Thursday, February 11, 2016

We should care, proverbially. And no. No use.

There are arguments out there, a few bitch comedies. Sick

Once in our republic of collaboration
we leaning were democrats.. then we left,

Bye. I’ll butt dial you
egressing, achieving little with any argument intact,
noting mortality in our measure
— to section itches and engagements
— go over, mix more with the census,
eco majors, it’s called an America you worship.

We’ve fallen in line.

But I am confused,
claimant of the photogenic vitamin to stop bleeding
is not a sentence, lacking, useless settling in
meaning in a way — a rain and raincoat of moods, one’s thank you for pastimes
as warm-bodied as visually queuing up for everything.

So you get it now, assigning you to us to go cathartic
is no yes vending graft about dualism
with hand and finger gestures where we get caught chatting.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

For all appearances nothing lurid was due at signing. Default

Swaps in reconnaissance are at the barricades.

Bandits 1st.

You translators are a close 2nd.

You appear ok. This was about something else.

Trolls at the barricades have been taking icky notes where the weather cooperates,

Where reputations precede character, tact of apprehension remains.

Who will advocate for peace for the tranquil to empower the mergers & exchange?

For example.

Tuesday, February 09, 2016

0) nothing horrible, just horrible

1) both perceptions of opposites leveraged simultaneously

2) meaning not one and more original than none

3) causing internal illogic along w/

4) passing out on a black wood chaise to bring you back shouting

5) I love your idea but I repent to appease you

6) the adage first thought or never think never loses its death and life

What if there’s a non-theist way to prepare, provide? & what
if we’re both wrong but less wrong than who?

Let’s keep right, left far from fashion’s simplicity, & let’s
live together at night while we demodify

functions that describe preferences extemporaneously; 1st

we’ll fill a lull in motives. There’s inter-force rondure (Eric Dolphy)
as technicians put themselves into canons amid conflated reminiscences,
your honor, after mnemonics took shelter in convenience stores.

(Theseus, below, had raced thru the subway, filled w/ youthful mores.
Asinine language — you can’t call it dialog.) Above, ugly apartments.

Life-draining clothes. Absolute, highly recommended foment.

Yet the jungle is quiet... too quiet. (Theseus’s ex)

Monday, February 08, 2016

Creature masks are prerequisites, in reprieve at the School of Nobody ;

Teaching can’t be taught. You live within practice
To engage another’s psyche

you’re always wrong to prolong your appeal.

In a way it just feels like games. Too many credits ..
More pre-cognition than a poem, Bunny

We’re good with “no real choice.”
— one still has pretty good yoga probabilities
Even with nobodies (like us) and ticket holders of dusk
And young wrestlers who portray border patrol..

Sunday, February 07, 2016

A morning crew, those weathermen
Waving arms over their heads in similar patterns —
This is their 1st stab at tantrics

Boiling sanguine, mad going thru a woman’s pinafore of latitudes, so let them.

They plan on writing love letters by hand
Disguised as glare in coastal space.

Perfect, she doesn’t judge, doesn’t see they’re drawing from other traces,
No matter.

Saturday, February 06, 2016

Without counsel, full consent is a slog mating a slow burn.

You trust yourself by age 600 satisfied
Euclidean space holds the blueprints to make your home efficient.

That was before you were reborn or invented.

Recursions set in. You had no modesty issues.
You have none now, none detected, and fewer and fewer policy goals.

You change your shirt, put your weight behind a sketch (a study)
As there is no theory there isn’t theory
— it’s galvanized torture which escalates utterly

Formalities documented in the eye, so fine counter-stretched, kept on balance / in suspense —

Friday, February 05, 2016

A language tax break is inherited. In this regard sex is peroration.

[As soon as skeptics step o / -ver trays] They paste in genetic material.
[Is soon the word? [We don’t know what we’re not saying..

they seem mostly normal, feasible wanting nothing, just more trays, neighbors
or more going & coming around them, bereft of their own desires & systems.

