Volume 3: Recession Poetics
Volume 2: Handwritten
Volume 1: Anastomoo
I would, if I could, request the verse of Wordsworth, Keats and Shelley. Alack they are gone, set free of this earth, and so I kneel for your submissions
Please send seriously good short writing to anastomooATyahooDotcomDOTau
Anastomoo is made in Jesse Shipway and tended by Tasmania
LES MYSTES
By Matthieu Baumier
Texts translated from the original French into English by Elizabeth Brunazzi
#1 We have gone to the earth, We have gone beneath the oak, Facing the stillness of The winged speech of the world. The oak is inscribed on the earth, The wings of the world folded within, Nothing moves. In that place stones and trees converse, In that place stars and clouds empty out The unmoving crease of the world. We have gone toward the eye Of the sun, We have gone inside the bark Of the silver birch, And the wild cherry trees. In the silence of the heart, the immobility Of the tree, We have gone there. In places far off from men, without language, Vanity, We have gone. #2 For my son, Abel Before leaving I placed my last kiss At the edge of the stars, Rain is falling on the prayer Before leaving I spoke with the torrent On the shore of disaster Rain is falling on the prayer The skies broke apart Over the waters, the earth. A flicker, and the wind Splits the drops from the tree. It is the oldest of stories The statue of salt, The one of men. In the distance The execution of forests Near symphonies playing in the dawn light. These are the ages of our history Buried beneath the tears of prayer. note: All reproduction of English translations by permission of Elizabeth Brunazzi and Matthieu Baumier. To the memory of Renι Char I am writing from this instant the aftertime of the world's end. There where, Tears of rain flow Where words take the secret shapes Of indecipherable vigils. I am living through the passage of the soul There where, Stones inscribe The landscape in flames. I am living in the wake of phantom armies And my eye comprehends only this silence. I am writing from this instant the aftertime of the world's end And I assume a smile Torn from the blood of stars. I say this: Let prose go silent now And let the spirit of water spring forth. Translated from the original French into English Elizabeth Brunazzi 4-10-2012
Saint Joshua of the Long Thought
788: mediocre at best she'll claim more though mediocre at best there was a knock on the door but who it was never quite presented itself opportunities abound now as we roll around in the mattresses foiling youth into leaving for the night as we played the games burnt into our flesh.
789: rodents count cars as they pass remembering each granule in the sidewalk as an ancestor recalling the blood in the tip of each finger each nail scratched a line to crawl back to. rodents count many things besides this though we, too busy, fail to yield to the desires that die behind our eyes.
790: the stage played out empty the crowd all weary too full of drink to carry on and be merry the legs can only dance a jig when they're on a high and with the pain management doctors on vacation nobody is left to ease the growths or the pain they cause.
791: too much olive in the glass for more and much more would only kill the rest of the imagination but as the wind stirs the bottom and the eyes peel away we're left to see ourselves standing outside the doorway.
792: emotional too emotional for cognition we'll develop poorly in the humidity and the west is too much for the pockets emotional we'll play and land our hearts to the side of the heavy let us rest now for the highway makes our minds grow less-than-weary.
793: we're just tokens for the thought and with it, we'll sort more than a Saturday out of the bridges that we're burning. it all means more than the page its written on yet from the window the second-story doesn't provide enough height to give justice to our desires. we're just tokens for the wise and practiced the ones who slaughtered through the night we watch our fascinations turn into Hollywood and then die before the edge of the night.
