a desert repeatedly

fattens up Khayyam

only to cut him down.

holds with his lovers.

gives him dry, blue

hickeys.

washed up

2011-08-25T01:53:00.000-07:00

i found myself. in a white room. subject to all inquiries that refuse analysis. flat on the ground. lapped low so oars drew close to my ears. regretting Sun masks a man. needles rearrange by ear. on cue, sharp head, cold feet stamp, clouds circle disordered-high & tiny. frisked by a lucid breeze for incoming theta waves (fists tumbling low walls, experience soaking sand) rest against whole faces that point due sunlight. lap at heat shaped blue. a flat breeze sterns out that sunset. the bird, photographed, takes off.

the skin courses pinpricks. off you go, haunted with a rock in place of your head offensive to its own lice. time & again where fists refuse, back up the sea. subjects left out to dry, refuse no strands. the sunset integrates her hair into a chignon it can never be. he crawls down thru ill stomachs.

each fancy or wall for the dead pours sunset into the square. a high on low remembering. chords come masking the floor. a mouthful of crow. wiseass revolutions.

his intending the choicest waves, thick, leaning, without a womb. a dura mater repeating contact. blowing. its breath disappears into crowds.

waves where a person shooting his seed into hair burns with a mind he flickers alongside. shifts his elbows out at sea.

"despair through the fear of its becoming audible" (adorno)

stump

2011-08-19T12:47:00.001-07:00

"the erect human posture" (steinberg)

Sun burnt thru my back

its tiny, thick fists kneaded

out a dome under each pore

sweat round about the blue

a head comes shooting

back at Earth, i want my room

bent out of shape by heat now

dura mater, my hair flickers

getting into my sleep, chords

lap a morning shower whole

the choicest erotic

strands of regretting

...

2011-08-14T07:56:00.001-07:00

Or music that places a great white paw on the wall

As the sunset blows up

waves a series thru

the first image generated
at will faces crow

d the same window

brilliance attack

see where you are

simply let go

crowds pour
lice over a chignon
head

Sez who (lucier)

memory her tall order

her womb airs

as she moves

Alvien Lucier

treble continents

2011-08-09T08:55:00.000-07:00

"unchallenged not unchallengeable, for anything that is immediately evident may later,through further sadhana, yield place to something else then” (Kalidas Bhattacharya)

the figure strays

the term, vanishing

creative upshot

with a stabilization

hunch

at the temples, nooks

of the storm we must imagine

velum comma

lidded eyes
of a hoist
gently folding knees

corridors

the lightened process tours

a palate

straining to taste rudra veenas

carbon cupped

into hiding

played by ear,

steady puffs

from a carburetor

signing off
the evening

plankton hatching

soaring over snagged a branch

with a single tooth, a graph

subjugated. irritated

long enough

to be convincing,

but close enough

to gnaw at flaws
breaking in
predictions

slip

2011-07-31T07:08:00.001-07:00

"day won to insecurity-undoing of visions" (tzara)

every paint kinds, tumescences, lightens its way out

he shifts into hand, into building, into relief

hands, trees, moon in the impasto socket, another

drop of smooth look, stairwell, thin neck with patient

face streaks into a fully-clothed upwind, would have

kept at it, macerated something, shovelled fat clouds

hoping the dark thin, & hilting that oily ghost of

nearly everything, lawn off tilted heads & tunneled

larval gestures, wingtips held onto, a scraping

turning into air, neck to fingertips, tipping the knees

backward, smooth last look of nearly everything

dried cautiously, the circles were broken, disordered

every possible manner, so that when they moved

they were tumbling to pieces, at one time then upside

down, as you might imagine a person who is upside down

& his head leaning upon the ground, his feet up against

something in the air, fancy the right of either is his left

powerfully experiencing these similar effects, the revolutions

love in metallic contact with some external, no course

or sensations enter violently from without & oars float

that seeming to conquer, are really conquered.

blowflies

move ass to mouth

rearrange...

