27 October 2010

crossed by prayers and luminous dust

s/weep,




these nights i imagine i am a medicine
circles hugging*
summer whales like moths, how myopic
no flowers
limousines evening'ing through my bloodstream
wolves regiment
into dust, & i collapse, again...
looking 
out the window, this weather** is proprietous
there isn't much fire
de kooning, inexplicably shotgun'd
thru suddenly--
my pome starts apologizing
because i am indulgent, & vases of flowers
allow heart*** murmurs...
it's 10 p.m. or so, & the moon is one long explanation
a sorry excuse for an exit
but...how i like to think of moonlight
as a steamroller
a poignant edition of extraordinary rendition--
...wait,
candle wax ghosts,
bees jazz through burning decks of haiku****
i want to look over it again 
in that light
a different light, unadulterated 
by a monday
or a separation***** for all the gloominess 
that that may imply...
b/c these nights i am unconcerned w/ october
december or june--
eventually, the heart yells reconciliation
but yr not there
emotion is always a phone call away
yet contemplation******




*humming
**however
***hazmat
****heliogravure
*****howitzer
******holy ghosts...









- - - - - -



roof deck on fire (the gravity of torsion...)






you know i love you 
when you are car-bombing botanical gardens
INDELIBLE
barbwire endures poignantly
ubiquitous
brutal honesty is truth
pictures and still photographs w/ old narration


hospitals and insurance, steinway pianos, 
knight-ridder newspapers


while throughout the country 
w/ stylish
respect...a lonely ghost operas the wrong 
SYMPTOMS
to destroy symbols; the ink-like 
violence 
of bereavement--


fierce beauty, one mint julep & a trombone solo
no...actually




Lata Mangeshkar's “Thoda Resha Lagta Hai”





- - - - - - - - - 

these other desiderata (a necessary opera of neutrality)



vacuum cleaner discontinued military service medals
frigate bird noise curb
, perforated
incongruous & vulnerable
holy fuck shambolic precision paintbrush daffodils
she just stood there
malevolent
shadowed by chandeliers, erotic
it was 1995, or
it was 2010
tall trees line-structure blood philosophy
the only trouble is, it doesn't make the protagonist 
vernissaged -- irascible
i am certain
i am not foolish in the depths of my feelings
this is interesting
heart failure parking meter beaker
it spills everything
evan sd something abt two hitlers & i thought
icky boyfriends
to answer the second question
i'm christmas' frustration w/ the paper industry
softly devastating
admirably red sparrow pcp photosynthesis
ezra & t.s. at st. elizabeth's
terrifying
often, white lightning decoupage
solemn
she ordered me to kiss her
it's positively interesting, despite all of this
maybe b/c of it...
ostensibly, always a threat
like cheating on my girlfriend w/ a rearview mirror
beholden

- - - - - - - - -  

waiting for anna







if anna sais i'm wounded, then i'm wounded

- - - - - 



untitled


squawking trombone
tupperware for example, classical music
imprecision
slow songs for the primal set
crumpled vignette
Deirdre & I are drinking Moët et Chandon from a Dixie cup
intimate, unique
our sex life is(n't) purely intellectual
if nothing else
the way she makes me feel when she holds me
needs a technical manual
a patch of flowers
arc-welded to the wet woods outside her window
the pulse of her hem
late-night AM radio violin police commissioner dissonance
windchimes, albeit
definitive effortlessness for the adoration
our old-timey romance
wonderfully off-kilter w/ mindful discrepancies
genuine hearts
will always insist happiness through
shifting moods
we spent the rest of our money on a champagne tincture
watching, softly
the moon slowly convulse upwards
intensely seductive
we put on our own lamp post clinic, realizing
there is nothing 
like falling asleep in each others arms 



this pome is for an older audience preoccupied 
by life’s twilight...

- - - - - - 





















there is a snowy egret in the opera house of my heart; my heart is a rural alaskan village











27 october 2010, 4:12 a.m.


17 October 2010

"the extraordinary irradiance of her grace"

found this in an old notebook, circa may 2009:


i remember the first time i saw her naked, how inarticulate i felt, like eros was shoving trapezoids down my throat.  i remember the sudden quieting of "the bridge of sighs" i imagined installed in my heart.  i remember a couple of months ago quickly turning my face so she wdn't notice me staring at her. 

12 October 2010

poem for xcv




[poem has been redacted]

03 October 2010

wreaking epic sonnet rebellion

i took time off from writing love pomes to a certain special someone to share this epic sonnet.  it's been two weeks in the making.  here is:



every two weeks, a sonnet



divorce keeps mom out of dad's obituary
making baby set an heirloom takes thought
man needs tips on talking to female peers
readers advise moms upset by stares at son
love in a a war zone likely to be more intense
ask boyfriend why he's avoiding kissing
dog left home alone worries loving owners
it's important to get your flu shots now
walk down the aisle fraught with family strife
man must sort out feelings before marriage

torn between goddaughter's sparring parents
binge-drinking roommate needs help
friendship prolongs pain for ex-girlfriend
discuss feelings on organ donation with family







how episodic.