Doug Draime Bones Bones of constant regrets Bones of dreams in nothingness Bones of all the bodies in all the wars in universal time Bones of rotting bones Bones of fine white dust Bones of John Wilkes Booth, decaying in Mary Lincolns nightmares Bones of black bodies hanged & burned in Mississippi in the 1920s to cheers Bones of politics Bones of rituals & ceremonies Bones of Hannibal preserved in his own shit & blood Bones of hipsters still hanging on every word of Nat Hentoff Bones of Indian babies burned to death by the United States Calvary Bones of rats jammed in walls in tenement apartments across the rodent world Bones of all the horses who ever ran the second race at Hollywood Park Bones of the dogs from hell & A Season In Hell Bones of all the lies in all the mouths of all egos since The Ego Bones of promises never kept Bones of fragmented nonsense, which attempts to alter unalterable spirit Bones of remorse & guilt Bones of mountains & rivers & oceans Bones of Rimbauds Drunken Boat Bones of one solid brick shit house Bones of whales on the butchered shores of slaughter Bones of happenstance & bones of circumstance Bones of desperation & hate & misery Bones of angst & pathos Bones of the stagnant & polluted air between you & me Bones of Thelonious Monks dead cat Bones of situations & occurrences that never were Bones of a butterfly in the eye of beautys release Bones of anger & fear & betrayal Bones of Sigmund Freuds dominating mother Bones of eagles hidden behind a dark cloud of sorrow & mourning Bones of Edgar Bergens talking wooden people Bones of finite spiritual concepts Bones of Dylan Thomas perpetually lamenting the coming of the night Bones of the monks of Tibet under enslavement & Chinese torture Bones of limits & bones of borders Bones of all forms Bones of you & bones of me Bones of the mansions of our decadence Bones of temptation & disaster Bones of the vertical & horizontal Bones of afterwhiles & later-ons Bones of tears shed for nothing that is truly real Bone of The Little Prince still looking for love, but there are no bones of love Bones of greed & gross gluttony Bones of flapping hands, without a clue, at the dawn of day Bones of Mickey Mantle limping into home plate at Yankee Stadium Bones of all languages & bones of The Tower of Babel Bones of coffins & concrete Bones of the smoldering ovens at Asti & Flossenburg Bones of bleak apologies made at the altar of emptiness Bones of Al Jolson in blackface Bones of mystics & bones of prophets Bones of Americas Reconstruction Bones of Walt Whitman chanting electric in the hospital wards of Washington, D.C. Bones of gamma rays & bones of gravity Bones of injustice & tyranny Bones of mushrooms & bones of LSD Bones of The Manassa Mauler, Jack Dempsey, still mauling Bones of 40 year old land mines still maiming & killing Bones of the give & take of flagrant pointlessness Bones of time & bones of space Bones of everything forgotten that never was Bones of compensation & lost wages Bones of peaceful swans swimming in a pond, but there are no bones of peace Bones of Socrates pulsating crystal remnants of hemlock Bones of compromise & bones of malicious theft Bones of abstract threats thrown at the face of pure innocence Bones of Lenny Bruce still satirizing hypocrisy Bones of poems sharp & penetrating as a dagger plunged in the heart of darkness Bones of tragedy & bones of blood suckers Bones of tulips once blossoming under a kitchen window Bones of frantic chaotic movement & bones of voices detached from sound Bones of deception & those eyes you couldnt read Bones of rage & stupidity Bones of sacrifice & bones of the absurdity of martyrdom Bones of curses which only curse the curser Bones of diamonds & bones of gold & topaz Bones of all the pimps & whores & junkies in downtown Los Angeles Bones of burden & responsibility Bones of Lord Byrons fist smashing through his plaster walls Bones of hunger Bones of starvation Bones of huge black hawks flying in other dimensions Bones of Ellis Island & bones of Alcatraz Bones of heroes & bones of cowards Bones of one hand clapping, but there are no bones of silence Bones of Tom Sawyer & Huck Finn & bones of Becky Thatcher Bones of sarcasm & one-upmanship Bones of Descartes & bones of mechanistic interpretations of nature Bones of mud & rain & snow & wind Bones of Romans & Mongols & Vikings Bones of censorship & bones of blacklisting Bones of the broken heart of Dalton Trumbo Bones of universities & bones of education Bones of meadowlarks & blue jays & bones of great horned owls Bones of the worshipping of idols & bones of polytheism Bones of seeming death Bones of hollowed eyes Bones of crocodiles eating their own bones in the Okefenokee Swamp Bones of cheap motel rooms & reeking bars Bones of all prey hunted & seized Bones of all the planets & stars & moons & suns in all creation Bones of the crust of earth & lithosphere Bones of & in the graveyards of the mind Bones of irreverent testaments & reams of data Bones of all perceptions Bones of inner festering corruption Bones of Pharaoh, King Cheops, piled up on the Khufu ship to the afterlife Bones of alienation & bones of hopelessness Bones of the Ice Age & bones of jungle fever Bones of European-Anglo-American