mRjonesrEview

2011-12-23T07:22:00.000-08:00

Check out issue 7 of Blue & Yellow Dog

It is chock full of great poems, including work by:
Anton Frost, David Woodruff, harry k stammer, Michael O'Brien, Corey Mesler, Lee Marc Stein, Peter Ganick, Carl Grindley, Walter Ruhlmann, Cortney Bledsoe, Tyson Bley, Ben Nardolilli, Valentina Cano, Matthew B. Dexter, Larry O. Dean, Neil Ellman, Les Wicks, Randy Brooks, Michael Lee Johnson, Howie Good, Evan Carr, John Pursch, & John McKernan.

I am very happy and proud of the issue.

I am always reading, there is no "reading period".

Just submit yr work as a single Word doc or rtf or PDF email attachment and send it to me atwarholaray1@embarqmail.com

I will be glad to take a gander at it

For those of you interested in buying hard copies of back issues of B&YDog
Visit the B&YDog Book Shop, I have discounted the prices

Hope you all have a safe and wonderful xmas season.

Samples from There Is Something Missing in the Whole Transaction between Us

2011-10-25T11:28:00.000-07:00

from: There Is Something Missing in the Whole Transaction between Us

The sales pitch

of thunderous manias

begs one more text

be read

askew

the likes of which

is market day.

"YOU'VE ALMOST CONVINCED ME.

TELL ME MORE ABOUT THIS CITY(I. E. FOOT OF THE CLIFF.)

ARE THERE LOVERS?

EXISTENCE IS MY SUBJECT IS HOLLOW."

In the cause of tireless waltzers

there are no things but things that are named.

I call this “photograph”

& this “sheik”

& this “cabal.”

In view of: The History of Chinese Art…after Two Minutes

in the Washing Machine, 1987,

books, wooden box,

and glass

(now destroyed),

I protested

& became sexual.

"YES.YES.BUT I NEED TO KNOW YOUR MOVIE PLOTS

ARE MORE THAN JUST SCRIPTED. I WANT A NORMAL

LIFE IN VAIN OR IN TEXAS NEAR OK BORDER. BUT

DON’T SAY IT WRITE IT ON PAPER FOR GOD SAKE.

DAFFY DUCK IS IN A POEM AND I THINK IT’S GREAT

HE’S GETTING SUCH FLUENT EXPOSURE. HOW DOES

THIS EFFECT MY CASE IN TEMPO IF YOU ARE NOT

A PAGE A WILD SWAN AT COOLE THE SORROW

OF LOVE THE PITY OF LOVE?”

I squander verbatim

at heart a narrative or beautiful run-on sentence.

I lift up “conch” to my ear.

"DESCRIBE LIFTING CONCH TO YOUR EAR."

I hear the maestro

(meaning Key West / meaning circumstance)

& Oceana smooth & nude in six reluctant similar scarves.

"YES. THE EXCEPTIONS ARE BEAUTIFUL.

A PRELUDE TO A DELUGE INTERPRETS NOTHING

CONCLUSIVE. WRITING IS LIVING IN POETIC FORM

IS A TRAGIC LINE."

There Is Something Missing in the Whole Transaction between Us by Raymond Farr

2011-10-25T10:54:00.000-07:00

My latest collection of new poetry, There Is Something Missing in the Whole Transaction between Us (Blue & Yellow Dog Press 2011), is a product of paring down lines and stanzas into something akin to one-page, pseudo-minimalist, crack-pot-god-like portraits of what I imagine to be the essence of faces, personae, effectively honoring DaDa in all its surrealist, absurdist (yet chockfull of formalist notions gleaned from Language Poetry) postmodernist flux. The book's diction borders on hallucinatory while each poem's meaning resides in the experience of "experiencing" each poem. I think you'll like this one. Just click on the link above and check out some samples.

Sean Ulman's Review of ECSTATIC/.of facts in elimae

2011-10-01T05:34:00.000-07:00

Check out Sean Ulman's review of ECSTATIC/.of facts in the poetry journal phenom elimae. Sean Ulman does as good a job as any at dissembling the unraveling that is ECSTATIC/.of facts.

ECSTATIC/.of facts by Raymond Farr Is Now Available at Otoliths Books

2011-07-24T10:24:00.000-07:00

My latest book of poetry, ECSTATIC/.of facts, has just been published by Mark Young at Otoliths Books. I hope you will take time to review it. I think he has done a wonderful job with cover, printing, etc. Here is the link http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/ecstaticof-facts/16067593

In other news: I have a longish poem in REM No 2 which is out now and available for free on line. It may also be purchased as a print issue. The link is http://remmagazine.net/sieverts-issues/

& check out Cricket On Line Review: www.cricketonlinereview.com/vol7no1/

This Isn't History, It's an Episode

2011-05-25T10:53:00.000-07:00

My story is pretty simple—

Because I couldn’t finish a novel
My life begins

In a nation that does not exist yet

The icon & I weren’t personally close
Our family fled their orchards—

From medieval kabbalists
To 20th century refugees—

Our fury seems particularly apparent here

In a nation that does not exist yet

Where actors are hired to read scripts
& pretend
To be real people

My uncle told me—

This week’s parasha introduces a medium
For distinguishing truth
From falsehood—

That was my life

I was giving up
I was going back home

My uncle told me—

On the radio, things aren’t so simple

Leaving the icon to believe
One of two things—

A river was there
& it had two banks

Try Submitting to 'Pider, A New Poetry/Art Mag

2011-05-03T07:05:00.000-07:00

raymond,

me and a friend are propping up an online journal under the title of 'Pider, and I am hoping you may be able to somehow spread that tid-bit of information around to those who would be interested. we are looking for puncher's fists, lost infantries of troops, hungry sleep.

one may send submissions of text, art, .mp3's... to: Piderbits@gmail.com

what do ya think?

mj

Otoliths 21 Is Out

2011-05-01T04:33:00.000-07:00

After 5 productive years Otoliths is still getting the poetry job done. It is bigger & better than ever.

Visit http://the-otolith.blogspot.com

I have two poems in the issue and that would be a good place to start the reading:

http://the-otolith.blogspot.com/2011/03/raymond-farr-investigating-future-tense.html

Homage to Homage to the Imagination*

2011-04-30T04:54:00.000-07:00

One night I sailed off

So long Wynken, Blynken, & Nod

So long zoppa

Farewell [ ]

So long [ ]

The waters of no more pain
Are found within this

Or so cried the stars to
French poet Charles Baudelaire

A dream poem
From breakfast on

In fact an improved version of

A Dutch picture
Which [ ] read aloud

In fact a nod to Surrealism

The year 1869
The year 2007

& which zoppa quoted—

A delightful little
Episode
One night
Among my friends—

But don’t be fooled
This is a detail read aloud

It might be gloomy—

A lovely bedtime

A small sampling
Entitled simply

A good poem—

But oh how classically fun

To stop, pause, take a step
& salute the dream land

In this version
It walks parallel

Giving a nod
To Octavio Paz

* Source of text was a Google key word search of the phrase: “Nod poems.”

Indefinite Space Has Appeared on the Horizon

2011-04-30T04:44:00.000-07:00

The poems in Indefinite Space 2010/2011 Vol XIX are meticulously selected and ordered by editor Marcia Arrieta and the reader is taken along for the ride of his or her mental life. John C. Goodman, John M Bennett & Sheila E Murphy, Anne Gorrick, Felino Soriano, and Raymond Farr are just a few of the poets exhibited in this fine anthology. To purchase $7 a single issue or $12 per subscription for two issue, visit www.indefinitespace.net

Psychic Meatloaf #3 Is Published

2011-04-30T04:35:00.000-07:00

I am proud to say I have work published in issue #3 of Psychic Meatloaf.
It is an exciting publication and worth buying. Of course I am prejudice, having two poems included in the ranks of such poets as Rob Cook, Shane Allison, Felino Soriano, and David Tomaloff just to name a few of the terrific poets and artists whose vision gives Psychic Meatloaf its wonderful aura.

To view samples and purchase visit www.psychicmeatloaf.com

I Have a New Ebook Out from Chalk Editions: chainge

2011-04-05T09:24:00.001-07:00

My latest effort chainge is an ebook published by Chalk Editions
Visit the site.
There are many good books to be found there
& they're all free!
You can download, print, or just enjoy!

Blue & Yellow Dog Issue 4 Spring Is Up!

2011-03-26T12:23:00.000-07:00

The latest issue of Blue & Yellow Dog has surfaced close to shore.
Periscope up!

But that's not all...

The most curent print issue (which contains both issues 3 & 4)
will be available sometime in the next few days.

Just go to Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop at Blue & Yellow Dog web site.
There is a link on the page that takes you to all B&YDog books.

Hope you all are doing fine.

& as always submissions are welcome

Please submit as a single Word doc or PDF attachment to email
and send to

warholaray1@embarqmail.com

In the meantime have a great springtime!

Adam Fieled's Equations Is a Great Read

2011-02-07T09:31:00.000-08:00

A recession has hit America at such an angle that everything has been called into question. The thoughtlessness of fin de siecle America has been replaced by mistrust, envy, and defensiveness. In this atmosphere, new imperatives emerge: to sort out wheat from chaff, gold from dross, truth from fiction. These imperatives are enacted in solitude, as the poet takes a scalpel to the body of his experiences. Adam Fieled's Equations is a vivid manifestation of a new, scrupulous American consciousness. It is the effort of a poet to elevate the carnal with intellect, and to create a memorable chiasmus between them. The frigidity of post-modern verse is replaced by a new romanticism, that is not romantic. That is the central endeavor here, and it is performed with panache.