(contains some reworked material from Timaeus)

2011-07-29T20:56:00.000-07:00

"...he no longer gathers up the landscape"
(Adorno)

confined lust for pure copper

in a white room

starting from scratch

“a picture hangs in a room”

terracotta head
with square beard
at the window
scratches & light cover

the waterfront

raises a head wave
works up the sky

balanced

on two hoops

i roll up curtains

thin the view

grasp

the sun

humming

going out more now

that i have a place to stay in

makes so much of me

more desirable

have started greying

birds in sonnets

winging

2011-06-20T08:05:00.001-07:00

The horizon rolls up

halfway

thru the recording

bird bits off a string

comic-bandwidth stars

lean heavy on these oars

Steer the belly around

& the delicate lamina

folded back to haunt us

Clockwise curtains float

where the rain drives

the sea closer

half diminished slant

its doors to the wall

Almost fucking

in a singing faucet
believe

her own ear flowers

“Once let the sun rise

& we can’t hide it

any longer”

(spinning now)

Clouds dangle

vortices up the

atrium & sun

terrace, a hall of
whirlpools

It’s their knot their

matted impasse

muted waves

woof that makes

her available

recall

2011-06-10T06:25:00.000-07:00

Clouds

Swell her cuticles

Low-slung

Rays reach

Into a sleeve

diagonal

around the neck

to the throat

where it forms

a knot

the atrium shone

with a new-found

liking for people

reflexive

heel caught

one size too

fits all

circles of light

in the hall of

whirlpools

pull a face at the

Sun

Grew bas vitro

hills puffs

as expected faded

at woof which waves

terrace vortices

the water comes up

suns with mud on

their lips

Heart on its muted

peroxide That

better insight

dangles

arpeggios cages

waves

arrays a thru

brightness to impose

on her plea circles

available north.

"a simple scapegoat fantasy"

2011-06-01T10:30:00.000-07:00

Internal

a wet soil blanket

rail-track

fidgets

a passing sky

drunk on minutes

unfolding controls

a Tusk tenon milks

their necks

Vortices

in transit

between squares

& clouds

"Shooting an Elephant."

Orwell writes,

But there

contested

feet emerge from under

A trading air

gushing over them

crashes to hue

the tracks lead into

& out of the landscape

separates from

the clouds

Their passing blues

patter

sun-wide & flickering

“the color of a place

insofar as this place

is an origin” turned back

snowballs

an impact that

thumbs thru

these quickened

waves

italics: jean luc nancy, homi k bhabha

glint

2011-05-26T23:10:00.003-07:00

“a partly dry inkbrush will leave flashes of white as it drags across the silk”

- james wilkins

Bend expected mostly

where there was sky

inflected waves she set

running into each other

vanes stirring by command

a slacker hall of whirlpools

Accidental to say

the ambient was a trail to

increase a hand projected

set out against depth bas

-relief

Or current an explicit

north, metal oars

her heart

beads wound the sun

mid wind

dip-

Clouds winded

then rolled into

one pluperfect sunrise

after another

Strap right there

arpeggios winded

res cogitans

dropping
into her mouth

like flies

tracking

2011-05-24T07:56:00.000-07:00

a moment’s layout

sketch of the parking

in space the without

woof of the blinding

his ear drums a croon

eyes & gums impugn

“this presence which re

mains for you the pre

sent” induced thru floors

sun his head burning

she cradles, spits spores

out of his hair, stung

the life she led while

he grew rung by rung

drag a sun uphill

squeeze till overkill

retracts the home cage

a siphon next to

windows banged, aged

clapping shores faded

“Wanting but franchise

ment and memorie”

the moon has her by

the throat slides & plea:

all extremities

being equalities

far from the centre

being extremities

Notes

1. Alone with the alone: Creative imagination in the work of Ibn Arabi

2. Chapman: The Shadow of Night

3. Intercostal retractions are the inward movement of the muscles between the ribs as a result of reduced pressure in the chest cavity. The movements are usually a sign of difficulty with breathing.