brainwashing Bones of opposition & bones of separation Bones of instant gratification & bones of cowering sell-outs Bones of all accumulated knowledge Bones of physics & bones of robotics & bones of cyber-gymnastics Bones of literary trends Bones of elitism & bias Bones of judgment & bones of condemnation Bones of cornfields & bones of rice paddies & bones of wheat Bones of T.S. Eliot & bones of Franz Kafka Bones of James Joyce & bones of Albert Camus Bones of the old truck tire that hung from the sycamore tree Bones of hurricanes & tsunamis & bones of floods & tornadoes Bones of earthquakes & volcanic eruptions & bones of forest fires Bones of captivity & bones of shackles & bones of prisons Bones of shake & bones of rattle & bones of roll Bones of rappers & bones of scat singers Bones of Hank Williams & Tupac Shakur in the back seats of their Cadillacs Bones of the Burning Ring Of Fire Bones of selfishness & impatience Bones of throbbing streams of thoughts Bones of tossing & heaving & swaying down into a vast gully of confusion Bones of eunuchs & bones of venomous puncturing fangs Bones of yearning Bones of flux & bones of static Bones of doom & bones of despair Bones of outrageous utterances & bones of all ideas Bones of bedbugs & bones of fleas & bones of the beloved cockroach Bones of dialectics & bones of words flashed in neon across the fallen nation Bones of Atlantis Bones of submarines & battleships & bones of Flying Death Machines Bones of Beethovens deaf ears Bones of One Eyed Jacks fractured hand Bones of barricades & bones of the bloody streets of revolution Bones of all the plans of mice & men & bones of calculation Bones of John Steinbeck & bones of James Dean Bones of the withered id Bones of oil & bones of swinish trancelike consumers Bones of insatiable thirsts Bones of twilight & bones of dusk Bones of fault & bones of blame Bones of tigers & bones of jackals & bones of laughing hyenas Bones of the splinters in Helen of Troys beautiful ass Bones of the prime directive & bones of the mission accomplished Bones of shadowy cathedrals & churches of the communion of insecure self Bones of definition & bones of examination Bones of heroin & bones of meth & bones of cocaine Bones of energy & bones of demented fusion Bones of Nietzsche, in torment, embracing a whipped horse Bones of computers & bones of televisions Bones of your neighbor with his finger on the trigger Bones of the multi-layered assemblies of blindness Bones of Holden Caulfield & bones of Randle Patrick McMurphy Bones of Sebastian Dangerfield & bones of Don Quixote Bones of idle conversations & gossip & bones of pompous debates Bones of targets & bones of X marks the spot Bones of Dizzys puffed-out cheeks still blowing the utopian cool of jazz Bones of luxurious wealth & the ashes of paper money Bone of The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter & the bones of Carson McCullers Bones of Marco Polos intrepid footsteps through Asia Bones of desolation & bones of used cars in the junkyards of all our souls Bones of whoppers & bones of wonders Bones of spin & bones of media & bones of government control Bones of inharmonious mixtures of foulness Bones of movie stars adorned like baboons Bones of Eros Bones of cultures & bones of civilizations Bones of Zeus & bones of the heel of Achilles Bones of theories & bones of results Bones of continuous toil & laboring in the downpour of sweat & blood Bones of friends & bones of enemies Bones of disgust & bones of twisted cruelty Bones of stone & bones of blowing sand & dirt Bones of heart attacks & bones of cancer Bones of atoms & DNA Bones of vexation & bones of groans & bones of screaming Bones of pettiness Bones of gaudy colored statues & bones of altars Bones of the pit of the darkest darkness, but there are no bones of light
New Work by Robert Laughlin
The Best Reason Ever to Commit Suicide
You recognize the plot of the latest Pulitzer-winning novel
from an outline you once stuffed in a bottle
and threw into the sea.
Label on the Editor's Wastebasket
THAT UNDISCOVERED FOLDER FROM WHOSE BOURN NO MANUSCRIPT RETURNS
Oakland
To end this city's poverty and crime,
I recommend a tried and proven way:
Deport the people, one and all, in time
To start a colony from San Jose.
Upward Mobility
At feeding time, all flora's the domain
Of Kingdom Fauna, higher up the chain.
That's Nature's master plan, from its inception.
Too bad the Venus flytrap took exception.
DIRT NAP
By James Williams
"I am the Lord."
I am not.
I'm wholly visible to Him, while
I can see that which He created.
I'm a member of a planet that makes concrete to topple the dirt.
We place large and small slabs to our liking in dirt which
we hand-tamper.
The book clocks read of what
we've done with our time.
Adorning
our works with ourselves.
Luxury for temporary eternity to the highest bidder
whose fear has been placed away, hidden behind charitable donations.
Ticking away the curvature of each letter;
I read a dollar for every turn.
The depth of every bend asking
you or
me to ask
them
for more.
But more will not be given, merely 'cause it can't be.
The
donor of our doors, our windows is gravely ill or minus ill;
they've been replaced on a planet by blank.
Fill
her in.