Adam Fieled is a poet, musician, and critic based in Philadelphia. His books include Opera Bufa, When You Bit..., Chimes, Apparition Poems, The White Album, Beams, Posit, Early Poems 1998-2005, Disturb the Universe: The Collected Essays of Adam Fieled, and Returns. His work has appeared in Jacket, PennSound, Poetry Salzburg Review, Blue & Yellow Dog, Tears in the Fence, The Argotist, Great Works, Miporadio, And/Or, Blazevox, and in the &Now Awards Anthology from Lake Forest College Press. Some of his poems are in the process of being translated into Italian, and his poems have been taught widely. A magna cum laude graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, he also holds an MFA from New England College and an MA from Temple University, where he teaches.

Equations
By Adam Fieled

ISBN-10-0982953534
ISBN-13-978-0-9829535-3-2

66 pages

$15.00

URL: http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/equations/14600597

2011

Blue & Yellow Dog Press

Raft 2 Now Available On Line: Listen To It

2011-01-19T09:53:00.000-08:00

Raft 2 is up at http://www.raftmagazineonline.com/Raft02/Raft02index.html
There are text versions of some great work on the site and sound files of authors reading their stuff. I have three poems you can peruse or lend an ear to there. My first attempt at recording my poetry and it worked out well. I will be recording and posting more sound files here and there on line. Look and listen at As-Is, The Flux I Share, and mrjonesreview.

Also check out my poem Glistening dAdA Plum Meter at Liebamour. You can read the entire issue or just my poem as a PDF or purchase a print copy of second issue of Liebamour.

Don't worry issue 3 of Blue & Yellow Dog is on line now. The print issue will appear simultaneously with issue 4 due out in spring.

Matthew Johnstone's Let's be close Rope to mast, you Old light Now Available at Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop

2010-12-31T06:31:00.000-08:00

Courageous and inventive, Matthew Johnstone journeys into the heart of urban dismantlement, nihilism, and downsizing. “I forgotten in city shine in cuban requests,” myriad negations become criss-crossed as quest for time compressed, space illuminated, all-but-enough fragments glimpsed as fleeting ontologies of self, world, sign. The sea becomes an inward thing, the California sky inside darkening, the journey moves from here to here between desiccations of Spicer and vision-hungers of Rimbaud, adjacent to Chet Baker jazz riffs glimpsed as in an “Old Light”: “This is the place to place my tender.”

-- Rob Wilson, author of Be Always Converting, Be Always Converted and Waking In Seoul

Let's be close Rope to mast, you Old light
by Matthew Johnstone
52 pages
$15
Blue & Yellow Dog Press
2010

ISBN-10-0982953542
ISBN-13-978-0-9829535-4-9

URL: http://stores.lulu.com/blueandyellowdogpress

Issue #3 Blue & Yellow Dog Winter 2010 Issue Is Up!

2010-12-15T11:54:00.000-08:00

Hi people,

Issue #3, the winter issue of Blue & Yellow Dog has been posted.

Please feel free to read it, reread it, and spread the word about it.

This issue contains poems by the famous and the infamous:

Richard Kostelanetz, Dorothee Lang, Crag Hill, Vernon Frazer, Ricky Garni, Glenn R. Frantz, Joel Chace, Sheila Murphy, Benjamin Nucum, Matthew Johnstone, Felino A. Soriano, Philip Byron Oakes, Dylan Harris, Richatrd Mason, Keith Moul, Adam Fieled, George J. Farrah, John C. Goodman and a review by Nate Pritts of Joel Chace's book Sharpsburg.

If you enjoy reading the poems of Richard Kostelanetz, Keith Moul, Matthew Johnstone, Felino A. Soriano, Joel Chace, John C. Goodman, please browse the Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop for books by these poets.

Just a note for those of you keeping score: Adam Fieled's Equations is due out in January 2011 from Blue & Yellow Dog Press.

That's all for now.
So get busy reading.

Check out Thomas Fink's Review of DRUNKER/holding ember in Galatea Resurrects 15

2010-12-10T06:08:00.000-08:00

Thomas Fink has posted a perceptive critique of DRUNKER/holding ember at Galatea Resurrects. Follow the link to the page and check it out. My first published review EVER! I would like to thank Thomas and suggest you Google him and read his poetry & reviews on line. Adios for now. Raymond.

Joel Chace's New Chap Book, Blake's Tree, Is Published by Blue & Yellow Dog Press

2010-12-04T09:44:00.000-08:00

"Blake’s Tree begs to be read out loud. Uncanny and spot-on, the repetition of words and phrases which levitate within a controlled form. Lushness in the economy of word. Lyric and narrative commingle. This is serious and necessary fun."

--Kit Kennedy

William Blake played on his own name in “The Little Black Boy” (Blake = Black) and whirled us between nouns and verbs when he wrote, “Damn braces, Bless relaxes.” In these six-line, stanzaic pieces, Joel Chace follows Blake’s example—not only his “tree” but his ”poetree”—and offers enigmatic phrases that tease us out of thought. For a moment we are freed from cause and effect, from everything that insists on logic, and allowed to enter a space in which everything happens at once. “Negative capability” flourishes in this world of beautiful whatevers—where “over the riven and through” is not a typo and “light snapped on off whole city’s ponderable spook” is a perfectly reasonable, complete thing to say. “The world is all that is the case,” Wittgenstein wrote memorably. But he also wrote, “Thought can be of what is not the case.” These poems offer a beautiful release from our everyday sorrows, joys and dispositions. Climb Blake’s tree and see exquisite explorations of “what is not the case.”

--Jack Foley

Blake’s Tree
By Joel Chace
36 pages
$10.00
2010
Blue & Yellow Dog Press

URL:http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/blakes-tree/13832175

New Book from Blue & Yellow Dog Press: Richard Kostelanetz' FICT/IONS and This Sentence

2010-10-26T12:33:00.000-07:00

Hi.
This just out from Blue & Yellow Dog Press: FICT/IONS and This Sentence.
Two volumes of poetry in one priceless book by Richard Kostelanetz.
It is priceless but if I had to put a number on it that number is $15.
Visit Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop or Better Homes Through Poems to purchase your copy.

Richard Kostelanetz is a name we hear over and over if we have ears on the internet. He has been published countless times in some of the best journals out there and he is still doing it. His language experiments have altered our perceptions as a culture by redefining our words, by examining the nature of poetry and language, which is always a form of poetry to him. These books add that something extra to his already respectable ouevre.

2010-10-20T05:06:00.000-07:00

The Grammar of Mind by Keith Moul is available now from Blue & Yellow Dog Press Book Shop. Blue & Yellow Dog Press is also a proud new member of Better Homes Through Poems Collective. There you will find books published by nine or ten Independant Presses.

But back to The Grammar of Mind, a chap book by Keith Moul:

The terse yet potent verse paragraphs contained in Keith Moul's chap book, The Grammar of Mind, hold our most trusted & reasoned postmodern insight's feet to the fire, testing knowledge, wit, favor, an entire body of ecclectic bursts explode in the collective mind, shedding light. Somehow energizing the reader, each word is layed down like a concrete slab. If life is a book to be lived then "7/each day of life/taken straight/ administers shock treatment/to the mind" If this is hyperbole then it is also a no nonsense mirror held up with a sure and steady hand. A mirror in which points of order are clearly stated & numbered, as in "8/dust specks crowd into/the 60 watts of the mind."

$8.00

36 pages

Check Out Latest Issues of Out of Nothing & Apocryphal Text

2010-09-29T05:19:00.000-07:00

Hi gang. The latest issues of Out of Nothing and Apocryphal Text are up and chock full of vitamins for growing poets such as ourselves.

Billy Cancel's The Autobiography of Shrewd Phil

2010-09-09T05:35:00.000-07:00

In Billy Cancel's The Autobiography of Shrewd Phil something is going on. There is an edge along which the poet walks with purpose. The narrator states: "I fought a bear i liked/it//i rejoiced/with scissors." The poems are diminutive canvases on which color supplants meaning--"clay works heard dumb/shapes screeching." There is no loci or voice just the tattered remnants of a voice. Someone says "shutters i saw purple light hold/an empty fountain square" and "the northern hemisphere/was covered/in portrait."

The Autobiography of Shrewd Phil
By Billy Cancel

32 pages

$10

Cover art by Billy Cancel

Published by Blue & Yellow Dog Press
2425 SW 3rd Ave #98
Ocala, FL 34471
warholaray1@embarqmail.com

Available at Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop
http://stores.lulu.com/store.php?fAcctID=753240

naked beauty by John C. Goodman is Available at B&YDog Book Shop!

