if not, not (1999-2000)

    wednesday voluntary

red-poppy field,
leaning green bottles,
afterbirth of life,
let's undesign it all!

you can ask my associates,
between the warm colors of a vermeer
and the comforting sound of a bassoon
i'm ready to be befuddled or infatuated

pitbull, sandboy
in a light and intransitive relation
shalom rises
and i'm fixated on her pierced lips

go it to one
my wad
chain-reaction of the missing link
unhindered desire

contraband africa project
long limbs smeared with sperm oil
underneath some fraying striped fabric
sinister estuary of affluence
     
with the leisurly self-assurance of a pitbull's eyes
and with the self-containedness of a sandboy's world
i salute you, amor fati
with a wink


   lapidary complement

cateye glitters from the depth
of shabby silence
mild thugs conduct themselves
through foyers and corridors
even worst

she's eager to hide
her pierced tongue
oily-grey pearls roll away easily
karma coma
scalpel sharpens the skin

sweetmeat and buttermilk
nation of philosophers
by all but
her confident wink
like a smoky white moonstone


     if not, not

something vacant
some depth
still water; still and sound
some feeling runs deep

one of my hands on my chest
    to feel my heartbeat
the other on my genitals
    feeling my erection

lend me more vacancy
anything artificial,
bleached hair, plastics, preservatives,
fits and bouts of intellectualism

need some pain on my skin
mad rage
mind like murder
murder mind like social protest

or the like


more almost, more ever
       a.k.a.
give me applications

more almost, more ever
how do you plead?
the more the merrier
give me roommates
i'm having second thoughts
give me dreams
let me sleep on it
give me a poem
i could do with one
give me sex
back to square one
give me a bath
it takes all sorts
give me a pension number
suit yourself
give me credit
rather you than me
give ne students
now you are talking
give me bars
this won't hurt a bit


    white impromptu

willows grow grey beard
        under the weight of snow
    in the bright winter fog
they brace the streets
        like elaborate white lace


kissproof

zesty patience
dressed in lyric opal colors
it is my gingko biloba,
rubber tears of joy

father majority
project your decision into dirty silence
into dry pools
sleeping public works

or confound me
with irrigation
fat pain grows fatter
a feast of bananas, red wine, and onion

excellent falsehood
capacitors, converters and conductors
so all and humbling
like buying lingerie for mother

anyever
written in glossy black on black-matt pages
it is a playful rubber pain
stretching across eager nightshifts

cameo, symbiosis, or both?
a liquid lighter than air
with the freshness of green cilantro
is there a liquid lighter than air?


rationalization

it is just a game of tag
out of wedlock and into redress
atavistic in the safety lane
we sing a catch, we sing a round
and boxing gloves hold a rose

it is just a character piece
so excuse my excuses
we can put more baby powder on it
and levitate in lotus position
and perhaps compromize the cash flow

it is a push and pull composition
let's factor in some superfluous parameters
to demoralize the sanatorium
out of wedlock and into regress
but don't worry, we are singing in canon


details of a quartering

"thou art violently carried away from grace"

acrobatic events augment our care history
by the day and by the law
causal abscess runs casually
yet the compound years of time

"it has all the vitality of an error"

wart of a fact of a world
weary social hernia stirs up some iterant energies
in this existential broth
to make us crack up gobs of foam and phlegm

"be in nothing so moderate as in love of man"

nourished on lean and calorie-deficient rights
this a tribal-patterned conflict
has been drafting sense after reason after sense
non-accredited departments of peace

"i recognize the energy of your mind"

affirmative in excess
it is in the freudian sense
contra-selection loafs and dwadles
methodically

"thou are violently carried away from grace"

(etc. - repeat)


afternoon straight

blue trench
or conceived in its quiet infinity
where tom waits
and aliechim plays capablanca

trajectory of what?
we tighten our grip on our parcelled-out realities
rooted in a heavily undersoiled canopy
lumberjack polishes his nails in the corner

duck and dodge
dielectric air tousles their cool
are these those promised pseudo-diesel conditions?
it's time to don ague on top of our fatigue

polecat, laptop, furcap
you can call in the poundmaster
or take it to the fence
who holds the monkey-pen?

self-bred
single metaphors of life fly, swarm,
bump into each other in the room,
internecine or jaunty hybrids.

well, ultra-great
and in the dispersed brilliance
and the universal suppleness
consumed, frozen in the blue trench


    overhaul project

brown green black and grey
and dressed for an interview
propaganda flickers elsewhere
i thought i don't know
could i have a durable macaw?

argyle and algernon
elated and impersonal disdain
i'd like a portable cockatoo!
under a fern's shade
under a nun's habit

i need a secondhand parrot!
burden of proof
informed, and menacing, with a silencer
half prophet dressed up
brown green gery and black

    
mondo scherzo

famous apostate and dog-fancier,
he walks a baby on the beach,
on a leash,
dynamite strapped onto her body.

skin breathing
through briars and fodder,
pawn me,
suicidal santa claus!