Proclamations -
Lewis Gesner
I am the if- you-have-the-stomach-for-it, the bland and repetitive, mundane and ordinary-
I am the cleaning supply of faith -
I am the development of a set unchanging motif which goes through first initial frequent changes, that gradually narrows to a few variations and then becomes cemented in a fixed and permanent image -
I am that, that the appetite expects -
I am the still ocean that moves too slow to see in a moment but which makes objects seem to shift and move, per the tide -
I am a behavior which seems set but goes through jumps and unpredictable processes, but, only infrequently -
I am the observation of the person who thinks they can make branches and leaves sway in the breeze, with the power of the mind, and with a gentle passing of a hand -
I am the crazy recluse -
I am that, that is on the water, in a fog at night in a dory - I row my wife around in circles and close to the shore so her mind can wander - there is no horizon line - only a smooth blend from the water to the air -
I am the contours of the story that is hard had, and that fact in outlook, but fiction in particular -
I am that can not blend but mixes, I am the blended which can not mix -, I have two particular natures- they alternate like a relay switch -
I am the bird with the speedy heart, always looking for food, I am the shark with no motion in the gills- I should swim always -
Likewise, I am without reflection outside but all a hall of mirrors in my interior so what is to be reflected I am that is busy with questions away from answering -
I am today as I acted tomorrow, but yesterday, everything was changed -
I am the stumbler over the edge who is cushioned by the back of a fatty beast -
I am the flat surface which is as a crosscut and from matter to matter, much the same, but for its sheen and its density, but, the angle - is as if it has been cut for garments, the pool, the stone, the water's edge, the meeting of sky and land, or sky and water, of land approaching a tree line -
I am some one of many descriptions of a kind of movement required for a task, as part of a set of instructions for use of a manufactured object -
I am the projection of some thought idea directly in a mold making which presses matter into fabrication -
I am the tan funnel that oozes mist -
I am the sudden clusters of crows in the treetops -
I am a personification of nightfall, and the emerging of insects after the rain -
I am the talking animal from a child's nightmare -
I am the thing that wades into shallow water to collect a colorful piece of weathered glass - I am the broken lobster trap being used for a table on a porch -
I am the bark of a tree grown around a lightning strike -
I am many saved items, in drawer, in baskets, and in storage sheds -
I am the jar, and the tin box -
I am the remorse filled, and the emptied of impulse -
I am from waste that blossomed and is renowned now for beauty and fragrance -
I am correcting sharp mounds by rubbing them with an abrasive paper, and rounding their points -
I am subjecting vocal cords to sand and helium, and stroking rough legs of crickets to mild chemical solvents and oven cleaner -
I am, and I am the doing, not the being -
I am making a rumbling sound when I move my legs, like they are made out of old logs -
I am moving all of myself, to travel -
I am loud once then adjusting, I squeak, then holler -
I am breathing twice and three times then I group my counting of my breath in different sets as I continue to breathe -
I am a noisy rubber gasket with too much lubrication -
I am shaping a sweater of leaves and sap, that will attach to my skin and help in the incineration of my body when I am cremated -
I wait for advancement, I expect it -
I feel, through tea and coffee, a burrowing in my skull, and wonder, will my brain be eaten, and will it retain its color, or drift - and, will it nourish and even provide joy -
I am retaining all the water I am drinking, and the charcoal from every fire I have started in a stove or hearth -
I am looking at something beautiful, right now -
I have peace at this very moment -
I am singing made-up songs mixed with old advertisements - it is like feeling drunk with power battery -
I am what makes hands tremble - I am putting a child in her -
I am a long carved needle made out of balsa wood, and there is no purpose for its existence - I am pushing so that something is straining through something else in me like a filter -
I am imagining how a casket can be made from three liquids -
I am remembering , two lobsters on a cabin floor -
I am studying the heads of each nail in a box of nails - I am the sale with trade, the roast and the fry, and contrast of teak wood and tissue paper - I am the natural husband of my wife - I am glass plates shifting over each other until one falls - over the edge of another, and then, the many more that follow -
I am the development of scales for skin and overlapping shells protecting where my body creases who expose a fragile joint - I am, distress weak covering, and strong frame holding of my shape, so I am recognized - I am the unfamiliar steel hatch over a stairwell and cement steps into dirty basement and a branch outside that hangs low and drips dew onto the hatch in the morning, there is a circle of rust below the path of the drops -
I am the translation of an array of seven smells into ten movements of the wrist - I am the sickening before the health -
I am the swelling of a list growing over extended time but not acted on, responsive to the growth of need -
I am the in a saturated solution that remains when evaporation is complete -
I am as a warm leaf on a cold branch -
I am as unclean extension of the clean, away from cleansing -
I am the hole with a row of words that passes below on a paper strip to be read, that is the opening to your learning something new -
I am the expectation of answers to questions, and a bitter taste coming from a mucus gland but, enjoyed, as one would taste food -
I am that which can not stop one thing for another who freezes on interruption -
I am what is slowly taken and not replaced at once -
I am early in a ceremony, sudden distraction, talking uncontrollably -
I am lonely on a beach, lonely in a bookstore but, you come and I can concentrate on working -
I am the mover that has no plan but which is responsive to the moving of its blood -
I am the stillness of indecision, and the action of the soul within a complacent room -
I am the sandwiching of experience -
I am the runoff acids from an overflowing bath -
I am a chemical agent which hardens another liquid, and which causes others to continuously flow through rainbow colors -...