running jump

2011-05-14T22:59:00.001-07:00

"the threat is muted, familiar values impose themselves, and in the end the mind reduces the pressure upon it by accommodating things to itself as either 'original' or 'repetitious'

-Homi K. Bhabha

...the entire creature was in motion, but it was disorderly movement, chaotic and irrational progress involving all six kinds of motion. It travelled erratically in every one of the six directions — forward and back, right and left, down and up. For it was a mighty wave that washed over it and ebbed away from it, a mighty food-supplying wave, but even greater was the disturbance caused by the properties of things as they struck the body — as any given body met and collided with fire from outside and elsewhere, or with a solid mass of earth, or with liquid streams of water, or when it was overtaken by a gust of air-driven wind — and when the motions caused by all these things passed through the body and struck the soul. In fact, that is why these motions came collectively to be called by the name they still bear: ‘sensations.’

-from Timaeus

He gets caught up in the stairs
one ranged step & one slightly floating
damp, the crippled sunlight bares
his ear, he communicates back with a ring
unwinding each eye into the awe grinding
where resolution is no fair, last year’s
he hears low-pitched or thrown overhead
uneasiness catches up, softens his head
to velocities similar to what the new arrivals
impart, grazes his fingers, he slows down
to invite harmony sparking thru his hair
‘the threat is muted, familiar
values impose themselves’
his shirttail catches in the banister

midnight with every passing sting
he stays on the dust deep-breathing
hot germs cling to the sun
spools shaped by rotation
pedaled thru confusion & confused longing
is it in future projects that
the amalgam nears 9 times
denser than red hot nails at
work:
himself free to take a protracted course
the wincing sun mounts the binaries
spider legs up the river
swells with passing maneuvers
south with the fine structure & knows
best "the firm foot was ever the lower"
quenched lower in the river throes
heat increases pressure
that puffs up his chest
siphons his brightness

flywheel

2011-05-13T09:54:00.000-07:00

Let it come by its own, or fall by the road

re past that swimming brings up. If it

wished to be sure of it would not strike. Walk

nightly, stop by trees, kitchens out deep in. Laugh,

arch, leash, feeding clouds wail, while or sever

financial years, leaves stink, yes, all enhance.

Dream arch Paschen glides its first stone

a seat afresh silent by a head in her way. Was

in its like count outdid stars or stars all shook up

”learned, by Jupiter, and weighty!”

All miserable, climb inside art, deporting

at a glide, any sun rests its head against the door
on no earth soon and caw red tablature

enhance autumnal smoky light to think of.

italics; Carmen 85 (translation: Justin Neill)

the fly crew leave as one

2011-05-10T23:18:00.000-07:00

i heard from her

that it was easy

enough

to hear from her

without

distraction

just squint slightly

& slightly larger

brick houses

appear

some past alright

slice of a sun

shared windows

broke

into a rash

of clouds

off-course

sloped blue-green

rain-drawn flapped

back into a cove

strings wheels past

the flights that

loop her in

only waves

could drop could

thick neck ice

cough

asbestos shearing

into emergency

mouth sink cello-

phane with milk

the sea shutdown

spray a waterspout

darling

hospitable

focus & eccentricity

2011-04-28T05:56:00.000-07:00

“...a mouth now stretches out, and opens up a little, and it seems to be aimed at joining the four horizons.”
-Antonin Artaud

Husks, bridges, folios

hold her down. Grapes

surface & slide, lets bird

itself decompose. High

-rise fixed symptoms

lop off trees those

catchments past the road

that needle her. What

o’ clock oars, no hunches

no lunch breaks, wits

caught on a branch, noontides

frothing for a spell

whipped & cooled
by the sea

Thirsty her cycles

about clouds

bear up, stiff sand brightly

boulders pissed

at letdown

passes between likely

collapse

birds perched

on waves. Eavesdrops

in the all-sea these

symptoms bear

a pleuritic image

a day gone

haywire

thru the eyes. Likely

grains stand in for birds.