2010-08-19T12:11:00.001-07:00

In naked beauty, John C. Goodman's oscillating, never still anti-tableau of shifting visions "horizons unfold/like paper birds." Constantly observant among glints of experience and language inserted into and evolving out of the italicized "I" of these poems, it seems the transient focus of naked beauty exists in flux (what the poet himself calls "stream of experience") even as life proceeds on a ravishing scale "looking under postage stamps." Anywhere word glitters against word, image against image, each apt metaphor more penultimate than the last, we experience the moment and move on, dazzled, exhilerated, perpetually standing at the threshold of a glad new existence. Goodman is surpassed by none when it comes to epiphanic indulgences. He succors the pathos of the "I" of the self accusatory, the joke of the self deprecating, as though life (much like these poems) was painted in swift impasto and never forgotten.

naked beauty by John C. Goodman is published by Blue & Yellow Dog Press. Also available at Blue & Yellow Dog Press Book Shop: Realities of Bifocal Translations by Felino A. Soriano, Rien Ici by Raymond Farr, DRUNKER/holding ember by Raymond Farr, and the first print issue of Blue & Yellow Dog Spring & Summer Issues 1 &2. Available soon: Matthew Johnstone’s Let’s be close Rope to mast, you Old light, Adam Fieled’s Equations, and Richard Kostelanetz’s chap book FICT IONS.

We are a small press but building on strong ms submissions from both young and experienced poets. For more information on how to submit, to purchase a book, or just check out what we like to publish in Blue Yellow Dog visit our web pages.

sean burn's latest vis po is available!!

2010-08-14T09:42:00.000-07:00

dear all

the latest of sean burn's pamphlets of visual poetry - mo thunder - is out now from the knives forks and spoons press (http://www.knivesforksandspoonspress.co.uk). these are public texts photographed and then reworded, accompanied with decaying typographies - culture-jamming techniques to subvert those messages insisting we buy into narratives i don't recognise. it is a follow-up collection to all cut up published by tonerworks, 2009

New Issue of Blue Print Review!!!

2010-08-12T04:59:00.000-07:00

the new issue of BluePrintReview has launched!

#25: two²

“or to make it simple: make it 2.” – that was the key line of the call for issue 25. curious, i waited for texts and images of the “2” kind. and received: two-way poems. stories inside stories. 2-layer photos. poems in 2 parts. second-hand clips of life. and so much more twosome goodness.

the first threesome of twos is on now, kicking in with The Scream, Fire on the Other Side, Pre-Cell Observations in 2 Parts – and with a spin of complementary colors: http://www.blueprintreview.de
this issue goes live in sequences again, new “two”s will pop up every couple of days, check back or just follow the announcements on twitter and facebook.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

blueprintpress micro novels:

Blueprintpress is proud to present its 2 first micro novels:

The Republic of Love by Nora Nadjarian
My Apartment by Michael K. White

Both micro novels are offered as signed author copies in hand-made, limited editions. They will arrive at your doorstep with international air mail. Pre-orders are open now.

For details, author info, excerpts, order info, go here:
http://www.blueprintreview.de/bpr_micronovel.htm

Check out Counterexample Poetics!

2010-08-06T13:35:00.000-07:00

This month I would like to thank Felino Soriano, the editor of Counterexample Poetics, for having me as Featured Artist. It is a great read. Lots of other writers with not a little talent. I feel very humbled to be part of Counterexample Poetics. Check it out for yrself.

A New Kill Author Is Up!

2010-08-05T12:00:00.000-07:00

I have a poem--The Pueblo Is in My Name--up at Kill Author. The whole issue is jam packed with great writing, imaginative stuff. Just go on over there and see for yrself. Don't forget to come back!

Summer Issue of Blue & Yellow Dog Is Up!

2010-08-04T10:32:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody. Issue 2 of Blue & Yellow Dog is up and running. It contains poems by Jenny Enochsson, JD Nelson, Eddie Patterson, Sean Burn, Ton van t'Hof, Nico Vassilakis, Jessie Janeshek, Travis Macdonald, Philip Byron Oakes, Christine Herzer, Francis Raven, as well as poems and collages by Valery Oisteanu. There is a print issue in the works which is comprised of issues 1 & 2. If successful it will be available at the Blue & Yellow Dog Book Shop.

New Otoliths Is On Line Now

2010-08-01T05:13:00.000-07:00

Check out the latest issue of Mark Young's Otoliths which is now up and bigger and better than ever.

Felino Soriano's Realities of Bifocal Translations

2010-07-09T11:31:00.000-07:00

Felino A. Soriano's "Realities of Bifocal Translations" is dominated by jazz echoes, scatted as it were, and its idioms, as well as the personal and celebrated brushstrokes of 20th and 21st Century painting translated to poetry. Predominately one page takes, the poems, executed in a hybrid of modernist/postmodernist syntax, offer the reader a swirling look down & up at the all-important avant-garde heritage of us all. Simultaneously historic and contemporary, the poems in this volume do what good ekphrastic poetry (or music or painting) should do...dip its tongue in the honey and lay it back down, poised like the instrument all musicians/artists/poets share—experience and articulated reality.

About Blue & Yellow Dog Press:

There are only 5 volumes of poetry published so far in Raymond Farr’s Blue & Yellow Dog Press Book Shop (a spin-off of his on line poetry journal Blue & Yellow Dog)— four volumes by Raymond Farr, and Felino Soriano’s Realities of Bifocal Translations. The next book to appear in the B&YDog Book Shop Series, will be Adam Fieled’s latest prospect, Equations, due out sometime in August 2010. Any full length poetry ms is welcome. The editor promises a careful reading of each ms submitted. All ms should be submitted as Word docs, RTF, or PDF attachments to an email and sent to warholaray1@embarqmail.com

Felino Soriano: Realities of Bifocal Translations
Poetry
Paperback, 98 pgs,
$15 plus shipping

New Lulu.com Storefront

2010-06-30T09:30:00.000-07:00

Visit the new Blue & Yellow Dog Press at Lulu storefront. I have my books there, as well as full legnth volumes by other poets and print issues of Blue & Yellow Dog. Prices are reasonable. Support the arts! Buy a book today!

Purchase big strange wall from Lulu

2010-05-30T04:51:00.000-07:00

big strange wall

Buy Rien Ici at Lulu

2010-05-26T16:17:00.000-07:00

Rien Ici

ANNOUNCING BLUE & YELLOW DOG

2010-04-29T04:42:00.000-07:00

I would like to invite poets to read & submit to Blue & Yellow Dog, a new web site I am starting up. To get it off the ground I need poems, Concrete Poetry, videos, audio readings and other sound experiments, art work, photographs, & even YouTube clips. Send whatever you feel comfortable submitting in a single PDF or Word doc email attachment. Send them to me at warholaray1@embarqmail.com. In the meantime spread the news and check out the site at Blue & Yellow Dog.

Kettles of Approval

2010-04-25T08:31:00.001-07:00

well along
each roped poem
means

one-armed

mountainous

a west/turn
coping fundamental
radii

wherein
kettles of approval
delay

lacing
upon making tracks

& asking the sky--

so purple
&schistose

&crossing at flats--

such a code
within ranges--

what seeks itself
in swerving

wearied by
encryption?

Fractions of a Mood Swing (Cedar Key, FL)

2010-04-25T08:29:00.001-07:00

This perdition of littoral.

Collaborates intensely.

One fifth its aspect appears alternatively a blue engulfed.

Its edge a difference.

Ogles barnacles apprehensively.

Gulf sways in lunar efflorescence.

Yet sepia to begin.

Flaming flushed heart makes sense of a pier.

Grey creaking dock slack in disinterested tide.

Chipped white paint flaking harbor house.

Wobble of signs in evening breeze.

Act out the lonely end of.

Flat creatures painted on shells.

Evade interpretation.

passage to a nude kind of {power sys}

2010-04-25T08:26:00.000-07:00

I.
Weeping douche bags, named Filipo Espoo
Lay quadrant together twined
Finland (usurist amerikan rites attack grid off key a sample of the
Decomp— i(task Turrets Syndrome. (CHarl—
The Scourerr,
The sorcerer’s gal pal on/off
(the man tag/guard(ted, avant gardened
ASK--positional pupae, to doffe cette caper
Jollyseine mastiff locator latrine watch me
Inch wittle: “I gotta stiff—ecco Prego!”
Meine(HDtv)’d, iii et al
If I verify:NASA ASAP
Programmatically post—p oint of reference-ilism / naughty ici
on commandchi
re: grid-girl —athon(esque acid –itation
launch internet denies twin eggo!!
Blah!baby,BLAH!