I am fine hairs that penetrate the skin and loosen the DNA so that a small seed may enter into it along its stem of bases -
I am a member of a small group of elements that can not mix -
I am stones buried at different depths in a shoreline mud -
I am a blade breaking off in a tree, which the tree will grow around, and put inside a secret chamber -
I am the light that warns a traveler a hole is in the path ahead -
I am a red roof, above a white ceiling -
I am that which has 2 arms, and transfers the action from one to the other in a graduation so the object of the action does not know -
I am the wedding of sweat and brain, of bacon and motor oil, of a willow branch and a white linen tunic -
I am the meeting and the hub on converging strings of conjunctions, or notched collars mounted in a line on their way to a rotating cylinder - I am the convergence of many stillness - equally one greatness activity -
I am that's' bowels become loosened in a bath -
I am pause, in standing, a break from rest, a painting of white against white -
I am rising water leaving lines of the wall and flooding the street and the river mouth -
I am that which takes control and that which in some times, makes an elder cry for no reason, and laugh for another -
I am the spray like a liquid shaped over a moment as the spread of a fan -
I am the pounding hard on something just to see it -
I am the feel of the dream in waking, the standing back from the presentation to the eye and the amazing amazement of the fantastical truth -
I am living a dream -
I am some energy in the world -
I am the port that has been misnamed and misunderstood as a brain and a mind -
I am the force that directs the movement of the plant, and vegetable decision making -
I am the glue mister- I am the feet of the cattle - I am the basket made of banded metal and threads of lead - I am the one hoping for a third foot so to balance better and for longer, using all three feet at once, or rotating the third with the use of two - I am that which is able for a normal life, the kernel of which is held in a storage facility - I am the dye in a turban, the same n a blanket - I am the means to swallow - I am the fat of the neck, the narrow neck and the muscular neck - I am the stuffing in the turkey, and the stuffing of the teddy bear - I am the feeling of dizziness - I am the excess of ego shaved off and packed into a mold, and made into a composite form, and used for building bridges - I am the west of threat, the east of appeasement - I am the south of something, the north of nothing - I am the difficulty standing after sitting - I am the container holding the pigment and an attached injector that responds to the tilted or tipped container, which from it releases a second matter, turning the pigment to the many items of desire - I am the turning of the light to the eye - I am the large portions of small angled bone mesh that grows over internal organs of various planet various dwellers - I am the song that turns my thought to a far place every time - I should see the screen over the square or cube space in front of my head that, if I moved my head the distance of one head, the cube would be exactly occupied - and after I see this screen, I should force some product from my head through it to stain as one does some chemical or food, and having done this, I should make some preparation to harden it, and use it for the head of a ritual axe, in some society and its celebration of a past -
I am growing away from myself - I am planning forward in a code of one thing representing another - I am feeling an inward drifting sensation, and a waxiness on the surface of my skin - and, I sensitivity to light- and, a rose color on my knees and elbows, and a muscle development of my jaw - and, a combination of sweat and skin oil that acts as a cleanser, such as working in the mechanism in a self-cleaning oven - I am a rolling picture of beauty, as conventionally conceived, taped to a toilet paper roll and spun rapidly so it shoots out like a New Year celebration - I am that began but that which coasts for a time, but that which needs to restart for the hillside it must climb - I am the roam of I idea over a flat scape, and the barb on its underside which catches on a cloth as on a traveler, and follows to some far space by skipping over the flats, which fold when flown above, and unfold on the landing, so much more in space has passed than thought - I am some fuzziness in both eyes, though one is more pronouncedly fuzzy than the other, and, even to look at from without, it shows, like a fur or winter coating - I am a line of purposes that stick up straight like quills - and, it is that, that shoves in deep to skin, and is hard to withdraw, and harder to withstand the pain of -
I am the paddling and the wind in sails, and then, the engine -, and, I am a progress of energies in advancing tapered shape inside the human interior - I am a magnetic and radioactive stitching, an ephemeral, ghost coat on a cobweb thin wire -
I am a believing in a cold producing heat -
I am a believer in a vacuum made using rubber lips and adhesive suction -
I am a short tooth in the front of a mouth, sitting beside one that pushes outward like a prong -
I am the lamppost at the end of the street, and the telephone pole at the beginning -
I am the seasoning in the sauce, the salt the add, the water you dilute with -
I am the flock of ducks that ride a wind stream above the lake -
I am the self statement of obvious ways, of translation and of economic and direct methods of performing -
I am the action of the elbow and the knee, and the distance between the eyes, made into an equation or simple ratio _...