Thirsty, she coughs

up sand

A blind spot crawls

past, its nude gills

slim waves on

the horizon.

It took her

several walks back home

(where her furbelow

stretched & every door

shrunk) to serve her

memory. At the set mouth

of the sea, muscles pace

back & forth. She balled

up her bed

in the end dreamt

only in light & dark.

Put thru her paces
kneed this surface

at the back knots up, as

a soluble planet cycles, these

body- bound birds

walk on elbows, brush

the single oiled eye of

what day is it. Apes breathe

brightly long clouds.

Mouths onward repetition

for us stream. Bent bright

incense

shunting it

cool thru them.

foolscap

2011-04-21T20:33:00.000-07:00

End of
an atmosphere
Needle way
coin end-path
clouds tied
to a crosstalk
a vertical
sheet of vapor
muslin
yawn between
stairs

hushed biofilm :

a remembered
way with fricatives, think
this atmosphere, a coin
on the clouds
suns, off & on
wrap a wrap a
bird a pinned insight

Cloud line needles

the paradox of youth

“cellules psychique”¹

shifts & sees

a moveable coil

at an angle to the

breeze, a cricket

shifts & sings

to avoid a casting

net a shadow an

unmoored black

night, touch & go

1. Santiago Ramon y Cajal

willing

2011-04-15T11:50:00.000-07:00

Soluble her

willful distance put

her thru her paces

meditates

convincingly

the look limes back

birds ruffle

up the Sea

her golden needles

long lashes

a single eye merged

with three shanks

evenly spaced

a few knots

slopes girders

boulders rise

low-rise oars spin

with back to the crest

knees to the chest

She bends brightly

husks

fixed noontides

A collapse fire

wrists in

burst sea cloud

cunning the cunning sea

Lips throat tail

all-brow

epic fruits glowing

hushed up all-sea

Notes:
birdlime: a sticky substance smeared on small branches/twigs to capture small birds

golden needle: gum jum

take to

2011-04-10T04:08:00.001-07:00

bright golden forehead

purple & black throat

clipped the tail off
spins up

spills in a nest

non-log wings

stiff oars bent back

wrists spread

the host lips

slapped with oil

the body of this

breaks waves

on both

a soluble planet

duty cycles

burst & bound from

collapse white

around the eyes

why keep these
Godwits about us

melt decompose

haywire purple

needles in a cloud

she blows on

on whispers

2011-04-07T09:53:00.001-07:00

a tall pointed black crest, a dark

spur

running onto the breast at shoulder

level
fibrous over the ocean shadow

eyebrow long & stiff

arched & fitted to a floating

point on the sea, the earth-

sun distance a knot

in the throat the invasion

slips from the chest

capable movable science

as the plume sinks

it folds in

kinds of limes, ashes in clouds

gets a rise

spoken for

2011-04-02T08:21:00.000-07:00

out of place spoken for

the subject stood
before an open door

apes shut-in space

repetition

leads to coherence

i climbed

& the road itself

had muscles

frothing

the bridges between

clouds themselves

sweeps itself

an odor of grapes

where the houses move in

brings out

what o’clock skies

from behind their backs

incense sticks

‘y will not be chosen

when x is available’

i turned

to open the door

the image as

a substitute

reflects & breaks

steps down escaping

the surface

we moves into
minimum
signature watersheds
grains
turned each
with a toe

Notes

1. the poetics of space (Gaston Bachelard)

2. Theory of the Subject (Alan Badiou)

3. Liberty and Social Choice (Amartya Sen)
4. Simple Optical Models for Diagnosing Surface–Atmosphere Shortwave Interactions (Michael Winton)

on noises

2011-03-27T09:13:00.001-07:00

“When I half-closed my eyes, there remained only a narrow slot through which I regarded intensely what I wanted to see. Then I turned around three times and thought, by so doing, I’d caught- trapped-what I was looking at, so as to be able to keep indefinitely not only what I had seen, but also the colors, the noises.” -Lartigue

