Friday, September 29, 2006

tokyograms

神道ってなに?

*****

ティsっじゃぱねせいsとたlちゃんせ

*****

drink deeply of this deeppresso
screams the light

*****

stalled it all day every day
writing in my head, only pleasure--
not enough of the connect because of its frequent displeasure

*****


think a disappear,
snake my head into the no

*****

come to,
your ob-scene isn't mine anymore

*****

the unsound city
guts you alive, still wants more

*****

it would have been noon all day
that day

*****

and there would have been so much more
to live/die for

*****

Omar's guitar, Cedric' voice, the band's transverberations--
my stomach turns at all the glory I renege

*****

forever found loss
cover over eternity

*****

now's the time I can be really immoderate--
always looked beyond life

*****

relight the sky this time
make it blind

*****

the suicide note I've been writing since birth

*****

all of these are what thou shalt not know
saith Satanarchrist

*****

evolutive convolutive involutive express
devolition

*****

all of the doors open themselves
and what

*****

that big de-generator
is one of two that never stop working

*****

such words
to shame

*****

all my philosophy equalled
sickness unto death

*****

I feel your care across the globe.
Sorry.

*****

this prayer is us

*****

the writing goes up

metalligrams



The fragmentary imperative, linked to the disaster. That there is, however, practically nothing disastrous to this disaster: this is surely what we must learn to think, without, perhaps, ever knowing it.
--Maurice Blanchot, The Writing of the Disaster


What are these songs
straining at sense--
you the consequence?
--Louis Zukofsky, Anew 10


jazzfish scrips & the benefits of failing eyes--
Analog Party in My Head Tonight!
You bring the sun.

*****

that stereo is a television--
sublimates distraction/discription

*****

dot all the t's, cross all the eyes--
shti

*****

to render the Cry unto the Keep--
It's Real! Tattoo the lionize, these economies of loss--

*****

like knowhat you no
--dot intercess--
like, yes

*****

we shake the keys, sing Night our way--
repeat, repeat--until She comes at last

*****

Become the steel bars. Wreak this habilitation
in the clef of atom to atom. And live.

*****

Now I want it to turn red.

*****

No--Master--Work

*****

I send it You resend I resend You it sounds like
"awum . . . wum"

*****

Until I burn to

*****

Ugly. And even if it is nothing but,
it is good.

*****

Immeasurable and I measure the marks of a mephistological
and might I say yeshualogical interval

*****

will the speaker blow for our disgustatory pleasure?--aaahhhh,
the smell of ozone wafts from the 12" cone, churns the gastric juices,
clears the palate to savor the shit of life

*****

Became deaf and
in-material

*****

do nothing for perfection's sake
many lovers

*****

Mine the Name--
theres god in them there cliffs

*****

that bag of cat-shit we meant to throw in the dumpster:
it bakes and festers in the car all day, goes everywhere we go

*****

alloy the screams of days' elide--
Again, Let's Forget Life

*****

That's Sick Fuck. The longer his hair grows, the more facile his fingers; hence deeper into Pentatonia--closer, closer to those elemental glyphs, the Pentagrammata: Jesus, Satan

*****

fingerpulse awake--
the beat leads

*****

glockenspiel incisors puncture cerebra,
incite the Every-Orifice

*****

hostile to yr Otherself, you strategize against that enemy--
you jamble it in bardo immersion; the Army of Otherselves mounts within

*****

I drum these lines via hyperbolesque:
jaghammer jazzoffications; distort designs, enrage time

*****

Slayer the day
Sunn O))) denight

*****

welcome this, the Molecular Tense

*****

Never was a hyperthesis improving so little real
such as the One the Web

*****
there at the origin/name of S/he Who Is Known as
the Demon of Poetry

*****

flagellelogram--
THAT'S what broke it--

*****

stare your acquisitions,
try to renew

*****

if only where wine urns flowed--
these metalligrams' communicative currency

*****

unnamable motives trickle like Milk of Magnesia
from the suture of I and Thou

*****

my naked corpse
and the requiem stains

*****

artillery the light
that glares this crisp, this skin

*****

yo odio--Yo/Dio

*****

you want a close-up of the foetus--only outline;
you want to hear its cry--only stirrings

*****

what's missing--It

*****

Do You Like It Weird? Why Is It So Heavy?
prick the lineprick the lineprick the lineprick the lineprick

*****

Word

*****

every time i plot

*****

last time i was here--
severed campaign

*****

the dis-stance--
Try As You Will--stays, goes

*****

Geezer, Ozzy, Tony, Bill
on the moon

*****

a new breed, a new level--
Bellerophonic belles-lettres plume velvet lies

*****

prefix, unset the old fix--
de-, un-, re-, ad- become postes/fixes--

*****

how many more belly-flops into
the abyss?