II.
What is wrong with Postmodernism is…
The very thing it is—a passage
To a very nude kind of {power sys}massage morphology in jarred moon phantom
Of LOVE, my calling is immediate/a dive
Antimacassar drive train laughing to punctuate order
Effective global capital nuisance claim
Ridiculous slotted fellow out of Seattle
Apparatus of power mouse pads—Diderot-like
At the root
A brain case highboy oak-back monkey lunatic iota buff
So doing it collapses the complexity of the history of

As the origin of
Uncanny resemblances/&suites ahoy!
Ever grater rats of gratis turnover frozen culling
Experimentation thru
EMPIRE/turmoil
It des-troys itself thru them glassware
Being radical Chimera at Kwik King convenience store: 59¢

“I swear I didn’t sayTHIS THAT or the oyster thing recklessly
Once removed
The multitudes are key
Refers to level
Feminine tableau tone Pop (t)Art on quantum Brattle Sq.
Or NOON near San Sulspice

III.
Nor evil adjunct ,sub
trahend
Inch universe ping p ing pinging things mention
of.
“post modernism [BYTES]intellectual” boxes
Tenement shadow life of dodo
Bliss living out dusk(summer, august—dry august wind—
Prevailing “political movement tends
To be language of the
Elite, whereas
Diacritical dialectic/ballad, oxygenated wire-proofed
(et noir)
The barbarians, Paul, & macaroni elbow song

of. Regular incline.
Suspicion of: “q’est-ce que uneSIGNlanguage?”b-a-c-kwards…
N-G-I-S mirrored/ “committed to the truth
And real political change”
See Ibid. pp. 154-6 on Amy’s farm in Weirsdale
Ore Utica, inert
Meddlesome post-
Modernist postmortem
not. Spoofed/neglected chowder head egasm finger tip campanile
Just format Wal-Mart Andy Warhol I’m laughs.
“Whereas for Bhabba it is as if

We were”—
Polonius speaking ghetto
Intrinsic dildo enacting roughly
A radio unearthing Nickelodeon Daze—
Relenting to act nervosa in other words

Crater. Baste. Interrupt. Pall Over Dozen. Oven. Manor. Song. Imply—

SPLASH down!
Eating old regimes from inside a bubble gum dispenser
The news flows/follows
The krill is gone, baby…a long way to a second addiction
Shoots watts
Askew rocker pins
Settee
100 pixels
Talks garbage

TWO TEXTS

2010-04-12T06:24:00.000-07:00

Raymond Farr - Two Texts

unWholy ePisodes

2010-04-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

I posed

A hundred years while playing
Misfortune’s bitch

At the Bay House Theatre a lightning bolt hit us
Knocking out Time’s teeth
On a baby grand piano

I sat like a rat
Trapped in the limelight

I paused
To put on yr funny funny face
Before weeping like a man in a little girl-mask

I vomited doom
& danced like a harlequin

As I brought down the house
I dreamed I heard a sensible tale

I stole every line
& staged it at midnight

Off beat
In a manner of speaking

A fire caught fire in one little chair

My bed room got soaked
By the flood of your tears

I ate the heart of a live grenade
& all I remember is

How sensitive were the calla lilies

**

With my razor hand
I crumpled up a Budweiser beer can

The dregs at the bottom
Predicted a fracture
Of half-drunken images

I foresaw myself as an ember
A loose fiery speck turning to soot

Caught in the crook of a small distant branch

& all of us corpses dipping our heads
In submission
Almost religiously
Walked in & out of a bath of odd yellow light

Blinking: Caution! Caution! Caution!

A single crow mocking us: caw caw caw
Getting half the word out

**

The Thames appeared grey
Precipitously neutral
Faint & fading against a patter of commerce

Raunchy as the dead & dying tribes of shrill & screeching prep school girls
Marching down Fleet Street

**

Dear Miracle on Fleet Street,

I am taking your place
Yr leaden sentiment kills

My heart is a poem & a place
Beyond what is named

What is felt is all wrong

You must justify your version
You must walk without hesitating

Nothing is measured
I must always persuade you

To listen

Are you mad as a Hatter?
Are you normal as normal can be?

The whole world it seems
Is shattered / destroyed

A door opened only
At the mezzanine level

Of the great San Francisco fire
& earthquake of 1906

**

I am leaving
You alone

I no longer feel
Any empathy

For the tumult of the 20th Century

I am beginning
A new plot

Chock full
Of new twists

Better than
All my previous attempts

At gore
& redemption

The circles
Are plumper

More savory

Hallucinatory

Like hens
Force fed on

Growth hormones
& Iowa corn

**

A moment alone
Looking at

A long silent parrot fish
A feeling if you must

These are a new American subconsciousness

The cravings of a half life
Alien
& underground

The last thing anyone needs
Is a vibration
That’s only mostly human

**

As the last of the land came rising up

I latched
Down

Any tempo
Around me

**

This seemed
Like a paradise
At first—purely Calvinist & the Chipmunks
Were delicious
Cartoons

So we stopped
& got civilized—

A man named Sherman married a woman named Sarah

He opened a dry cleaning business

He died the next day

He was one who looked out

He was buried in winter

The very next day his dog ate a raven

He had such a year

He felt he could breathe

He died of a blood clot stuck in his brain

He could’ve been saved had he not eaten fat

Which he ate every day

A pearl
Was his handle

A prairie
Appeared

He got up
& he line danced

He loved
Terra Haute

In a huff
He gave way

He sorted
His feelings

His tears
Were like snow flakes

Like ice flows
That spiraled

They were
Joy

That was
Spring

& his poems
Were like persons

All laughter
Some bitter

**

My little pet crab cake
Got yanked off its leash

& ran off the road

Its words were so beautiful
It stood in a film

On aisle 9
It seemed a dangerous balloon

A gift for now
A pittance for later

Fat as a Fatty Arbuckle

Hazy & abstract as
Rothko’s post-war abstractions

Fat flat horizontal

A shimmer of color
For sale at the end

**

In the absence of the wiener cart man
I zip up my fly in the amber museum

Our jazz piano pointless as a village
With one mouth
Between ‘em

& dreaming of fire
& hollow as a hollow man
A strange wild horse still snorts like a fiend
In make-believe stables

In the nightmare of horse stalls
It kicks out at phantoms

& spits
Wanting out

Of this cockeyed world

Some of us are cherubim
Some of us are demons

Our bodies flung against
Rake of the railroad tracks

Like piano keys
One ivory
One ebony
Set adrift in a copse of slowly dying elms

Our eyes look up
& there on the bulletin board—the haggard but heavenly face
Of warlord LBJ

A face can be art
Or as sad as a cloud
But never a warped wooden frame

**

& this is how we live now—

Conniving with doubt
A curse on or lips

The clock we’ve become has been disassembled
Deconstructed by angels of pure undulation

The future applies itself

On a face without skin
We sit in our skeletons
Shivering & winsome
Aching in our kitchens

Why don’t we cry?
Why do we wail?

We beg our brothers for money
For food

We beg them for mercy
For our children

Expecting none
For ourselves

But receive only a promise
A face that is twisted & carbuncled

We are laughed at
& ridiculed by the neighborhood urchins

Who turn off their scorn
And battle each other

Squabbling
Like the children they are
Over maps they have found

One word to settle disputes
The oldest of which is Meaning

& by this it is meant
A boy bringing chocolates
& daffodils to school on St Valentine’s Day

Useless in a sense
But prevalent

Nearer art & poetry
Than a thousand confiscated canvases
Than all the contraband volumes of verse
Locked away in the dark
Or burned on the square

In the gleam
Of an eye
We catch sight of the censor

& we are the censor

**

In the phone book
Is the answer to most

???questions

This was Kafka’s
Father’s

paternal contention

**

The remains of

Miles Davis
Though trumpets cut flowers in the 21st Century

Countries
Not faces

Are hawked by his trumpet
Make silence a downer

One is the Bronx
Where the hiss of a radiator
Is sending my love

A lobster
From clairvoyant Chicago

Circa the Jazz Age

& foolish with blood stains
Are love’s petty radio waves

A blue cow
Said someone in church

(Mistaking The Fauves

For the animal
De bruk)

A new music box
Enters an old social era

**

As though the west progressed

One belittling at a time
Of need

A single word
Begets a second

& writing
Is a crow

A Bishop’s miter becomes a tale
That is hidden

Sidestepped
Marginal for its skepticism

It falls
To one side
Muddy
With contagion

Forward march, said the one story pre-fab
& up the driveway we stormed

But holding our tongues

We shaved off
Our beards

Our beards of water

Our beards of nourishing peanut butter

A knife at our throats
At a low point of Lent
The ashes ran through us

**

Skunks slink among the seat cushions
Of the divans of our Greek inheritance

They lurch and they poke
Looking for coins

Rank crumbs bristle against skunk smiles
Their feasts are bits of stale potato chips
& Oreo crumbs

The birthing of the postmodern
Cinema / abattoir
Summons them to street corners

The nexus of whirling
Is the intersection of a boulevard
& a man with amnesia

As father is
A gutter
Is a beautiful skunk
But lacking speech
His eyes dim
& glitter
With animus
Impossible skunk
A deep sadness
Derides him

He writes out in long hand some difficult passage

A miniscule lyric
To be critiqued

& passed on

**

Our traffic school is French today

A psychological dream
Of a flute & French horn

It plays itself
As if by an If

Maybe a gull
Killed dead in mid-air

Still flaps
Its wings

Enter Monsieur Voyeur
At l’ecole despair

Where do all our little wrongs go?

**

I just gotta say…

Aloha, Hugh Hefner
Hello, Adolf Hitler

I started Prilosec today

I am young & featureless

& stuffed like a teddy bear

A haggard man
Handles the wheel

I have eaten my share of cranberry soap

Simon says…

What have you heard until now?