On noises lye eager

over where phosphorus

and a gold-salt idler

sat eyes skinned

purple bearings

across the afternoon

dry balled-up self

turned aside what

ire headed up breezy

white into its briny dent

into the cheek only knots

riding full a fiat

of oil slapped

clear against the blue

this already bulging'
'all smooth sailing, though
'an umbrella' with
wetted theory
'hunger'
with its land
plunges into that
exercise
in crypsis

riding that sigh
were the pigeons
around them
fanned a warmed
forehead
parabolic insets
forced open
prismatic clouds

Notes:

Social Exclusion- concept, application and scrutiny (Amartya Sen)

weak lensing

2011-03-24T18:31:00.000-07:00

Willing epic mind

Marbles fire lips

shut me out

park mouth at the husked sun

to catch it on a low day

Cooled forehead

Walks in shade

meditates

likely a place

convincingly reaches out

a few fruits shake

a few marbles

thirsty bird

walk around in her cool

mouth

Near mars more than

a cool moon resolves

The sand stream & pitted trees

True bearings

serve as symptoms

Eavesdrops

a stream passes thru

Fixed stares & a fixed look back

cunning fanned

from the brow

then the letdown

of it all on me

Without a shoulder

to all of it so to speak

“the gift without thematizing”

2011-03-18T22:07:00.001-07:00

Cool dented steam turns

tees on her back

thru marbles drops

suspense paint ringed ears

crusted mouth

pin-drop the half-lit eyes

Open against wipes

tempering

she shuns surprise

forecasts flocks

losing thread altogether

in open arms

a blinding binary

“absence & loss”

spinning out dots

in a strain

long upwind

sun rasping cells

a thin gold leaf

behind the ear

wakes

and air fakes

transported

Forehead wiped clean

of short waves

stretched ropes

glass noises

back up the road

sand blasted knees

Pops & bluing

she stops &stares

"let us be

here & now"

The field held its ground

kiting letters

distillation

2011-03-13T09:26:00.000-07:00

Treading water where rougher

channeled belts turn

back to the ire rough ropes

to hang on a few

come storming further skies

thoughts turned aside

blurt along quenched
thru shove instep

riding him into the eye

by curls set on

drop insets

Like circled sat his location

eager in the eye flame

somewhat sublime idler

Can rigor question his

steaming brine thru finding?

Crushed of flags

strike-slip ride

&crash their pin-drop

rings as they fly not

a uniform edge gulps

hot gold sodden

the Other eye

a burdened door

the sea borne in on paint

molar bits

titters skirts breezy up

slowly works lips

furbelow

moments flying stiff

to open or dock

undercut open

reason prism flames

packing scabs

Turned loose further, the match

spurned a white moth

at the door sighs, pounds the jaw

lights in a flat hall of steam.

Balled-up seas set

sensibly apart on the fore. Rest

the cheek on the wheel, temper

to cost

an Eye and cool lost face

in one fell

2011-03-08T07:15:00.000-08:00

the salt lamp outshines its location

"forehead, cheek, chin, nares, axillae"

sheer drop comes to shove

cold flies out of him like turds

bore pigeons to the room with

him, the objective picks up at

the last, drowns the case

in an insistent note making

a quick turn-on out of

thin air, piping

a crapshoot thru & thru

that quickly heightens
from here
the weak edge, the sun

“i start out by saying what i feel is necessary”

and vaguely scratching, to make

two eyes scab of bubbles of a sodden

“burdened by questions

prescribed by reason”

loose cannon, wetted

the paint

breezy walls

flying

between skies

on a roll

2011-03-01T08:40:00.001-08:00

“the ears are the only orifice

that cannot be closed”
unfortunately
introduced this way

everything is a trap

opens its parabolic mouth

wipes free petrified marbles

think latched

think the purple dent shook

itself, dry bubble knots

threads a hook, diverts the sun

saline suspense

lye low

“in short, I was rather out of place

in the picture"