*****

matrix expands, seethes
as if who knew

*****

peel off the scabs of Time--
Revel8

*****

understood

*****

that sexish fingerblimp
abides the tight

*****

Entertain This Fuckin' Party
of Me

*****

recast the monument to the sidewinder--
it does not strike

*****

couldn't know

*****

the glint of the epic: and a single word you Spin ad infinitum
ergo nauseum

*****

all the best stuff comes heading any old place,
waiting for the stoplight to turn green.

*****

knee

*****

what I been doin'?

*****

all of it arrives,
dies

*****

999 passages aks discord 2 catch up
2 the surplus of hormones that weaponized unity

*****

what difference This Pretense
That?

*****

and when does its animals?

*****

drama:
nothing but slide

*****

five tones the Incessant Puke

*****

and into the epic
by dint of the glyph

*****

how many more white spots
until the Dawn?

*****

he has no time for anyone's nonsense but his own--
she? everyone's nonsense her own, their Right--

*****

Hey there, Sabato! Whoa!

*****

shaky knees, this plastic cup,
this girl, I want

*****

so much rhymes with "hell"; I
refuse to end

*****

who-where-you?
why refuse subjectification?

*****

mercurial gryphon

*****

dog-moon screamex & summer's mace--
what have I to be saved from?

*****

strangify It strangulates

*****

for this kind of thing you're too hungry--
best learn to survive on the rhizome

*****

emerge from this peace-cape--
en-disrupt the Corrodes

*****

they did a sonogram
and heard the monster screaming backwards

*****

no tree--no roots--exponentials X
pounds virtue--ferrous sparks

*****

crystallizing

*****

here in the bosom of Actinide Park--
radiate the scene--decompose me

*****

read any reference--Black's, Webster's, Guitar Grimoire, Qur'an--
cover to cover--then you'll know, brain

*****

your monothetic sightmare withers
by the very breath of that ultraphasiac

*****

I teach the new grammar in a little schoolhouse just over there;
the tiny young creatures lovingly abominate like Vesuviuscum

*****

building blocks after light

*****

ragethru fallopian tubes--
make Her the Mother of All Mothers

*****

just let that congeal over there

*****

maggot metallurges
my demi-apathy a dynamo

*****

meet me in the Straits of Taint

*****

sea that right time smoldering you--
the drowned ember--folderol

*****

such a scream, the eunuch in my head
who whoops "fuck this bullshit" all day, the Jack of Mars

*****

when every word is foreign,
including what I thought--
Avalanche

*****

enter the beast blast in this year of our mord, scammo domine;
subluxate that mange vamp--we're the Aces Slow--

******

be a fool like Don King--make it up--
your hypersexicalization will make U rich, famous, heard

*****

cherchez-moi en l'immanence demesne

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

on hearing mars volta's _amputechture_

lurch more, lurch better--
attack the immiserator
thru the wall of confused tears--
attack simply by remaining
your captivating and fucked-up self

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Tsvetaeva Was a Metal Poet

Check Marina's poem out. Metal as fuck going on a century ago:


The Demon In Me

The demon in me's not dead,
He's living, and well.
In the body as in a hold,
In the self as in a cell.
The world is but walls.
The exit's the axe.
("All the world's a stage,"
The actor prates.)
And that hobbling buffoon
Is no joker;
In the body as in glory,
In the body as in a toga.
May you live forever!
Cherish your life,
Only poets in bone
Are as in a lie.
No, my eloquent brothers,
We'll not have much fun,
In the body as with Father's
Dressing-gown on.
We deserve something better.
We wilt in the warm.
In the body as in a byre.
In the self as in a cauldron.
Marvels that perish
We don't collect.
In the body as in a marsh,
In the body as in a crypt.
In the body as in furthest
Exile. It blights.
In the body as in a secret,
In the body as in the vice
Of an iron mask.

Marina Ivanova Tsvetaeva

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

laugh the swoops
on "um" alight
for flits
and back
to ostinato's immodulate

trombone words
their surd our cause
celebrate cerebration
in glissolalic
koinoniac yelps

inherit the other's tongue--
despeak the wants

Friday, August 25, 2006

rivers of pixels
spill this revolution:
the pink noise
of the other's dream

spatters me

then thine & thee

until near all of us swim
what was once thought a stream of scabrous display,
but is more and more commonly considered
Today

Thursday, August 17, 2006

somewhen

my interests nest everyare
until the forgettings
cast all disrelief;
warm, I smother beneath
the actual's bristle

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

alpha zeta omega

I apprentice to the suicide victim--
rushthru platonic pharmakon--
we conjoin, thrill as we en-chime the echeas
of Modernitas Amphitheatre with that Old Discordia Concors--
twinned--
aghast
the Holocaust's living waters flow--
toll our copper's motif--
zizzle the Father's zygote--
Medicate the Dead--