26 September 2010

finding stasis in deep depression

summer with a broken mannequin arm / cross-sections of diseased hearts



let's help
we need a stretcher: according to biography
simply, w/ laconic
technicolor; how moody the passion
drums & saxophones
explode over a slide guitar riff
as seagulls collide
defiantly
this is where he took to calling his heart
the chelsea piers...

after all this positivity we need
tea plants,
gasoline & the soothing grey consolation
of a lee friedlander

*

a warm forest floor in the fever of rerouted
perspectives—
his griefs were a semaphore's
landscape...
rurally sad subourbon whiskey; there's a cleverness to
a yardstick in a corner:
a perdured prescription for lorazepam
or a pretty brunette
in brooklyn dancing under a sleepy chandelier;
basal anesthetics

often compelling mosaics
when my fever was the objective correlative of her love for me
"no one is answering their phone"

24 September 2010

galvanic


 
 in two years i will kneel and ask her to marry me


press rewind, crawl into her arms
every touch
is a photo-op for the heart
contracting
these words pump the blood that stutters
my heart
a frightened rabbit
caught in the spiral of a notebook
here is here
the plural fires of want
of longing
the rough draft footage of my diary
disclosed
strewn across her bed
i mean, this is something i had to do
my chest
jet-lagged w/ the suppression
of weeks
my pride long since
punctured
the raw reactions of romance amidst
the prettily
evocative warm hearts...
the undertones
of love slumber blood to a bridge
northeast
a camera from where she's coming from
wires silver red ribbons
this train
is only a temporary residence
her arms
will always be home

17 September 2010

a möbius strip called desire

an afternoon at her shoulder




bird chirp
canvas shoe & more than a feeling
orange tree, subdued
in nature
water upon her clavicle
the troubling promises of an impression
a premise
certainly subscribed to
[an afternoon spent w/ yr head on her shoulder]
a tascam of gin
the elegant upsweep of introspection
the nuances of a moment
spent w/ her


i want her to sing me a love song

crouched w/in the creases of collect calls

motorcycle boots and silver flutes
$606.17 in 1989


drunken hummingbird 
w/ compulsiv  retrograde amnesia (poetry)
busman’s holiday 
mixing quaaludes and scotch before talking a walk 
in the rain; 
the parameters, imbued...
in part
crocheted caribou casuistries
a gritty omniscience
cl
trp
trb
bjp
tba
dr
my warehouse eyes, & sauve-qui-peut pencilry
(ad rem incidences)
a 6x9" Tumbler Bound Steno Notebook w/ chemistry
helium balloons, robitussin 
& french films...
along with some geraniums that squeak!
often subversive
when dreary
(a whale watching tour rescheduled
for a blimp,) sunsets 
a-framed 
to an unfolding evening...
somewhere along the way i stopt sleeping altogether
dashboard tension
everything is a thorough disorder...
unfought 
“’Dear,’ but nothing else. 
Perhaps”
Ytre Suløens Jass-Ensemble; robotic plants that
actually grow
(intangible surreality)
since, often, commentary is the new identity
your own atypical field study:
scrabble board; walk, & whether, either pre-evening
collapse, or electricity
my grrlfriend's brother invented a dragon

16 September 2010

i miss looking in her eyes

honeybees, occasionally
slip
from her lips

11 September 2010

pomes to read while riding yr bicycle


4 misunderstandings (for a sunday afternoon)






: as it were, love stories


: the glamourous friends of my wife


: i am in a state


: my blue life of leisure

















...












The "typewriter girl" became part of the iconography of the early-20th-century office.





...







orchestration



subversive heart tense
gloriously
lecherous -- evocative intrigue
brushstroke tension

abstruse salaciousness













...








Elliott Gould 
says 
he does not 
tire 
of discussing 
Robert Altman's 
"M*A*S*H"





...









orange butterflies



...crestfallen w/ piano insubordination

a synaesthetic light
encircled through the fallen leaves of the ruin
of morning
w/in the trad. of categorical eloquence

G Street

wwi. (in theory)
avant-garde forensics narrative
yr lover's sudden
parachute

the bucolic splendour of her heart

lulling undertow
the prescription-white fire of a mirror
perhaps, a kiss
summer's intentions were...

