09 April 2011

untitled, or isacoustic bias

the 11th week, etc.  here're some pomes to peruse:






...the title of this pome is TREIBHIREAS BUNAITEACHD








what this pome needs is more accordion


                & martinis--



( OMG her décolletage is getting strangled by tulips )



        & i am in an airport




bathsheba's at the airport bar drinking scotch


                talking abt child stars w/ drug problems




w/ frightening implications, i'm thinking


                "girls with broken hearts," or


        sunlight & summertime...




but really, conceptual elegance, 


                                sensuousness, 


                and unashamed lust--




( merci, mademoiselle )


                "no, i  don't need help"


        the terminals swoon




what this accordion needs is a bird cage in a telephone booth




                        the illustrations, framed


                in helvetica light


                                & frustration




the rough drafts, often allow, careful observations




                        "b/c i saw her first 


        but you will probably 


                fuck her first, prick"




        ( have you ever had sex w/ a squeeze box? )




bathsheba's now discussing 


        one-night stands, deliverance




                how churchy, ennui-ish


        the turbulent materiel 


                        of becoming complaisant




the evening becoming a victim 


                of fluorescent light


        & portraits of promises in the intimacy


                        of tomorrow


even if such hearkening accelerates the aberrant milieu




* * *





ppl. i want to teach me how to dougie




1. bob fosse
2. zelda fitzgerald
3. danny reyes
4. twyla tharp
5. michael stipe






ppl. i want to fuck w/ my dougie




1. rita moreno
2. the nicholas brothers
3. dorothy parker
4. optimus prime
5. karen lustgarten




* * *


overhead projector w/ sutured images flitting by like butterflies


an armchair in a bruise of weeds
botanical sleight
a rainbow slashed into plaster, a fire axe
through a piano
rotary phones on a steel gurney
ruptured typewriter 
w/ broom, the weather & rampant greenery
against a storm 
of clinical reports, valised
on an ironing board
an old victrola, sufficiently inured 
to tragedy
w/ cardboard sleeves, filed
to the floorboards
chandeliers tangled on a banister, fraught
in a forest of f-stops
wrung through
the erasure between the semiotic
& the real
consigned to history, correspondingly
fire extinguishers 
in a padded room, long hallways screened
through & through 
w/ distance, a clock stopped in moira
often it seems

every roll of film is a mortuary table


* * *


thx. for ogling my wonderful body
of work -- until
next week, arrivederci...

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