Learning, teaching formulae like sea boomerangs] latticed on] It ends our economy, takes us
inside [ the parturifacient facility: We’re not demanding savings where life go- /
es shh. (Smelling pablum, staff set the power to prevent further questions.)

We’re devotees of labor
cut to impel comfort to a textual decimal of the property. ]
This may be why we’ll make notes before tomorrow

& let you know when.

Thursday, February 04, 2016

What’s my business? Aperture systems led me to holding

Volatility models from tv, vocalism in a sense.

Hidden risks shift weight (merge accounts request).

CVS photo counter. I know him, he knows me, I admire him, he back.

Instructions are errands; I’m my own boss.


Flames stink up the place. Hay on fire. Let’s dump all this way in the rearview, leaving footholds in town, doubles of blurs in dizzy luxury, punching thru colorless straws and spheres.

Hay savors just punishment as regulatory propriety could and does care less, looking to nominal trivia thru guilt to found paradox — exactly what we reject or recoil from, summoning logical defenses to explain a Hail Mary.

O Mary, our neighbors are inflamed imbibers of the heterodox polemicist’s code.
Silly, wily, superficially yours, we have other ideas.

Wednesday, February 03, 2016

Ruth Lepson
ask anyone
Pressed Wafer 2016

There are ways to paint, it’s said, while attending to other things, other senses, for example, listening carefully to sax improvisation, feeling thirsty.

If you keep mixing enthusiasms you’ll be taking from one medium, giving to another as well as yourself — this sensual, sensible give-and-take seems the core of Ruth Lepson’s ask anyone, a 55-page libretto of short poems. Seeing painting, teaching, writing, performing in this manner lets Ruth make her points with sweeping economy of means and argument. The poem “knowledge in black” visualizes a pun, “switchmen... questions / are green” sleeping “stationery things.” Or:

I’m peeling carrots and I
almost start crying
    isn’t that funny

I was thinking

A few of us think about music, painting or poetry and we’re done with it. I’m glad Ruth thinks on the page to count out vernacular carrots and — I’m going to say — the metaphysical:

...until that time
you’re swimming in the ocean when time becomes
space you no longer swim     as a body

are we done

Finally, I say I’m glad because even the ‘done’ question is left in a green state. The writing here is provocative, agnostic, uncloying, like a good amount of the music she hears and contributes to at the New England Conservatory. Eg., at you can download terrific recordings of Ruth reading these poems with music written for her texts, performed by Box Lunch — hence ask anyone, libretto and more!

Sonnet: It’s irreparable.

But it’s in the repair shop because

It is the repair shop.

I’ll do what I can. Another day, slim odds. Almost the same as hopeless;

Different jokes turn over in sleep,
I .. Hey

.. I talk in a low register to get inside my face. My brow sports layers of sleep
relief, aching in baby, cutely accruing intimacy to belie despair over zero gravity.
So there’s no dead end!

It’s affordable Noh. That’s us with big hanging wolf eyes.
What goes around then comes gasping, the more irregular the breathing —
looks like he’s breathing! A spoon worm lives inside the womb,
a male redback dives inside the reproductive tract!
Into his mates’ fangs just to get eaten while copulating!

Tuesday, February 02, 2016

Welcome to we’re not friends; one’s a strategic partner \

Classification and career by evolutionary collisions =
One’s work multiplied by adapted preferences, vapor.

I think I love you all-purpose, all calm, never resolved,
Because we’re only one muppet and one marine

In a climate of drumming opinions and best practices —
Our bacchanalia talked up on the spot while it’s slotted in —

Getting tattooed is an addiction to visceral consequence,
Reigning over Proustian project boards, cost curves, etc.

The rescue party experiments with informality, expressive meta
Interaction alloys of function routing.

Terms are, go settle down through the evening and finish your agenda.
Perhaps heartbeats get covered by a shroud that frays,
Un-spools to gain advantage spreading the plan.