12 March 2011

auteur nihilism ~ exigent existential -isms

oh, here's to you week # 7,

sha na na, what's her name?

"Then we heard / Shouting that tore out
the light."

--Frank Stanford

the visual indifference of
"I don't think less is more.  More is better."
a wire walk
through elusive poignancy w/ welding 
mask anonymity...
an arctic palm tree, consolidated through
a telegraph of ivories--
decadent flowers under fluorescent light:
te deum, indeed,
an edge-of-the-lawn slow jam, for double bass & trombone;
o', aesthetic languor...
a wobbly aerial w/ balloons, kazoos, & bubbles
the wuthering heights
of talking 
to pretty grrls on the telephone--
but here, i want you 
to think of a 03.09.1983 single by madonna, as if 
birds are similar 
to thunderstorms, & lullabies...
baroque in sensibility--
as if some sense of hellish rhetoric 
wd invite you to 


playing flute w/ the barrage of images shuddering past
my train's window seat

(“based upon limited information 
or malicious falsifications.”)

grizzly bears & rain drops & all that
[90 proof] jazz--
consider, specifically, "oh!  good goddamn,
scott pilgrim"
hi-fi tic tacs, or amy hempel
the colour of the ocean, today, as we 
pastel away
to warmer weather & consumptive
aeries (asthmatic)
i cdn't cling to a heart
hoisting up the rare-book roofbeam storm front
fashion show i love you
stars & stripes, track & field forever--
in springtime
then the trajectory of a passing train's 
...heirloom tomatoes?
hello, elizabeth
through a hurried afternoon i didn't look back
how retro
the woodwind guillotine
or all those days spent w/ letters
as the balcony
goes unheard, to whomever--
"to whoever set my truck on fire," photocopied 
octnov 2010
through the hum of vintage
caution tape
the ferocious flashlights, calendared 
at the harmonies
bridesmaid antidepressants
i yowl'd
"fuck you!  trombones 
& youth choirs" & straightforward

then things got impertinent

untitled, or dead reckoning w/in the edges of a page

i hate being the slowest guy in the lab
or a psychologist
haunted by office plants...
b/c there's
so much exhilaration to ruminate upon—
how complex, yeah...
“how come the waiting room is crying?”
else, instead: 
the sophisticated have a proclivity
an affinity
for emotionally complex 
shades of lines
or other, more difficult impulses—

but i'm leaning more toward the amourous
these days, languorously 
pretty, summeresque; taking on allure 
w/ trauermärsche
& an erlenmeyer flask of single malt islay scotch...
mostly unrepentant
all winter, then the spring finding solace
on a love seat, alone again
or the story is filled w/ speculation & intrigue!
still, in situ, floundering
for distinction in the mfa since 2008,
what's worse, the nouns
the connotations of such strident symbols

pink plagiarism 
(come to our fête, and show again that pea-green coat, thou pink of men!)

why, i am the very pinke of curtesie.
pinke for flower?

its embossed covers, with a lurid 
palette of purples, pinks 
and oranges and a bold use of foil

for to perfume 
her rare perfection with some sweet-smelling 
pinck epitheton

a few in regimental pinks 
with ribbons 
on their chests, had joined their wives and 
were being told of the event

quite respectable, 
i just talk and give them whisky, no touchy-feely, 
no pink salon-type of behaviour

up before the lazy slut aurora 
has put on her
pink to captivate the ploughboys

definitive result of which he had read 
in the evening telegraph, late pink edition

‘eeyore’ smith absent-mindedly added 
a dash of ‘pink’ 
to his evening aperitif

therefore, in japan, softcore pornographic 
films are called pink movies

southern wild flowers & trees, large marsh
pink, flourishes
near the coast and from july
until september
unfolds its most beautiful flowers

from the frilled edge 
of the flowers
— the verb 

he said i was as fresh as a violet, and as fair as jessamy, 
and as sweet as a pink

how was i?  pretty much in the pink... 
my cardiovascular 
system...seems in good shape

again, thx. for reading.  it is 11.53 p.m. & i am going to finish "golf cleats near a fallen tree by the aircraft carrier on the back nine."  alas & alack & stuff until next week...


1 comment:

ExcellentSamAdamsHorse said...

I'm pretty sure I've used "fuck you! trombones & youth choirs" a few times in my life... and I played trombone!