25 August 2010

hospital dramas are dramatic



my wife is a ghost



i am interpreting train schedules and heartbreak; words don't come easy when you ensconce yourself in a hurricane lamp.  light is an ocean breeze that shipwrecks on august's heat.  i have a pink flamingo harbored in my shoulder bag.

i am reading harry mathews' "the journalist."

i wish i had a bottle of scotch on this irresolute train ride.  the insubordination of my heart whispers aneurysms.  i feel lonesome.  i wish i knew what the person next to me is reading, but i can't tell because the glare of the sun through the plastic window is turning his kindle into a lake of fire.

i can't tell if i am happy or sad about this.

everyone said the weeks would pass, and instruction would show from the rough narrative.  what if the most obvious things haven't been said yet?

this afternoon was a painting; what does that mean?  i wore a sparrow as a necktie and punched a fleur-de-lis in the face.  california is bad whisky and keith waldrop is in my shoulder bag with the flamingo inventing a christmas tree and glitzy fireworks.  i have a secret i want to scream.

"capsize" is my favorite verb as of late.

if yr lover's heart is an antique map, what do you do if you sense inarticulate rhododendrons wielding a matchbook?  i feel the sense of heat working counterintelligence.  i keep thinking june was a curious fire.

emotionally, the afternoon was a redefinition of concealed lust:



heart boots
"eftsoons, my dearest kayla"
plaintively
the febrile milieu:
rarely
has that walk been so lonely
ardent/vivid
light
scattered at the stairs...



intelligence only widens as far as perspective.  there is a rhinoceros on this train.  my seat-mate straightens his raincoat as i tell him "godspeed," as we stumble into the white light of late august.

08 August 2010

i later conducted an escape using the typewriter's carriage return

hiding from yr friends all summer is the new DIY scene.  here are some pomes from that scene.










the harrows of being bored at heart



` 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 - =
q w e r t y u i o p [ ] \
a s d f g h j k l ; '
z x c v b n m , . /


distorted Beach Boys records, bpNichol pomes;
the amplifier damage
of an old leica IIIc, 1951

coup de foudre moustaches w/out quotes...


a list of things i want:

: "© 1968 by Aram Saroyan" on Lita Hornick's
    Kulchur Press
: tugboat cuff links
: a 1940s Beau Brummell, Zierolfs necktie
: another drink
: a ghettoblaster from the 80s
: "The Yeh-Yeh Girl From Paris!" by Francoise Hardy
    (original LP pressing w/ FH
    holding an umbrella)
: a complete set of the New Yorker issues containing
    Donald Barthelme's stories


the memories are frequently
obscured
by the damaged production

set these in the medical records of
nostalgia...
todd sais, "i have noticed
an assemblage
of collapse through--"

inarticulateness: her amour-propre, my elusiveness

or sympathy indicates a clumsy
fascination w/
reckless abandon on salvation army-bought stationery
in the early-morning sun w/

strangulated woodwinds; champagne & quaaludes


let's introduce a curious list:

: ursuline nuns
: moulin rouge acrobats of the 1920s or 60s
: soviet ballerinas
: b-film monsters
: cheerleaders of the 1970s
: sarnoff clowns
: belle époque doctors
: fetish nurses
: catholic schoolgirls of the 1950s


picked up by a passing tugboat & taken to a hospital
severely injured
but according to kierkegaard,

when a truth was apparent to an individual,
that was the truth
regardless of evidence to the contrary.


[also, i was a little girl and seduction
was threatening.]




trading lassitude for longitude



thursday
yowling sweater nihilism
seagulls
for what it's worth, it's impeccable — abrupt
l a n g u i d
etc., how insufferable
this is also
a baltimore oriole flinching across the night
w/ a cynical clientele
how poignant
let's write an atlas; indulge
in the loneliness
of influence...
the unceasing inscrutability of
anniversary bourbon
a tumult
of quietly violent clarity; and therein lies
our singular health
tweezers
as such, the odd country
adultery
w/ a bassoon, but not quite as reverent
in as much as
anything so funeral can be
a grosbeak
simply adroit w/ its landslide acceleration
the gorgeous
torrent of frequency modulation
as it storms
w/in the chambers of a heart...
pensive, albeit
the melancholy of wires w/ such poise and every
so often, enough
when your heartstrings start
to brook








steyr chirps, strung-out afternoons, dada tambourines
[such incongruous title!]