I am the charming activity, or the story describing the past in a way that it was not -
I am the chewing of a food and passing of it chewed from one mouth to another -
I am what is frozen and chemically solidified from sitting unattended overnight, and from adjustment by invisible mechanics - I am the stolen and reclaimed -
I am a tool ready for use, used alternatively -
I am walking in dark without any light -
I am as if washed with soap and then, repeatedly washed without rinsing -
I am a presentation of walls on wheels, which I arrange all day long behind a locked door -
I am the drainage system and the irrigation system, and the shower -
I am the question that splays in many directions, and the continuous branching of each that covers the future -
I am the purpose of description for rituals leading to ecstatic states -
I am the one or two who trades with singers and cabinet makers for towels made from many different materials -
I am in the form of a hat -
I am can't see, can't fathom, can see, can absorb -
I am stillness, in a crumpled paper taken from a fist, - I am the still but tidal river, moving but not to short term perception -
I will take you to the place, I am the means for you -
I am the processing and the form, the figure in the ink and the fixture on the wall -
I am the narrow stream of choice on the plain of necessity and modified behavior -
I am the function of the icon -
I am of a collection, unsure -
I am the second rising of a spiritual master who has promised to return from death -
I am diverse tasks, half imposed upon me from outside, and half self imposed -
I am a difficult clutching of tools while wearing a kind of metal mitten -
I am wire threading around 40 degrees on the rim of a small hole in a balsa wood block freshly cut from a tree in a park -
I am, as if nothing happened before, but everything compressed into a moment -
I am the cloak that comforts and hides, that streamlines and misdirects and reveals intensions -
I dreamed I am a protective wash -
I am, that spinning smoke from a burning paper that is sucked up into a pipe -
I am a systematic offering, giving over in a set up, patterns generated from implied rules after a random choice has been made, in first attempts at performing a new function -
I am a new applied skill, what makes the tool before the task -
I am that which presses down on everything I see as if to press down on a wound -
I am not as if perfect -
I am, as if I was -
I am humble at the edge of my own will, and steer toward a point away from myself -
I am directed toward the middle half of the wave, and the middle of the octave -
I am something not water contained in the action, of rain -
I am the powered will and story -
I am the focused multi-facetted object which goes by gravity down a hill, but on a way of its choice -
I am in my wife's powerful imagination -
I am the last commitment of time to the spirit of creative art and the writing -
I am the glowing in the air which is an unexpected sun on a cloudy day -
I am as I was some time past -
I am the construction of a blockage against other things -
I am the sending and the receiving tone of a technology I don't comprehend -
I am known for reason and effect -
I am the awkward energy of the place of no place -, and, the irritation only I can feel beneath my skin -
I am that does not recognize a thing -
I am that which feels, of what is loved when we are fading -
I am that corrected choice of many parts -
I am the preparation of leaves for drying -
I am, as the wooden sticks with cups and sacks at their ends for catching wind, a thousand in rows on a drunk walk -
I am, the air as a statement of transparent layers, with intangible content -
I am the soul of cracked vases -
I am the fluid which advances under the door -
I am shocked length and various depth -
I am wide but not deep, or deep but not wide -
I am the reason of the story that influences, am that of the opening , am that of the personal responsibility, am that of the desire of the heart, and am that of the insect that is nesting in the hay -
I am that,, a corrosive curl of smoke as comes from some gland behind a worm fang, as it emits while burning, as the surface of the lake in glowing hot, and this draws out the crawling things, which dumb like moths will move toward against their own good, their fate -
I am as the king of wisdom, with a sandwich-board sign, who yells at carnivals, and sings philosophy -
I am such that lives for eggs, to eat all eggs, who wants most to become an egg, by eating up all eggs -
I am, one losing myself in a woman I married but am in our memories, in another country, thinking, where am I now -
I am as a man with a bag of acorns and a fan made out of sticks and fish skin -
I am the nervous condition related to fear of falling - I am nine times more liely to fall with these conditions -
I am the ink of the words, it is a thin but material necessity, even a communication has a substance -
I am the walking stack of dogmatic slogans and belief based definitions of words and means related to "feet" and a special, double edged jargon -
I am the replacement that never knows the predecessor -
I am the ground fruit that is left to fertilize its kin - I am the soul of the things that push their way through pavement -
I am the fill of the ballast holding canoes the size of continents buoyantly upright and easy to direct -
I am the invention of the clichι - and the creative mystery of the appropriation -
I am the first milk of twilight -
I am the second in line to receive a ration -
I am the stabilizer that is a lever for weight and a thickener for water, and a hole punch for the thin from paper to sheet metal -
I am the trusting thing -
I am the author who materializes the actors on the stage -
I am a confutation of fear and anger, of relocation and skin graft, of disturbed or agitated bird, and then like a sack of sand -
I am the wandering through wet cement and dry ceiling plaster -
I am the fixed sink, and the holder of a set of pebbles sorted by size and texture, bagged and vaulted for a later drive -
Forks are keeping down the worm,
Across the acre where I walked
When I was undescended, tip to tip and thick like sewer pipe,
Tongs, so heavy they can stand for eons
By their weight, and
Hold a thousand worms
Blackberry bushes grow
And once, my father's church where once
I rang the bell so heavy too,
So now, it rings but once,
A minister, his congregation shrinking
Preaches on the differences between,
My father's church is gone,
But blackberry bushes grow, still, we ate them, now -
I am knowing that -
I am, suspensions of the controller, and the diagonal attrition of a part held clear, free of oppressive fear - standing firm, unhad -
I am the lawn outside of a mountain retreat in deep night, with one light near a shrub, with one toad -
I am a squirrel in a field and a rabbit in the ground, and the man who escapes to do errands -
I am a giant horse fly, in the oversized room.