The history of the suffering of the foolish computer

Whose startling biography
Is no match for a human’s

The myth of the broken down dreamer
The deep-sleeping fat one
Whose deep-seated angst is a line dancing bear

His raptors’ repast is the song of a cricket
Whose soul is a suicide

I drift in & out of
The satisfying lines

& ghoulish notes
Of statistics

If this is all a mental Christmas experiment in love
I have only imagined I exist
As a colorful Chagall

In a void
Of skewed

& skewing
References

**

Volvo

The Magician’s boxy black girl friend
Is blocking access

To his view of the future

The old man can’t find
His prize possession

Code man in black mac / Liffey:

2010-03-08T04:34:00.000-08:00

According to Joyce
the Coffin lay in its bier
& the mourners knelt
L. Bloom
C. P. M’Coy,
Dash Mc’Intosh
& several others
I don’t recall who was
The Figure
Standing just by
Over there
Now gone
Mistaken for name of the figure
The boy turned man
O the boy turned man at the grave sight
The thirteenth mourner
& as Joyce puts it
Mistaken for a stranger
But disappears
Of a course to become judged in his black mackintosh funereal attire
Ever muted
By a stoppage in prayer
& Paddy Dignam’s poor corpse
The word benign like the divine
& him bursting
& us so benign
Oddly dimpled bowler
Mentioned on the head of a mourner
Standing aback of us
Entirely of a nature to disappear
Mourner of the other 12
At the plot of
Poor Dignam
& as I said Joyce said
Paddy Dignam
His legacy of
Good humor
A bent elbow for the fun
Bon mots just for the world
The grave
The one in it
No balm like a black balm
A balm so sweet
Of choices
Strategically arranged
A life steered through
& around
Navigable they want us to believe
And down along the sweet flowing Liffey
The crones squawk
Indefinably
Notions of flowing
Of hair by the river
A woman’sssssSssSSsSSssss long strands
Same as desire
So cunning
Languor of the siren’sssssSS sSsSS Ss SSSSsssss
Eternal flesh
No longer a boy
A man now
Per chance transformed
To invisibility
O black in his black macintosh
No longer
A boy
I’ve a rare bone to pick with the river Liffey
From which
It is clear
All speech flows in the world
The heart-stopped-world
Spoken to
The bone-yard-world
Flowed through
By a river
The bone-yard-tune
Creeping under
The stranger’s black mackintosh
Like a desire he detests quenching
Out of the grave’s cusp of loam
Came Liffey
A moment in it
Both grave & Liffey
Some shuddering belch of an “Excuse me,
Are you in there?”
If
& when

Not Even Our Shadows Will Follow Us

2010-03-08T03:54:00.000-08:00

Iloveyou, meaning thiscanary has beenourluck;
meaning we both love themusicplaying inmyhead.
Iloveyou,meaning I hope you neversuffer,asIhave,
for being charmed; meaning wash&choplove’s
onions,cryasyoulaugh.Iloveyou, meaning canaries
tire of their own mimicreflections; we ignore them,
telling each other Don’t worry, it’s no ta sign. Blue,
meaning “awkward:” I shaved this canary for you.
Joke,meaning“concerned:”I spoofed the canaries
foryou.Canary,meaningflight;meaningyouwashed
thisplumhopingforone longsweetriff.It lasted a
moment. It lasted like a monument, bigasCharlie
“thebird”Parker. It glistered when I bit into it for your
sake. It was myself, my sweet necrotic voice I heard
singing intheback ofyourthroat. Ohbaby,Iloveyou,
meaning do you know this canary? Oh baby, Iloveyou,
meaningI’llbeyourcanary, my wings bright, gaudy
as anything toofamiliar,and disappear into thinair.
Ohbaby,Iloveyou, meaning disappear withme,it’s
thateasy, notevenourshadowswillfollowus.

Icarus Fallen to a City's Limit

2010-03-08T03:44:00.000-08:00

The sun proclaimeth its love for the angle
At which it is seen. The moment I fell: O! strange
&lovelystrange&lovelyirregularities.
Onefragmentfrom. Is like another. A city
thus defined determines its grandeur.
Looking into a pond or mirror is equivalent to:
I shaped ideas.I paused to check my balance.
If I fell It wasn’t unwittingly. The scene upended
the writing. Only this sense of a shift in perspective:
outcome/delay. As I looked on it swept past me
whose face was a taxi cab. Thepoemabout
Lenin was an anvil he detested reading.

a Yahoo word search evolves into a philosopher*

2009-12-31T10:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, a splash page

IMAGE SEGMENTATION
Is old fashioned

A tangle tangible tangerine
Kinda night of

Transitional
Parishioner conspiracy

As a lama
Construes wheelbarrow
Among dachshunds

Anywhere
Aorta goes

confidante Postcard Lithuania

As thousand Moe
e’er
Dostoevsky Blackburn

Cotman sapling
Holystone translucent

stuck in the
Throat

For this is an ambiance

C’est alors qu’il fait la connaissance
Responded advisers

Helicopter perception
Clashes
Requesting stronghold

I agree with you

machines provided
empty
historical compilation of

reactivity & interactivity

Your saying is so good
& useful for me

a far cry from
Ultravioleta

a skyscraper City,
set in Provence

costing $100

ª All language in this poem is “found” language. It is taken from several
Yahoo pages I searched using “tan lin ambiance is a novel with a logo”
for my search parameters. I have moved them around abnegating their
original order on the Yahoo pages. This is the sum total of my
manipulation. They are pretty much as I found them on Yahoo. I prefer to
label this work a “selected” poem rather than “found” poetry, as my
process was simply to select lines & phrases while composing the poem
as I did so. Thus each preceding line or phrase effected those which
were to be selected later in the process.

Eye Uneasy with the Story*

2009-12-31T10:48:00.000-08:00

Since I’m by myself
I bring along a book

The book is mesmerizing

A perfect bound
Closed history
The size of a nest

Its pgs
{Involving

A rope (Representing Reality)

Gross acts of non-
questioning

&
One theater}

Expound on the relevance
Descending in the form of

Abandoned farm buildings
Now housed
In

A miraculous outpouring
Almost at random

Once lived
The key events
Swiftly fled

The improbable
The unlikely
Significant Unfair Arguments
With Existence

Act on
Sublimely innocent
&
Brutal burning deck

Of eye uneasy
With the story

(Such is the fervor
Walking hand in hand
w/ )

Particles
& waves

Really bad movies

&
Venus to the
Hoop

*Text & title were "found" on line.

My only creative input was selecting them

& arranging them

into a poem.

Ever a Silo of Twelve Seconds

2009-11-15T05:44:00.000-08:00

English was still major development
Spoken in broken cups of glass & steel marijuana

& thinking as straw was a silo of straw
Evolved through space of twelve seconds

No matter how strafed
A loot of legs and skirts and muscle and hair and eyes and breasts
Dr. Strangelove just screamed

In cinematic contrivances found loved by no pulpit
Surfing was a fad soon
The waters did doom upon atolls of radio waves

In watts they were whom not quite ourselves
A view’s pewter ball I rolled into sleeves

As sixth of a rumor we fell out of knees
A jingle in pain till old western dead

[Your Name Here] up in lights

2009-11-15T05:40:00.000-08:00

[Your Name Here]
Acts out a movie
Votes in a theater
Saunters into &
Out of frames 1-
20,000 delegates
On camera / off
Screen justified
Citizens external
Ask your local
Party rep or just
Shoot the footage
MEANING Me
I Us opting for
Corpse smells of
Aisle seats &
Public nonpareils
Improvised by
Cross dresser-
Prophet his own
Shadowy persona
Non gratis the
Situation appears
“legit” afterall
As does a bill
[not a duck’s
Beak] a George
Washington
[“Roll ‘em!”]
Is a form of late
20th Century
Diplomacy. [Film
Talks, yes?]
FOR SALE is
The means of
Cunning’s own
Historical re-
Enactment of
The lost art of
Cash acquisition
Directed by
[Your Name Here]
But poems on
B&w 35 mm?
Scenario one:
No longer civil
Folk [Your Name
Here] mounts
A buckboard
Re-enactment
Is filmed / Is
History scripted
Revised for no
Sake or cause
But repetition
But repetition
Vs [Your Name
Here Up in Lights]
Scenario Two:
No lawnga civel
Foke [Yore Naim
Heer] shall alter
The parameters
Shall mownt tha
Bukbord re-inact-
mints appearin’
both on screne
& in tha awdienc
Simeltaneuslee.

What Sources Gabble On About In Spades

2009-09-28T09:45:00.000-07:00

I.
We were discussing

“the photogenic bride
Of Shelley’s Frankenstein”…

no…

We were discussing “evil twins”
Of dump site Zero—

Niagara Falls…no…

Theories of gamma rays bursting
(onto scenes)

In heaven
I have shoes…
& I think…shoe laces made of anything

lead or neon
Sandwiches

Sequentially eaten
Raw with duck eggs

Though lettuce in them
Left us unquenched

The advantage is yrs, iron mike

II.
Elements contain
Lipsoft for women

As Vivaldi

Ropes musical canisters
Making lice a star

Dome—

Matter was our source
Of this evening’s topic

Was better off dead
Than a spider

The bread was our topic
Of which. It is.

As was: rien…maintenant rien…

Toujour maintenant rien,

The rice kernels burn
As though gassed

Atavistically yrs,
Nate Turner

III.
A continuum
Often mistaken
Went flaccid

Foraging a Universe

Of aluminum foil
Boiled potatoes

Are nominal
Mesh

Of
Autumnal equations

Meet
The stranger’s
Eye

Only ice matters
In the fist

Of hate
I hammer
& hammer

My
Self

A token

IV.
No longer the style of winter robes
Are small & naked

turbine efficiency

In token submarines

of silly silly
glass underwear

of subconscious light
becomes lumbering
factoids

At the speed
Of soft butter

melting
A crawdad

Is licentious—

A pauper’s sex drive
Tossed

In the mix

V.
A substantial balling clap

& the light snaps on
Melons & bacon

Bitter in anything’s suave salad

Of celestial beets
Purple till we snuggle then strangle

Chef Pluto the Elder

In synch with
I am a billabong

A reindeer of significant
Existential roles

Played by anal trajectory
Of indifferences

On lunar surfaces
All pocked
& cheesy animus

(we relegate our business)

toad stools that
hinterland & I forgot

Keep records
That I divulge!

