shed : January 2004

01.31.2004

You can see a landscape without describing it
It's hard to turn away from distance

The birth of hauntedness suffuses (meekly) all distance
I know who I am when the cat remembers me

Who grows modest at the word nipples, loves fidelity to thought process
We creatures vulnerable to: infection, dust, yeses, towns like Modesto

01.30.2004

In the end I just don't quite go for them completely
Us and them, us and them, how many varieties are there?

01.29.2004

Dionysus gets Apollo stoned—not a happy moment
Let’s go hang outside town, chill with Dionysus

The party crested on music, on laughter; you in the garden with salty tears
He grew lemon, ginger, cannabis & papaya—always something for friends

01.28.2004

Alarms enable syntax, but flowers transcend time
The essence of the river: to unite and to divide

Open space depicted with no appeal to transcendence; ecstasy for free
Bright color that invokes no joy; lightning without epiphany

01.27.2004

Another time, finally, comes, full of idioms that were once lost
No one can do it for you is what made her crazy

The 3:53 a.m. finger-pointing and the white noise and the . . .
The dreams ran their course and the heart accelerated

01.26.2004

To live with memories massing is everyone's task
To live with prescience is subjective

You find you're gradually accepting it—that's what kills you
The lines of the story plough ahead, a monoculture

Break it down or it will determine you
Endure: now there's a word that halts the mind

01.25.2004

As groans grew nearer, a grown man wept
We find things out and work things out—but there's no exit

Expire: spirit departs; inspire: a spirit fills you
Ecstasy: to be taken out of the self—Dionysian

01.24.2004

Reclaim original mind, you reclaim what the world is made of
We talked (it's a love story) while thin, bare clouds blew over slowly

01.23.2004

Commission convinced congressman committed coitus
Prostitute postulates potatoes were potent

The President of the United States is POTUS
What can't co-exist in Plato's Republic? Ideas & Poets

For $64,000, and the game, Karl, What is haunting Europe?
Been Phil Spectored, resurrected . . . He's not the same as you and me

01.22.2004

It was a dark and stormy metamorphosis, not for the faint hearted
The reigning cats and dogs were eventually sent packing

Is there a parallel universe of private meanings?
Hands flex as you sleep, a dream? Will you remember?

"I'm goin' to where they speak different, done hearin' this shit"
Where's the museum of shoes? Of whispers? Of kisses? Of fists?

01.21.2004

Reduced-fat tax-cut has weight-watchers waiting with baited breath
Holy mackerel, Kingfish, the whole tuna school is mercurial

Appropriators shred amnesties then merge with demotic masses
Mr. A., did you mean to search for dynaflo? No, for terrorists!

01.20.2004

Who is that goon on the tube? His squad embodies the peoples' will
The results are now in: It hasn't been this bad since 1968

01.19.2004

It stands out because its formal energy marries you to the real
An art work that gives back a world, almost—not quite, identical to ours

01.18.2004

Milk & Honey Loaf: sift flour|drizzle honey|bake til humped & browned
Cheese Tart: toss bad berries|add a thin stream of cream|spread the cheese

Golgotha Gonzaga gondola Gandolfo gorilla Grenada g-spot gadzooks
"No ideas but in things," W.C. Williams

01.17.2004

A phase of productive mistakes meandered on, testing their resolve
A stream-carved glyph in a sand-stone cliff eroded by wind

Her mission became an addiction, like the vision she wished for
"Tender Buttons, and other erotic work by Stein," she replied

01.16.2004

Somehow he spins in shape a spacious liquid limit
The mind is at home in curl, curve and dissolve

Somehow he gives water a mind of its own
The mind is wet, it channels, runnels and ripples

01.15.2004

Where to put the image—cave? rectangle? hung in air?
Politics in the cave, community in the body, desire in everything

He wallowed in sensibility, made a mess of that ethos
The dancers stomped and circled, channeling desire

He went underground to subvert the status quo of understanding
Does the avant-garde exist after the hyper-link?

Pretext, context, sub-text, HyperText, what next?
Bondage to loss can make happiness embarrassing

01.14.2004

At first the spot was ignored; eventually it killed her
A zone is more nebulous than a district

The mouth of death opens; it never sings
I was hungry, you fed me; tired and you let me sleep

01.13.2004

Aristotle devolution: setting>spatial, plot>temporal, character>emotional
Looking at the commons onscreen, you see the "doxic" is toxic

01.12.2004

Why isn't to word a verb?
An outer and inner are represented within consciousness

A maze of chambers opens into options
Builders work in a field of unstoppered debris

01.11.2004

Responding to hunger we eat, to fear we kill, to the body seek warmth
All the rest responds to our visions of death

01.10.2004

Seek the stuff that makes this world, not things made for the world
"The eye, the ear, the mind in action," Heraclitus

Words enable the suspension, reversal and recurrence of time
Could the caves at Lascaux have been painted prior to language?

Color leads the bee to pollen; for us color signifies joy
Joseph's coat of many colors—joy that led to trouble for the Jews

A many colored image is a joyful image
Van Gough found colors at the intersection of joy and madness

01.09.2004

Everything (every thing) is processed in waves
Sun-shadow, wind-shadow and scree-plume all aligned

The inanimate world is part intelligent, acting but with no motive
Storm system veers inland; satellite images comma-shaped cloud mass

01.08.2004

Every idea is heterozygous
All gods who love the beach are shape-shifters

A common denominator of background haloes every image
Symbolism has morphed away; the "real world" has vanished

Homeless, consciousness feels OK passing through here
The shapes are willowy, and seem suffused by colorless gas

Brush-strokes runnel like willows on the canvas
Conduit for the sloshing kelp; furrower of a liquid line

01.07.2004

Not more pattern or order, but the stuff they stem from
One likes the naked, one gets lost in clothes

Hello, my name is Epiphany
Some of the words are portals, some caves, cloaks, clocks

If you knew I lied would you listen anyway?
If a painting can reveal "truth", can it also lie?

01.06.2004

Animal appetites are fiercer, but less destructive
The presence of death permeates space and time

Love and joy and bliss are destructive too
I'll keep going until I've lived myself to death

Only a small percent actually is translatable
I don't know what it is, but I'm afraid to use it up

The sands of time are never found in an hourglass
There is no truth but death—both with a thorn at the end

01.05.2004

On the beach, in sunlight, he licked juice off the blade
Many moons ago malleable Mary was chosen

Back at the beach, Bach complements the waves
More rain approaches concealed in wind

Wave rising beyond wave, distance rests and resonates
My heart is a horse, but in fast traffic it goes like a bird

Horses are an art form
Magellan is a beautiful sound

01.04.2004

All the marked, the taken, the saved—what counts?
Memory is a moon . . . essential to the dark

I invented a context to keep the memory at home in my life
In the house of her life, she wore the beauty she knew, and wept

01.03.2004

I went to the window to savor the freedom of solitude
Two rhythms clonking as two carpenters drive in two nails

The meaning of obscure remains obscure
The joy of just listening at the window is wisdom