I am as the purist form of controlling, which has no limbs with which to act, so must appeal in some seductive way to reason -
I am the thinking nob that turns attention away from the problem and invents a private way -
I am the cautious quieter, who whispers so that others will whisper too -
I am the gas bubble forming inside a narrow pipe, which causes blending of species through a magical transformation of purpose -
I am toast blackened to charcoal -
I am the conductor of a current which goes through m skin and passes through six layers of tree bark and into a chrome can -
I am the ascending particles that rise to heaven when the balloons pop -
I am the tragic sensation that the average mentality has when confronted with an object image of itself -
I am the glass surface that covers a rough composite of stone wood and decomposing fish -
and forms a working surface for draftsmen -
I am as the consideration of one mind for an organization of joiners, and the rejection of their proposed plan - I am the wall a sarcasm using a statement to represent the opposite strikes and falls from -
I am the opening of the window that looks out over voluptuous acts in tableau -
I am as the consideration of three competitive humans, plotting to shame an animal by teaching it words associated with punishment and then, saying those words endlessly -
I am the subtle gesture that still covers broad space - I am the juicer joined with a rice popper, making exploding drinks -
I am the Dawn at dusk, awaiting the moonlit sun during the meteor shower -
I am the round peg shaved into paper thin portions, fried like dried fish in oil, jumping and turning, and I am the square opening that receives the dough made from mud and ground purple wheat and bull semen -
I am the multiple arrival of the cloaked figures wearing steal nets and carrying hatchets in side holsters -
And I am the arriving and the departure at once of the mechanical moose, designed to lure the flesh and blood of Old New England _...
I am the churning of the butter 'till it breaks into a brown ball which float in the churner like an upturned boat, with sea baked and shiny hull, and sounds of screams from inside -
I am the demand of the pressure sensitive simple folk, who know their ways, but succumb to the frosty glare of the self loving self loathing one of superior social standing -
I am the burning in the night, the heat that makes a black coal white - I am as the cloud of animal fat in the desert, rolls in and rains down oil and fire spatter -
I am the mounds of animal turds of spring -
I am the path pulled, the pulled path like toffee, I am the sense pushed against, I am the creased face as it rests on a pillow, I am the pillow of the rich, the stone of the needy -
I am a preparation that brings health to small areas on its application, but which causes atrophy when more broadly applied - I am a depository of mechanical equipment, levers and gears that may be unearthed from the ground where buried in metal canisters, they are the pillow allowing the fearful one to sleep at night -
I am the unprepared, and the one who lives on faith that there is no need to plot survival beyond an imagined devastation -
I am the repeated proclamations, which must be said again, and overstated -
I am as I was in childhood trusting, and before I knew the fear of falling -...
I am the returning before the learning -...
i am representative of the basic principle of Lower Consciousness -...
I am the drawn away down a gravity drain -...
i am the placid punctuation, the filling of the sensitive bladder that blocks retreat -...
I am the happiness which slips up under the eyelids and moves the brain spirit onto a conveyer - to reward -...
I am the multitude conditions required to turn a key and release a new pollen -...
I am a jar of juice that is boiled down from lifestyles across a wide range of land and water dwellers -...
I am the head on the stump that is still talking -...
I am aping something, which is a bad imitation of what I would do, so it is a circle -...
I am a part of the previous circle, but I am a part which has a thin wall, and might become an indentation and destroy the symmetry of the circle , and I become through a flowing through the wall core, the thicker part, which becomes more like a callous as the circle tries to role but rather it wobbles, but this leaves a great and variable impression as if several shoes on two feet, and this is coded and read at a meeting concerning the survival of the experimental spirit in future of art -...
I am as the knuckle that is holding me under a board on top of which is the pile of stones and to that is the added pressure of the hand -...