VI.
We want you to discuss

this with us
& that with them

Defend every point

of no return

as a non sequitar
Non sense being the automat

Portrayed as a g-spot
The entire aspect holds court in its hands I am dynamite

Ice monkey
Battling for tuna

My rage
In a Dixie cup
Is a great way to meet

chicken coops

Blended families
For god sake

My stove pipe
Hat yr pork pie hat
Are a pink that is little

A prank
All-inclusive

Of living proof

of life
(& deaf)

VII.
Call us
PUNK’T

Culled from
Reminiscence

I’ll tv
You later, mossy clan laser beam

I’ll taser
Yr efficiency, fridge raider eye patch of soulless soul patches
Our reception is bear

& stranger than Thailand
From Tylenol

VIII.
I am a boot
Of Milan

Observing a railroad

The largest commercial source of

Lariat
Hgh freak went sea
Radio waves

on this western boat of
glee reminds us—

Treasure islands are far off
quasars

wither thou goest, umbrella drink?

Casino dolls masturbate

Pushing up
, doing ten or eleven

No governor

Or sprouts

Or mackerel-owl affect
Un-
Sailing Djuna Barnes

A half hour off

IX.
Onion heads either

A culling
Of little pinks

Big &

Huffing infernos closer than
Furlongs

A
Rush of

Alphabet

Discards (for the life of me)
Clean out of

Awesome Buddha
& next

I have nine feet
A swiveled intellect

A ruins of
A romance

Hair raising

Viaducts
To re-
Hash

—habilitate

Raiment of the 6 Emergent Phases

2009-08-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

Phase One: Historical/documentary

If Dante spill redo
Getting it down

Flotsam of melon-
Headed cartoon boy

Stands on his heels
At aardvark

Shallow chronic
Disconnectedness

Divides DeLillo
Reading Pile 2009

Animus device catalyzes
Vendors’ secret

Civic ZOOM lens
Dissipates grammar

Curving thru art space
Plucking & poking

Shall we conjunction
At the junction?

Strategy assumed
To be continued

Phase Two: Social/communal

Urbanized in ChiTown
The pizza whores rally

(It’s a delicate matter)

Words’re looked up
Their faces on like a nite lite

Paupers loathe the city’s
Hound dog ars poetica

Gripping & caterwauling
Holbein’s dusty MP3 players’re

Clowns for a home town
“Come in from the acid rain”

(& big w/ the shoulders)

Phase Three: Mortality/sensuality

Idio-pisseurs gloat over
Shacks’ lustrous gluttony

Seminal orbits sire robots’
Oblong nailed sense

A structure of structured
Polyps &

Sense making

O people of gonads
I needled a gendarme

Similar to
/ Redolent with

Jack London, Ontario
The fixer
The dream-shaman

Shimmers nightly
half-martyred

Ogled on rivers

/ He flop-houses

p—shivering,cold, “oh, no, not

now”

Gunned main frames
Whose shame isn’t poison

Whose RAM-horse plots
Coups

/ the Gameboy is brkn

Queued up past the exits

The other’s a fugue whose
Shadows’re echoes

Phase Four: Scientific/supernatural

Under sublingual hypnosis

One’s singing desire for science spanning rainbows

Deletes rhythmic feet feigned by stroke

Of a key
*

In cataracts
Crunched by force of waterfall digits

The gleaning of thinking seems sadder today

More sad
Than recondite
*

Across sentiments darker than slop troughs
Saw dust is heaven at seven am

On one hand’s a claw modeled on wavelengths

I can’t leave
This soup can
Is isolated

Phase Five: Logical/generic

In sublime parataxis

The roar is enormous—
Enormously m-t.

Canticles empower typo.
Funknee typo (sic) suck seeds awed ball ads.

Any foot measured.
Or bauble(d) secedes the Klondike.

Bob bob-bulled his way.
A blonde dike.

A violin (each string a disc, a waterfall)
Is bluntly
Optimistic furniture.

A trick is a slang thang.
A pattern

Of euphemism
Sweeter than canon-

Iced saints.

Angular willows
Mobile enough / fail to contain

A pose / piss
Against glamour.

Phase Six: Political/mundane

Just popped clear
Of small dog
In recliner

Look
Strange managerial sanctions have been put into place
Be patient

This war is not an editorial
Plucked by a swan
Or an ideal

We can fix this
No XBOX to rule
In exchange
Dada manifests
Triple threat
For only son(y)

Angels reason duck blind
Ransoming shouts

Never, ever, hotwire
The rich angels’ Audi!

The machine is full
Lay them on the container near the furnace
Till then…

Plain trees
Flung with monstrous
Moth wings

I Am Thinking Beryl Not Miles

2009-08-27T11:01:00.000-07:00

In the Ravine allure
I am thinking beryl not miles
Conundrums drumming
Debonair Peru
Bring patter forth
Acrostically deviated
Undulated like Winifred
I aspirate like asps
Speaking wild wild
(hound dog) Houdini
Quizzing intelligentsia:
Who is where in
12 apostates upstairs?
Don’t defenestrate
The obvious nor
Inculcate the mysterious
[ ] is # 9
On my play list
This —ism Version of
Straight junk realism judo
// = &&- üō¿ is etched
Superficially onto
Combs of wide wide
Windows in play
With light meaning:
“transit”ory shadowy
Aortic valve/ This
Quantum field
Gutter sinewy star matter
In strange flux
Comes and goes
Conjuring shiny shiny
Roger Rabbit &
Jessica Rabbit
Perpetrating rope trick finales
Screaming nth division
To a fine line this afternoon
As creepy reality Czechs
Warrant
Glad fudge Rx scripts
Taste bamboo y—¿Y! etc
Deconstructs Nothngness
& human Being a sundae
Or else X equals Y sliding
Third baseman into
What is the meaning of
Scale model/ Scientific American?
orSlattern
Bittern
Galf brzzes
In salten heir
]griping
Mundane
Look here \\\ ? ///\\\ * ///\\\ ? ///saith the listen
Art art a tiger
A poem art allure ravine :
A listen
Strikes evidence
Subverting radical chic
Twisting reckless
Grueling motor-ism
Nerve tic McPapacy—
Egads! potatoes!—
To Yikes! pomades over
A fraction
Of pome [one half
A density sings sentences
With must—
If that is a kiln
I’ll heat my at

"fleurs"

2009-07-19T15:02:00.000-07:00

Verticality groped “fleurs” occasionally
Retroactive telephones rang to plausible outcomes
Blunter blue guitars robbed at curbside decided
Let’s do the monkey
Angled widths / breadths mistakenly golden
It has a singleness singing like dollarfish in church
But glee & who fled them expect to be fed
Ransomed for no whistle
Each limned beforehand a counterfeit driven ballistic
Matters of shells is what we’re looking for, she said
& went on: the daubs of pallor
The pointillist’s torque sundered by slender feelers
My beliefs? Simple things, yes?
Quarried voices outdraw oddly a giddy abstraction
Tableaux’ inch worth of String Theory toppled by
Rubbled terrible defeats humanity is living thru
The one course slopes off
At frame’s edge a point of seven tangents seems elliptical
Jet-shaped as angst now deeper frgmnts due to meaning
The ordeal is beautiful typography, yes?
& yes, he coped ideally at first
Learned how not to unknot himself psychologically
Before rejecting himself scientifically
Reinvented by followers he missed them by minutes
When he died he changed is a fact it’s true
Still claim men in America love beautiful dogs?
But roomed beneath correct lines were new spaces
The right knives with the same fork and spoons
Elements’ as yet unspecified whirlpools of dictates
Too calculated too homey for spice traders
& yet it’s “fleurs” they optimize at farces
Tens of thousands of burnished picnic dot coms
Lit in normal machined largesse
Intimating X-rays opined by harbors’ sundry cods
It’s as fantastic-science-waiting-on-tables that they wait
A soliloquy’s broken out of subway
Obsessed with ornamentals
A kingdom flown against earth its offering of outrage

Eight or Sew Wider Buses of Affect

2009-07-04T10:52:00.000-07:00

LIKE pertains to
LIKE plum blossoms
LIKE wafting

Smoke poses
LIKE intolerable semblance
Angled LIKE opus

LIKE adventurous ateliers
LIKE octopus the same as
Eight or sew wider buses
Than hapless

An if during Mikonos
Is LIKE singular
LIKE out-flowered

LIKE a thorn bush
Yet vaguely

raison d'etre in tofu

2009-06-05T00:52:00.000-07:00

cannot exist exactly as formed

the very formed existence can

not exis

as formed we exist in a vaccuum

of lace words on concrete pillars

j's scalloped indigenous achtungs

2009-05-15T06:15:00.000-07:00

in the beginning
j. traded counterfeit ekpwele

measure was the rip tide
of j. barrelling across scalloped
indigenous achtungs, baby!

chevrons of sea dunes
converge like evidenceof j.'s poetic nature

j is what March 16, 2007

2009-05-15T06:13:00.000-07:00

a condition j. edits
hoping against hope?

or b) sevens where kafka's
"k" preexists?