the effective area

proved a walk around

the park

bird streamlines

cooled oil

in a blunder factory

boxes, a worktable

sides

with deathwatches

the salt lamp outshines its location

"forehead, cheek, chin, nares, axillae"

pushed over

a lung-half biting into

crystal space

the house grew around me

the roads grew wild around the house

quotes: Lacan, The Genus Micrococcus (H. Skin)

wash out

2011-02-25T06:19:00.001-08:00

a square playground cupped & noises broke off

washing over demands for time far-out

moments skipped out to an anti-fog

a hill stacked pin-drop skirts where they sat

pulled out pink sighs each a moment's match

struck with the pastel riparia a rougher bargain

that rigor head fenced prayer flags breezing the laminar curls

nearly astride but still not much of a hedge

movement in millivolts, the dark adapted human eye

can of course undercut but the slides bear each other out

the door i walked out off the hump the sun a burning-

on-my-back index pushed turned their faces away

just shadows pinned on pamphlets further delayed

dogged

2011-02-20T00:01:00.001-08:00

Run, sicced on smell, molecular, putative but

captured, uniformly around piles up. Order

for one & wave off girlish titter, crushed up against

the glass, finding ends eager to correspond, flagging

orbits, a balled-up moth punching thru a furbelow

Sun. The closest letters kited, correct instep, tempering

low silicon, slow to anger, curtains around the corner.

A passionate low-mass, the Gyr-sense flashes, stiff

lightning across hatched skies, every few seconds

anyhow, helping along in the main. “Not governed

by logical laws.” packed in with a dry vapor. sublimation

of planets & citations. Several hot without (“the sensible

always breaks in”) on a rotating dock. Depletion & rushed

-white cymbals dumped on blank eccentricities, “full circle”.

italics: Frege

"of a sleep pour wood"

2011-02-16T03:32:00.001-08:00

Lets a holding at the lip thought turned

brine rose-red

fevers two

nights ahead

cauterize

pastes

Sun courses

Eyes

a density open at

the Decadal gold waves

coursing

flat nourishment

a blot from

running

of running into

Millennial sorting

further

out-sort or gloss lip

but ahead, brine

cooling the two

estimated

a flame

shivered

when run on a wheel

cost their diamond

Sun & but

an idler

gulps a sun

steaming

or driven from

the forest floor

pins & needles

breezy

worked over
his eyes

radially
the staid sea

surface

"feet bright red"

2011-02-13T17:07:00.000-08:00

striking out, a cup-like depression, out in the open

pointed blue-green with yellow tips, thoughts

in kind, neck-deep, griping over, cooling down

what clustered became the pins & needles forest-

floor suns, cloyed & with broken hearts

force-fed into severally. so a point made could

only expand upwind of her. and so alert

the whispers. their load of straws improving

blast foam turning to suds in the midnight

bath, slathered on without the surroundings

livening, in its fantasy, slate-blue & waxed clean

beds furnish the entire coast, fused, winking

"thru a hole in the rock"

2011-02-10T10:23:00.000-08:00

clouds took

off from the playground

& into the grind

easy puffs

broke into birds shuttling tall

what o’clock skies held steady or let be

two bees climbing

an elevator, calling quietly out to

their mother

on the ceiling

between

the slats

torn between

reflections

& off the hook

“If, after looking steadfastly at a white patch on a black ground”

2011-02-04T22:13:00.000-08:00

combusted, thru pores
light your splitting
from sunlight
making its rounds
on the ceiling
builds enchanting
peers there fit in council
run into thicker
cover as the day
runs thru
its line-driven
winds

stare water
waves
hedges
blank looks
seesaws
beneath
Scheherazade
crawling/holding
her breath
her candled belly
a brood’s

damp oars
inside
a very thin
burn
your dreams
strung up
brimming a sun
then storming

candled: Test (an egg) for freshness or fertility by holding it to the light

...absorption in spectral lines can drive the fast stellar winds of luminous hot stars. These winds are called line driven winds.

reworking

2011-02-02T11:44:00.001-08:00

mineral abundance comes seaward to

mass wasting, that & a mimic

blue patch on either side of the neck

a white patch, furbelow

the thinner crust on a better day

wings it, bright yellow applause

sent ahead, clouding the saddle point

bathes his teeth in blood, punctuates

during these events early

on the long waves break, to stay with us

fumbling, pushed further inland, into contrast

only bird-bolts & blots go perfectly with

the season, braces narrative as the path

of mourning, keeps a fair straight face

"Mass wasting is the downslope movement of rock, regolith, and soil, under the influence of gravity.