I am the illness of the paranoid skill that shifts my state of operation in a constant blur of insecurity -...
I am several leads that are tied to different self powered mechanisms, that pull me in many directions at the same time, applying different force as by intelligence and different motivations, as if players in a game who have different purposes than the game -...
I am the spitting onto a flat plane, which is hot and sends a steam that rises, then falls in a solidified ball and rolls in a pattern with others of these evaporations and constitutions -...
I am a subject, tied by fate to an object, then i am followed by another sentence -...
I am a requirement by moral code to feed a being I imagine is living underneath the floor - I must dig or pull up wood from the floor to make a space which can hold a small package of what I imagine to be a good food for the entity as I imagine it at the time I imagine it -...
I am as when I am done, dividing into thin streams of liquid that are like colored puke, with awkward smell that is a little bit like sex, and makes others uncomfortable or needing to leave the area -...
I am as if I was born as a board and was slowly turned back into tree, and then seed, and then back to previous tree, and then dirt, and what was formed before life -...
i am the halved seed, split along the half line and, producing half a life -...
I am, refrigeration of my ancestors, in me -...
I am, a block of stone and a wooden fence, and a post of fiber, and a hollow gourd -...I am as the log made of latex and poster paint, and a section of sidewalk cut and pasted onto a cotton linen nightdress, held up on the waitress by two cables covered by a satin fabric so to seem like simple straps on the dress, but, strong enough to hold the sidewalk on the dress, and, the waitress too is strong, and has 2 shoulders like the cables on a bridge, and this is how she seems to show no fatigue when she is walking in her rooms, and wearing this dress, in her evenings spent alone, and waiting, as she is the waitress -...
I am twelve stomachs as I have described many times, as the word pictures comes again and again in dreams and on the tip of my mind when I write with no words prepared, but draw the words out first without a word utterance inwardly -...
I am, where have I gone in being, asided so much I am present on a diagonal from the proclamation of my being in which I introduce myself -...?
I am thus the proclamation of a core of will, not inside a shell of pride, but hastened by a slicker skin, of scales that face begin, and coated with a protean jell, and on its top, an oil coming from begin the head and lubricating and streamlining the backward growing whole -...I am a savior of the many things which I have turned my back on in my life, that now I must appease -...
I am a thing which must engage the world outside, and hold it tight with dry fingers, the wet things that could slip between -...
i am the pocks of the armor into which you can
I am as the safety commission says, of pure spirit, in their terms, I have a clean record -...
I am as this plastic wrapped over breathing holes - and you should bury me -...
I am a thrust of pushed in pins to hold a drawing to a wall, and then a thrust of pushed in pins to hold a canvas and a rag flag to a wall -...
I am, am I, answered the question as I taped a piece of color to a glass window, so, the color is to hover in the air, and I am to see the scene beyond -...
I am frosted surfaces -...
I am the swelling of the lips, the lengthening of the canine teeth, and the extension of the hair at the nape of the neck that turns me from man to man plus -...
I am the bubbling of the tongue until it is a balloon and chokes not only my mouth but the mouths of all I encounter -...
I am the development of a gland that steers me toward magnetic fields, and then, another gland that steers me toward paintings of the Dutch masters, and then, a gland that draws lines in front of my eyes, and transforms shapes directly into an array of philosophical positions all of which threaten the stability of a place with common purpose, and introduce from its fringe, and widen it to flattening so it may surface coat many different cultural aspects, the unwanted and different and individuals who/ which have been placed outside so to preserve the form of the dominant thought that holds the frame of one group up against the tree on which it has been tacked or roped -...
I am the constant in the changing under and over -...
I am a slow to heat stove that heats a house slowly slowly slowly -...
I am the one singled out from a box of the stacked and the lined that is rejected, but after modification and physical adjustment, accepted as the same -...
I am as I imagined I might be, several years ago -
I am several roads meeting, two of them being under pressure (carbonated) -
I am a mutiny and civil war between organs -
I am a wonder of light through a window and absorbent dark blue shelf liner paper -
I am a list of material and fabricated objects -
I am as the subjugation of the nine enemies by the greater favor -
I am as I was born, from the out and in of the mouth of beasts -
I am starring at something out of reach -
I am the faηade of the church held up by scaffolding behind -
I am the punch in the face of ambush -
I am the recognition -
I am the warm paste -
I am the useful arches of the building, and the pads of paint and pigment -
I am the question of God's will, put to a simple mind -
I am the deterioration by secret means of the simple solution - I am the reduced sample plan to learning and the follow-up of forgetting -
I am the mask in the shady blue fogged rowing boat -
I am the attempt to impress as impression -
I hold vows and am promising -
I am the positive and unexpected blast escaping a hold with a side valve for vacuum -
I am going -
I am the paste -