fistfuck,
gangland,
update your policy!
shiny moral hallucinations …


the sydney voluntary

life-varieties and modifications
little pig eyes squint back at me from the mirror
this here numerology follows you south
purple or pink

on the other side
the other hand
kropotkin in trouble
kropotkin on the beach

it’s a famous chinese handscroll imitation
parks and birds after before the rain
the search is already on
among bays and skyscrapers

or feisty ladies smile on the street
and i call them sisters
pizza is cheap by the slice
better to be lost in summer, by the way

rare so beach mentality
to be didactic
on sushi and mango
summed up emails or misaddressed

it’s anabolic social integration
to say on the outside
little chunks of barks in a flat bottle
i understand, i under, i, , , 


choice project

about trout
soap slips on rainwater
well, it’s a moot point
snaggle-toothed
smile of an evil clown

stanzas and apron
in the meadows of ultimo
yes, we are fine, why not?
yellow snake, green snake
life’s choice patterned sentinels

tightrope-walker and dermatologist
sweat-shiny dark senegalese limbs
or things i won’t buy
most everything
but thick nails rusting in a block of salt


subcontinental complimentary

more beautiful than true
i hear footsteps on the horizon
sunglad we lie
on the edges of fierce elysium
few things more glorious than man asleep

looking at the world from a cave behind a waterfall
from behind the pearly veil of water dripping from my brows
the more my unrest
zero could be our tonic opera
in the cryonics of the spirit

is that blood, fat, or fire?
the amenities mesmerize
sometimes the air feels chilled in my lungs
like good moselle
is this blood, fire, or mine?

how advanced is man!
in its unlimited relocations
in the metabolic forest of philosophies
a sungod fluff of hair
it burns affirmative and unsubtle


aqua luna

moon water
runs, meanders, fast like quicksilver
slow like transparent glue
moon water
cool as mirror, cool as chrome

thus to bask in purple & green remedy
thin strips of pickled ginger
extra hot wasabi paste
moon dust floating
settles on the skin, powders the face

eucalyptus and pine
faint neon-blue scent spreads
and the moon water
meanders,
crafty resin of the night


Mickey in Duisburg

be it checkered or glass-coned
as universal as coca cola
the laser opera of our lives is on
sugarcoated and neatly trimmed

it’s gotta be soda pop
hospitality sugar soap
courtesy of the management
blessing of a vending machine

no point in being upset
no reason to get excited
don’t let the pastel get to you
you know it’s only Mickey in Duisburg

but between the non-linear lines,
somewhere inside a system institute
there is an authentic rhetoric somewhere
five-by-three, and chance by art

where patience thickens into lumps
grey gasometer of the heart
looking like you had a winter
gypsies plot the chance of art

and although i’m not too particular
and neither are my ways too crooked
on the whole,
i’d still much rather be cow tipping
or skinny dipping


beach style

black and gold
like sacred mud
tranquility grows like coral
under some twin vision of trogir and kerala

rain and sun engulfs the psyche
and embalms my room
dim and humid room, cool and spacious
lone ventilator hangs from the ceiling

tactless motions
morning sand
or allocating gentle concussions
the equal music and waves and spheres

walking miles for a smell, for a view
walking miles for a shade or hue
tahini sauce, aluminum, and vacation
hosted in hebrew daze

already just rearranging such recent images
like white parrots
sulphur-crested, blue-eyed, and dazzling white
they are glorious, as only minds can be

the dim room serves as a temporal sluice
sometimes water trickles down the wall
fresh smell of paint permeates the corridor
and a pine looks in through the open doors of the balcony


dogpound project

paper bark under my window
with the unintrusive epic of fazlur’s towers
yes, but do you have the right constitution?
it’s tempting to exaggerate
topless

logical goats chew on
the stale pliers of traction
we should all own our own copy of the buffer zone.
awkward and majestic
the theoretical equivalent of an ibis on the statue of a lake

into our synoptic confines
keen aliases come barging in
have your papers ready for inspection!
or another way of killing time:
the votive anathema


      sod off

there are such broken things in the world

   drunk to the ocean
   like absolutely
   deep sea birds
   very nearly
   sculpture of a lake

here & there you find sg that looks like sg else

   laocon emerges
   as a young girl
   grandmaster of nature
   three thirds asleep
   and no power lesbian

but even things fade rather quickly into scallops or toadstool

   prime me!
   you mean bugger
   arm me with fear
   a bit of all right
   a sound of sand

such is the she is the mahler of my heart


social mixer

out to lunch
on the wrong side of the road
to put the cap on
to let the cat out
and mired in banal intercourses of the mind

idiot wind
scratches my side
conditioned in consumer desordre
jazzy yellow stains
dry whore

boredomwise
it's coffee in my lungs
mad & madder
cold chlorine, claude lorainne
back soon


cosmopolitan

from here to alacrity
in the undermilk of life
godel's is the final word

roaming through streets and contact politics
we collect drift-sentences
and midstream apparitions;
Barbie on extasy, Ken on LSD
godel on speed

otherwise jolly pundits shower
our amoebic amnesia
with therapeutic corruption
and commercial common sense
against out limitless faults
godel practices dry cleaning
and fabricates reality on his garden computer

low-quality lunatics
we are
in our own unconventional comforts
but
somewhat invincible


        ampersand

	woodshed & cardboard
according our poverty portfolio
	veneer & tramini
soaked up in sawdust broadcast
	urban bedouins, shopping mall tuaregs
or to paraphrase it
        first we dash then we bash
our heads in feudal sports
	cock-eyed & half-ajar
the opportunities we move through
        inmates & outmates


	"this world"

"this world is too much with us"

april summer sits in my room,
ceremoniously? unceremoniously?
it's not worth deciding

in the form of zigzagging sex-minded flies
and sun-maddened birds
bursting with melodies

"this world is not with us enough"

sunrays change their angle
on the sooty window panes
in a non-economic tradition

mellow hunger meanders
through the ai's hours
absent-spirited

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page