THE END OF J. HISTORY?

or j. in his bathrobe
fetching the Times?

j angling for tread

2009-05-15T06:07:00.000-07:00

what j. comprehends
of snowed-in class mediocrity

J. LIVE ON THE JUMBOTRON!

his big strange wall of words
careless at detours
& angling for tread

j. learns as he skids

Look out, j! Words have
a cliff!

Pudding Pops Y Bueno!

2009-04-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

Duchamp typed ‘DUCHAMP’ in 20 fonts
& ran it thru the system
)FRANKRUEHL( wept & went out
)GUL Inche( smiled wryly with porcupine teeth on his ant face,
Kept ranting:
Machinegunmachine
Machinegunmachine
There was this sense someone had SPAM
On the back burner FOR SALE
“They’ve got the BEANS!” Duchamp railed.
“It’s all over but the sentencing.”

& so all was done wrongly
& tale ended

But Duchamp refused to relent /
Waited bleached magnificent 7s
for scalpel mIEKAL aND
thin & darkness
stick people people
to archive arachnids

“Meat’s out!” cried
fat chance of a page
& wept like a sponge mop
Wrung out
Of music
(with accent over oeia)

Peeping PEEPINGperception of stick figure figures
messianic messy messes
appeared torpedoed

Curtained BLACK onomatopoeia
read over &
over a hillock
My dynamismDUCHAMP
Whose foot
a (d)ream sped up
isobars crammed into Io’s vibrant light

Men’s porcelain
barf barf Urinal-ity, sang
Dog Dog eat’em up
Yessir! That’s my REALTOR!

Garage sales gargled
Pungent Polyps
& cheap polyesterdays

Smiles
& bubble baths

Rubber ducky-DuChaMp mapped & lathered
his row boat duchamp
writing: little little,
these lines are too much fast!
Invent a slow. mIEKAL aND
&slower
Too mucho. sexy sexy
Aisle 9:
Potato chips
Corn chips
Pop corn
& pretzels

& so days followed weeks followed hand puppets. a fridge
Tedium during hours at the Crocodile Mall
Observing the outposts of social order:
Chick Fillet
Borders
Ocean Pacific

The Super Secret Good Guy Underground stood up
Went rad
1 cm swinging & swinging
Intuited sea hags
Wrecked
Pudding pops Y bueno
UP RiVRoneDUCHAMPtwo
VOTE YES on PROPOSITION
mEIKAL aND

I Felt Subconsciously

2009-02-15T04:13:00.000-08:00

Mein hyssop mimes
confederate jazz
lyrics. for the
bistro.
Maestro hip hop
parade route during.
periodicity
happening.

Veracity is not a
place I want to visit.
Except for knives.
Or killing krill. A kiln
is over. mr head.

I felt subconsciously
about. U klinger. hi
top in. Haifa flat
iron.
Cycle upon cycle.
but no orifice.
Trope cliché. moi /
post-

Moi. little hang-up /
morose nooses. &
Bye saying bye.
Hand on return.
I cut my life into pi
pieces & carried it
out.

ESC key to veer
across median. Is not
expected to sell a
thousand
units by Friday or
Saturday: freedom.
SEX SHOW/peep
etc.

DE-com-press-ion
Uterus slop. The
train has arrived
silly as a.

goose.

Coming to A halt.
On super infant’s
unimagined
personhood.
Not near still
enough. Bocce Libre.
el & one

old Spect Vol—p
acer.

vite la bore.
eh tory. In cisterns
wild.

Sisters will & selph.
articulate binges. &
X-men.
& scale Models
concur. To begin a
dream il faut que je
dise:

“I alone am X-
Memory-X!” Tupelo
honey grove-stand.
X-Memory-X
collapses! himsefl A
nevrvous braek

donwn –m Xm m Xm
m Xm internalized.
A ton of old oboe.

Doxa: This Last Fuse Is Wit

2009-02-15T03:36:00.000-08:00

For Marco Giovenale

I:
Nailed coffin men fire up the singing apes

To gobs of boob drake darker taller tan than false anatomy

Begetting Beefaroni® biscotti taunting iota buds in airport flex hold

Thin Edie I mean

This doxa rotisserie goofs the spelling bee

Is nutnbut a bit a hi jinx

Tease the scrotum aweful broad zany grey spot light with doom hands of luck

Coxswain burly (b)ikeman swoons reversing golf

What is it up

In fast food chutes of Spain

La Toya’s tiger-Toyota purrs so mellow man back seat

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Her groin dialectic-construct spins hussies free hurrumph I’m home

Her jingle-juice isolated neon titty bits to block, please, Alex

The view is twisted Hussein neck tie of hemp

Olde Ruskie bible trick

String ‘em up at gunless tea estranged by ten

II:
Twinkie-fart seltzer-St. Elsewhere / sunless sea

Come on monkey launching pad tv canoe / sunless bee

Stars patter the anciennes / fun-less tree

Meatless Melissa revolves strident Corningware® rock pile / pun-less Klee

Paced gymnastically her bag’s a blur of jacked off man flesh / cunt-less Dee

Blunt disposable tissue bagged for index people / punt-less fee

Adam’s atoms piled tightly on / hut-less knee

Bandanas signify naked Tina Toner A# for pitchmen / cutlass spree

Bridget’s flix dot com cum onyx wet dream cum massacre dot com / shunt-less lee

Citified scum birth wombat etcetera the boyz know / hapless he

Her sins are multiplexed / chapped lip seed

Animus doodles her Rolodex / map-less deed

Scams Bob Hopi one last reed patch soul-less Vegas noxious honey bee / tongue-less feed

Bleached pi blonde escapes alien body dump site tsar with clap / sapless greed

Alternate cruelty in thong wrong flyboy in flip flops / dung-less spree

Merchant guns an f-stop dizzy lizard happenstance / gun-less tea

This last fuse is wit / bun-less oui

Sgt. Pepper's Sour Mango Knees Band

2009-01-10T07:24:00.000-08:00

Sgt. Pepper's Sour Mango Knees Band

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Poetry Literature india cost

pseudovanemuine

2008-12-16T14:15:00.000-08:00

pseudovanemuine

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Poetry Literature postlanguage poetry ek rzepka

daikon per / too damnable

2008-12-16T14:09:00.000-08:00

Daikon Per Too Damnable

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Poetry Literature postlanguage poetry ek rzepka

w dog chap cover

2008-12-07T12:17:00.000-08:00

w dog ms cover

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Poetry Literature w dog cover text

w dog

2008-12-07T12:09:00.000-08:00

w dog

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Poetry Literature poetry postmodernism

Read Zero Degrees from My Journal

2008-11-13T10:58:00.000-08:00

Zero Degrees From My Journal

Get your own at Scribd or explore others: Literature Poetry ebook poetry

Zero Degrees from My Journal cover

2008-11-12T05:23:00.000-08:00

Zero Degrees From My Journal Ms Cover

Get your own at Scribd or explore others:

sic transit--"g": texts one thru five cover

2008-11-12T05:13:00.000-08:00

Sic Transit g Texts One Thru Five Ms Cover

Get your own at Scribd or explore others:

Read sic transit--"g": texts one thru five

2008-11-12T04:51:00.000-08:00

Sic Transit g One Thru Five Ms

Get your own at Scribd or explore others: Literature Poetry raymond farr books language poetry

INTEL = PONTIFAX

2008-08-27T11:57:00.000-07:00

INTEL=PONTIFAX

by shoring “a’s” rondure
“a” Photo Shops® minikins [see minneken: Modern Dutch]
frame by frame
Mimir guarding Ygdrasil inverts gigabites
8:46 till 9:17
dubs toll bridge a circumstance
hilt to imagined hilt it’s
whitman vs. ginsberg
marginal as eye
& under a vent—suzerain accords
read poetry at six angles
9:30 till 10:28
INTEL equals PONTIFAX
“D” “E” “R” “R” “I” “D” “A” comma
et mulch, et scion, et molar, et “S” “T” “E” “I” “N”
12:42 till 12:56
instructive session
spectacular as clockwork’s
manque paparazzi [rummagers in old papers]
excludes
power systems wishful copper society
punning
dew ass thee roam ends dew
1:47 till 2:51
“Yesterday, mom &
“M” “I” “C” “H” “A” “E” “L” “P” “A” “L” “M” “E” “R,”
proved isosceles an asshole,
thimbles wept,
so-called by Romantics
of Info.”

Same as Kafka's Suits for Daddy

2008-08-27T11:49:00.000-07:00

Cranberry watusies
same as Kafka's suits
for daddy forgets
comingling fibres
to art of death edicts

A keen the other
jangles white as
plops itself down
on drops of paint
not onto not space

Objects cranky is
as cranky heirloom
for which to relate
exists unsalvaged
openly of Pollock

A mustang's special
fluids to howitzers
vanishes portholes
bluer on canvas
canvased at collage.