"In mathematics, a saddle point is a point in the domain of a function which is a stationary point but not a local extremum. The name derives from the fact that in two dimensions the surface resembles a saddle that curves up in one direction, and curves down in a different direction (like a horse saddle or a mountain pass)

"bathed his teeth in blood"- from Don Quixote

"birdbolt-->a short, blunt arrow

"Yes. I come back to the matter of narrative, to narrative as the path of mourning. One must know how to tell one’s own story as seen by others. That is to say, for me to let myself be narrated by the other. Not only for me to narrate myself otherwise (one can always do that, arrange and gather the elements in another fashion), but to agree to let mimesis be produced by the other. That is diﬃcult"- Paul Ricouer

wing quills

2011-01-29T22:21:00.000-08:00

nest:

her pear-shaped pouch of leaves, creepers, stems &c

branches over ravines or feverishly on power
lines spanning nullahs

they counted every tree & every milestone

figures of purchase, damp smoke & bus rides

masked sunlight & synchronicity, stutter stones

clung to the side of the road, the cliff

a process reversible so far
as its first note is also the highest

the moon burring in the oolong dusk

streaming, the warp & woof

clouds

drifting north

replacements

2011-01-29T11:45:00.000-08:00

spring-thick, bunched up & gelid, the breeze

from the flatlands, culverts, grass clumps, or bushes

teased out the wallpaper, windows facing the sun

slung over a hard shoulder, bricks crumbling between toes,

“The brain conies gushing through the ghastly wound”

sent back a gnawing hunch, the rods & cones

by the book, speech bubbles for Artaud, “the skin rises in blisters

like air under the surface of lava”

going back on a flourish, the hills

neatly stacked up, grey smoke

in place of trees, cheap accommodation

leaves, women & waxed paper, students

pressed between rough benches

& thin voices

sky glow

2011-01-29T08:31:00.000-08:00

white below with the dusky breast & a few dark streaks

on the foreneck, no wing-bar, but all the same, reaching

nails get across, thawing at the rising red edge

meeting skinflints halfway & the stiffer lip, the chin sunk

sun coming up over Tethys, interlocked landmasses, an end

to crowding, smoking out Apis coasts, a siphoned current

cutting corners, vanished stars heating up the jellied waters, raised to the lips

ear-coverts buffish, pupils pinned back, spiritual & meander-foraging

the long arms slender & flexible, while the instincts grow

broad & delirious-stiff pranksters

“the stripping of the extended gas reservoir of satellite galaxies

predominantly occurs via tidal forces rather than ram-pressure.”

gravitas. flexes to sting

low-grade drumming beneath the white of the eye

filtering

2011-01-25T02:34:00.000-08:00

the solution to pollution is still dilution --is a regular reassurance
given the recto &verso pulled off--a change in address, repeated
universal usage: randomization-- shuttling into one corridor
traipses from the beginning--foliate motifs slowly filtered
no-quarter moss & the waterside made as if to iffy the scene
of the crime--cut losses to which one consents & the answer
--a confident assurance, akin to testimony-- a two-ribbon flare
hunkering down-- where the gift &what it slowly read into itself

growth factors &brims
so its eyes watered, just--my nature took precedence
--denoted absence making a list of the losses

this analogy hands over the tides to that moon

&an atmosphere in-spiraling high sun angles, the cheek
of being called off then repairing—laughs ‘Piling-up node upon node,
ever the primitive form’