auteur rN
ballroom dancing w/ tequila sunrise
[Beauty is Unstable]
a business envelope of booze
bullets
on a calendar girl's nightstand
boat club coats
w/ liquid codeine phials in the ticket pocket
[such cravat drama!]
the frontispiece harbours
['S Gravenhage]
an heiress in a cucumber-green chemise
hobby-horse jesuitism
knife fights
w/ a lantern & mannequin lungs
magnolias [bloom]
medicine parachutes = amylbarbitone polaroids
[aleatoric]
the radius of savoir-vivre—
"the shackles!"
she sais, unholstering an Editorial from her custom-made
c. rusty sherrick holster
Smithsonian
solecism w/ thought experiments
like TVs
thrown over the balcony [such contretemps!]
the world is a miniature
spiral staircase
through the valley of the shadow of death
a volcano whispers
the eyewitnesses sit around
and listen
unimaginatively to the worst LP Wings
ever recorded




a mockingbird w/ a stochastic frame of reference



gospel & tweed coats
fake christmas trees; that's totally boots!
ridiculously abstruse
a sunny tarmac
in the heart; the Kowloon Walled City
of a heart...

art, contrary; if i cdn't decide
chaotic
evocative, & potentially
egress'd, etc.
a rainy spring afternoon w/ limoncello
(noir umbrellas)

jumpin' judas iscariot!,
it's soviet sleeper agents, bleak victorian landscapes;
a 1947 RKO B picture
repeatedly yawns like a distant lion
as lines
disrupt planes of dedication

descriptions evoke
back issues of TIME on a sunday; gray, blue & pink
beautifully bleak
often RARE AND COMMONPLACE FLOWERS
“American Splendor”
we fell in love among the clattering machinery

of a park w/ leafy trees
fenced-off
w/ rusted razor wire...broadsheet newspapers;
xeroxes of
“Demoiselles d’Avignon”
perhaps







that is all.



23 May 2010

ontology published your face

two new pomes:






  "You're Gonna Miss
Elevators


  math intricacy (intimacy)
upstairs
an upright bass or
violin
only to eventually admit
  vulnerability
the clamoring redivivus
(romance)
  That being sd, ferocious
tranquility
amped-up Emotions
hyperbolic
promises; rainy days
and you
  i always find this soothing
helium balloons
at the top
of a spiral staircase








telephone shoals


cobblestone gunshot, grandfather scotch; then as snow:
punctured electrical...
flower & flourish.  mistakes were prob.
constructed thru rectangles
all along; dirigible distraction, list languish--

hemisphere traffic collage,
sin föhn soliloquy whisky; fern monologue individuality
w/ an afterwords of
preliminary shearing as imputed triangles
arc & text--

constellation quartets: birdcage marimba,
pink porchlight,
surface buoys glance arbitrary,
solemn poinsettia stab wound tulips pulverized into dust







"i am not myself," he sais, cradling shade dripping
from a surceased palm tree...

04 May 2010

http://vignettefictions.blogspot.com/

geranium rail / cold winter sun / uncorroborated reflections
(1148 Ward Place, Revisited)


image procedurals:

sitting back in this room staring at the times square
where my typewriter shd be

yarn & glue

the operation was a piece of art
but the pome died

le foto proibite di una signora per bene

        my new favourite weapon: a quiet evening w/
        wood & graphite
        the potential is such that

        i've taken to exoticizing
        my typewriter
        as a Romantic, or a post-Romantic;
        a deconstructionist

the love of life orchestra
on a sortie thru
"beginning of the heartbreak / don't, don't"

hauntingly poignant vignettes
[nebraska in winter]
now that i have found you

        List N°1:

        major cities in India
        include mumbai, new delhi, bangalore, kolkota,
        & chennai...

the headlights of a taxi in snowy weather

paperback wallpaper —
trains
are cathedrals on wheels;

sad, florid piano laments
yves tanguy syntax w/ ann demeulemeester
sweater prints

        then, after that, you have to adjust each flower.
        It's sensibly Brutal.

a wwii spyglass in [their] shoulder holster.  perhaps
serendipity is asserting
itself through surplus surrealism...

        [ how come no one told me
          the angels'
          boyfriend came back? ]

effusive romanticism
a u-2 spy plane harboured in heart

mise en abyme

my typewriter is a love poet
in exile

        oskar kokoschka, bride of the wind, oil on canvas, a
        self-Portrait expressing his unrequited love for alma
        mahler, widow of composer gustav mahler, 1913

        and

         (I'm trying to think)

        hans schleger, in the blackout — before you alight make
        sure the train is in the station.  Look for platform

back porch sunsets
w/ an ugly duckling

when a bird sings, the -self dismantles
under the canopy
of rickety, underprivileged yellow light

        List N°2:

        trees found around N 45° 56' 33.20" W 92° 36' 39.49"
        birch, maple, oak, aspen & basswood

        structurally chaotic
        a greige & white abstraction conjuring
        landscapes...

a philistine's philistine historicizing reticence

the policed distortions
of realization
typewriter ribbon as rosary

        while dying, gertrude stein was asked,
        "what's the answer
        to it all?"  She looked up and sd, "What's the question?"

learn more abt self-regard and related topics at
britannica.com


                written february-march 2010 / typed may 1, 2010