Stir Ingredients Until Vilified

2008-07-11T12:29:00.000-07:00

Both nocturnal entrepreneurs
Accrued time when the table split open
It was prearranged from time immemorial
Each setting fit easily each gasp
It just wasn’t fluffy : a kinda
Mulch befitting bougainvillea
A situation in which : the normal in us
Sickens our hypothalamus
Our ethics on a stage of hippocampus
A parvenu situation gone awry
Suffered evening upon evening
Of blinding joke bombings : a Gong
At the hour of our total sedation

Exchequer revival guns it up I-95
Slings ingredients till vilified
Is filed / becomes believable
A fact at a distance of 6 parsecs
Most notably a pederast
Dumbfounded flaneur asks
Bob Freckle his incident report
Made tongued by this sun
Of pork : a possible outcome
Delayed : paraphrase pouted thru tuna
Portals : the novel ruminates
On chapel prey –participle
Cliff dangling off glacial icebergs

Soma “zero-one” constellates ideal
A grid’s the result manic with lust
Ars longa vs. penultimate vita brevis
Swings into the swinging sewing
Club night manager’s Lotus B-52
The Night Watch at crisis point
Becomes Barthe’s ticket for mourners
Who abbreviate death as a garden
Or chicken salad sandwich
Sunday but a dream in which
A fourth durable span accelerates
Across sunset on Sour Dough Mt.
Pawning in our destiny of false teeth

Our authentic Rue Paul real hair wigs
Set in 49er gold filigree mass mailing
Culminate an existence water-boarded
Free of the blasted chains on soft Lily
Circa 2000 & the boat people on Fox
Reality closer than hope on a rope
Such domains regret little we suffuse
With larger mannequins standing in
Aardvarks are boat people too if you
Listen their cry is plaintive & shallow
Like a dead ringer’s eyes Time is a rule
Loosen then titan but listen & long for
This is a human this is our exit

cruxches

2008-07-03T03:40:00.000-07:00

Blackguards set chattel to
Chattel song

All the live long urinal pose
down channel/century 7
An ox

My mt. suite / viola cable news broadcast vibrates at intervals
Inn length (Tennessee
Repast
Is lyric

:the moon on a basque leash

2008-06-25T05:30:00.000-07:00

:the bonus gate keeper leaves us reeling
:w//w/outPOP up ads

:he knowsa guy(ser
:bifocal points in madness december

:calls pepsi co

:the moon on a basque leash : is it withdrawal?
:i haven’t a prayer shawl

:access tel aviv
:stymies tv

:the women swoon too early to be graceful
:reject a ms
:left handedly

:coffin seismic annie tug boat dinah shore awaits surreal captain

:eating shrimp malaise buttered sour kraut
:whole meat dysplasia for weeks now

:a mug shot vd de milo
:etc ike

:pontiff fiesta firecracker thanksdrueling
:w/ ezra skin

:more chill for the virtual

:when ground is brokenNOUNAGAIN
:the cityZAPATTA!

:UNREaL wherever

:we leave it
:brkn
:sworded

How Algernon Swinburne Found His Life's Purpose

2008-06-24T12:46:00.000-07:00

Imagine.
Merchandising the meaning of.
Epic Jenny.
In Haiti palm-hat.
Posted.
As witness.
Whimsy etc.

[These brackets.
Include.
Two.
Texts colliding.]
Is how.
Algernon Swinburne found himself.
Psychologically.
Bent.
Questioning in bed.
The meaning of signs.
His mission.
A black bird.
Or 7th grin.

His person-ism.
Void.
Of absolute line.
Breaks. Do-si-dos.
In square.
Blocks.
Of wet cement.

[Are these relationships the same?]

Oral Basque.
Is how he laughs.
Not moving.

Orgy man.
Crackpot man.
Jungled.
In grey rock.

Dipsomaniacal Derangement of Altered Facts

2008-06-16T01:31:00.000-07:00

Both of us bottle flies
Stood over

Accrued
Fixated dumber summer

Orchards—

The time when

The table split wide
Open

Due to exploitation
Of peculiar

Arrière-pensée w/no

Aggregate
To mention us
In passing(

It just wasn’t fluffy
Was all I cld say

Not: Art
Is long
Life is short

)
: a kinda

Poker game-situation ethics
Elite as brand X

In fancy Bulova City—

The Night Watch left dangling

To death
Of a sales pitcher

Exchequer remote

Observes nothing & nothing is gleaned
Or eminent to be mentioned

I quake until I’m qualified

In the 50th Gong Arrondissement

Exchequer remote
Suffers blindness bombings
Off I-95—

Derangement memos (
Sighing in quotes:

An egg salad sombrero

The match stick of noon
)

A Bob Freckle

Incident report (
Never scripted peyote wad
)

; A dumbfounding
Ecco homo exists openly

Of Pollock

Whose pinnacle mind-set
Is a seersucker’s Pop art

& this thru tuna portals—

Cats singing ditties(
Hilarious to hear

Caterwauling
Contrapuntal
)

Improvised by mud dingers

In evil glandular
Star speculations

The novella under

One umbrella
Is truly meant

To be kinder

A breeding scalpel wielding
Past participles ruminates in chapels—

Ars longa, vita brevis

It is for mourners I take along plums in my boots(

Not Dr. Williams
But his dog,

Immuno
)

Sunday is his dream
Copulation his hour

Bought Me a Mannequin Named Papa to Love with All My Heart

2008-05-31T11:04:00.000-07:00

I

The arrogance
the swagger are never gone
from me

I was raised in a shed
tear
without momma & papa
to lion over me

To deluge my ego
or buy me Oreos

(I am jesting of course)

Papa roves across borders
driven insane at four corners
of intrigues

Elastic as canon
ink runs from the corners
of his joust

Drastic in deformity

Plastic in American enormity
Papa gigs me
by my rigor mortis--
a raider of sign posts
& taverns
made eloquent by regard

In his country of woe
he motors towards nothing

His handful of sorrow
lags thru my crosshairs

I rhyme & I flatten
dear psychiatrist
mindful of cyclones
& greater than Kansas

(Hardly my Papa’s
little dumpling boy)

But Papa never believes
in my poems

II

Mama gestures
& puts on her glasses—
a dreamer in figuration

Her addiction's
a sentence ambiguous
as sign posts

Derivatives of marginal attraction
sing like a cobra
in reply

First she deletes
"glockenspiel"
--Auckland Personnel Only--
then she types
"glockenspiel"

She reads how
t(w)o (wo)men
sex is desire

That dogma's domain
is tahol's domain

(Psychological
as existence)

& that tahol
means shithead
her son
who writes poems

Mama’s factoids
are forces
TOP SECRET as hen
she dishes out madness

Her porno’s no secret
grinds tumult to words—
"aloha, fruity pebbles"—
in someone else's
straight face

Travel Ode to the Previous (Legacy III)

2008-05-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

A world is worded like a setting off
To a page or pages unknown. A reliable lie

Adversely juxtaposed. Indifference. Its core
Of meaning. All the lies I told stir up
Incendiary injustices. Space breaking down.
Transformed by subway crowds. Faceless
But theorized and therein lies the rub.

For all we know a comported idea is based
In reality. Solely a language unto itself.

A portrait sitter. Versions of a self contained
Enemy. Interchangeable as mental harps
Plucked by a poem. A poetry is not necessarily
An evil plural but composite, yes, it is the same.
A contrived lingo by individual aspect.
Consciousness nicked in the eye. A duality
Overtly witnessed until conjectured thin.

Incumbent revolutionary means and practices.
But a system just the same. Both fall into place
As when glue coheres disparate strands. A car
Built to jangle its keys in front of us does so.

There is a mean temperature uniquely dissimilar
From a torrid summer.

The moon meanders women into metaphors.
Explains real politik. Negates false idols.
Superimposed upon a grand system. He shines
His bourgeoisie miracle. Light’s so called
Devotion. Even a little speck feminine fascist.

Is he like us? One in a crowd of illusions?
A wastrel sleeping beneath bridges? Wrapped
In newspapers? Ersatz with zeitgeist’s fraudulent
Emotions? Words all the while escaping?

Bombed with cold and guilt is simultaneous.
Paradigmatic teeth chatter unto the charnel house.
Bombed with cold and gilt. Gilt is but a play

On the words: secondary intuitions.
Whosoever jokes alters the ghostly enterprises.
Is made a circumspect defendant. Intelligence
Coddles. Agrees to laughter and money handed out.
The form is of mansions and limos.

Institutional schmuck. Designed pianissimo.
The closed off literati. Or con. We all dream
Of the big score. It’s understood how we do
Ourselves in. Non-essential institutional schmuck.

Societal parameters stray toward effulgence.
The manner of sonnets gone meta-narrative.
The same art transforms a consumer. We don’t

Identify. The losers unless outlaws.

Our minds expand by orbitable laws.

Celtic Root Labyrinth

2008-05-25T09:16:00.000-07:00

Indoctrinated decisively uprooted bellowing
Clamoring the unbathed she-babe refuses her milk
Bottle’s mystic nipple golden in the air hanging
Without instruction the mad king embraces
His scientific exteriorities like feigned silences
Oared to come cries are all over the dark walls

Love? Exactement! No?!

2008-05-21T10:06:00.000-07:00

Superlative charmed dessicates of iris
& chamomile leaf dull gold doubloons
foundering listless in tide a kiss
jealous of the ear ignoble sweet sweet
lover & stove going out so wry lull
of tongue & groove indolent as smoke
O sputter of candle O sputter of
bee & laudanum the old impassive indignant
real abstinence absentee the jetty veers
skirts the scenic heights perilous as
surf/spirits among comrades tongue
after tongue misshapen by the sea the sea
ravaged at the point of entry a mermaid
& lean cedars by the gate

(In the room awaits)