Pure Pleasure & December to September & Subsequent to the Backend
Pure Pleasure
&
December
to September
&
Subsequent
to the Backend
Pure pleasure
1.
They
expressed an overall hedonic evaluation
Spread
out under the broadening branches
Clearly
the wind was wonderful
As
tethers flexed
We
emerged from a musty pocketbook
Along
with a satisfying lunch
Boredom, like
Christmas lights in July
Exuded
a superfluous and overlooked brilliance
They
are bad birds, and roost in the palace
Unraveling
our nests twig by strand
Puffing
on a pen, earpiece whispering pornography,
He
approached the students on the steps
In
the name of security, a penalty of lashes
Perhaps
exile to an underwater Jerusalem
The
sea staggers the ancient skyscrapers
Sepulchres
likewise flooded with emoluments
Leveling
up until no air
No
dirt no ruddy fat peasant faces squeezed into skinny jeans or presidential
jackets
But
everything is fine, a dust of ignorable toxicity
When
graphed appropriately, with supplemental contrasts
All
that is left to do is to go on living
It's
ignoble, yes, but not necessarily a lie
As
my tailor said, the shorter the horizon, the higher the hemline
He
speaks well, for an infidel
But
holds his license dear
Papers
please
For
my next vacation, some hell hole of suffering that revolves around me
It's
time to evolve! With light splashing
To
get started just dig a deep hole and scurry on in
2.
Middle-aged
and fit, they wade through a turquoise sea
The
sun and the salt relax
The
sexual grin and the laugh
Against
the featureless horizon
Creatures
that would drown or be devoured
Should
the jellyfish mass
Or
even a thyroid-swelled wave
But
they do deserve it, the balance of vacation
Light
surf on a green key
Behind
which attend overdressed natives
All
bets are off
When
they repeal everything
Removed
by an act of god
Without
popular rebellion
Diabetic
eels in syrup writhe
His
brother always the popular one
They
called troubled, wanting to sell out everything
Watch
them catch them unawares
Lunches
packed, the intelligence community
Debate
free will and sovereignty, theodicy
And
predestinatory grace. It is always now
For
the people that the people suffer
And
the suitcases are stuffed
Not
in some island haven -
But
here on earth, where we shovel it into your pocket, each and every
We
are the lucky ones
Who
survive innovation
Protected
by the rule of law, our founder
Leaves
bandits misguided, no real threat when lead astray
There
is no danger at all today
Perfectly
fitted clips for the incisors
Offer
up an electric zing
The
founder is pleased as we bite off his praise
Requited
with recondite chewing
Playing
hard within lush window coverings
The
neighbours suspecting nothing
3.
Involving
considerable technical difficulty,
As
in the relations between the sexes
He
was discharged to facility type 11
Identified
as death. Find himself alone among
A
forest of cabling and zipties
Unable
to move, the patient experienced
The
sensational elation
Of
the powerless and disinterested spectator
Was
it never more than this
Was
activity ever both possible and free from anxiety
Even
joyous, even weak as a simple song
They
put their hearts into the work so entirely
That
the pleasure they derived from it could be seen even in their eyes
The
dappled, the chestnut, and the bay
Flicking
them with the whip to show he was pleased with them
Having
afforded them this pleasure
He
relaxed into the mire
It's
always a pleasure to drink tea or have a bite to eat
With
a bureaucrat who's served his country well
Requiring
no motivation greater than
A
desk to sleep under, pensionable days
and
a series of small tasks accomplishable before perishing
And
now, the police have found the getaway
It’s
time to fly and say bye bye
Hasn't
it been delightful
December
to September
Dec.
12 2017
No fish burps –
The undesirable or
merely useless
or even innocent
among us
reproduce to
intervene
double down to get
between
fraught with danger,
I baked it myself
(because)
in the palace of
self-importance
is how we keep going
on
frosted blue
nose like a snowcone
sloshing
saying with all
sincerity, to a stranger,
“happy birthday”, and
having it received
by heart – the
Christian way (metaphysically)
beneath the sweet and
oily
is something I
learned today.
Being by nature an
ectomorph
the joyous belly
juggles fantastical
merely
a negotiation of
evisceration, dialectical end-state
of the clockmaker
refusal disallowed by
metabolism
and if I share it
with you
debt slavery rules
until forever
Dec. 21
it’s been that many
days
since the free play
of possibility
drizzled until sum
sum sum
somebody smells blood
& guts for a
chaser – we look into the stone
to look into the
dinosaur
we made a serious
impression of the comedian
look ma, no pants –
that’s my boy
but only half of him
is subsidized
or a single part –
words would be
continuously
beginning to delimit without
an end on the
vertiginous horizon –
ears on a dutchman,
oily boiling
the jews away (gave
them part
of the potatoes) and
avoided the shelling
in the east indies,
where
Timor mortis passed
over a young farmhand
it catches up –
eventually a yarn
before bedtime -
contagious
or ceratopsian, the
useful but decorative thrills
marking the species,
consistency
of pudding, it’s
family history
Jan. 4 2018
with no disturbing
ticking – needing some single
thing to fixate the
attention
her bored eyes
concealed an appeal
when come stormy
distractions
best friends must
part – legs, leverage
cantilever, canter,
buried tales
polyphony, my
boyfriend’s back, sugared
before inkling,
traumatized by tire
ironic comments
intimidated the lion
and the leastie of
the beasties
I remember morbidly
seeking the finite
before we met, and
the future
was a boring blue –
now it’s
numbers and
provocateurs, trolls
catching billy goats
– if only the evenings
were forevers
Jan. 9
on the underside, a
wrapper
inside a wrapper, sex
a lamp without heat
tucked inside a new
knitted bonnet
the emission horizon
send money
home
the conflict comes
from not thinking about conflict
otherwise, to be
polite, I’ll fight
in a frilly fantasy
& microwaved egg
all necessary
equipment for embarrassment
there’s no other
certainty
in my estimation
in this life
reduction to
sum sum sum
and what you can put
into you
that’d be nice, on a
cold day
send the package, USA
in this line
hard men wandering
Jan. 12
From China it came –
self-reliance!
I think I’ll stay,
said
No self-respecting
spinner, when the circus comes to town
Despite some
regrettable limitations
solidarity was
artfully embodied
in the texture of the
rug
there is more than
one immigrant garden
always and forever
with strawberries and
slugs
equally plump
how we learned to eat
and what
and who deserved to
share
future captains,
colleagues, comrades
wherever you imagine
yourself
you are imagined
Jan. 13
Dismantling the
apparatus
and then the house
comes down
becoming fresh
experts in something or another, demanding accountability
or the starry thrown
and awaiting it,
forgetting all demands
to smash everything
there’s salt on the
deck
and a line in your
hand
& promises to
trap in the sail
tricks for kicks
factor
substitutability
cronies rent
or a simple helping
hand, a word
a word when needed
from a disinterested
and neutral party
who loves you
as herself, or the
world
April 24 - Dad at 70
the spaces of the
work
the dark room – the
office
envelopes develop
into offspring
his characteristic
confinement
after delving out or
into the world
like and unlike they
compare
stuffed llamas and
their stripes
jenkins, the
molecular butler, or some forces unnameable
partitions the rivers
and there are two –
him and you
then, and later
both sides collapse
in argument
product or experience
up late working –
hanging out in parallel –
rising early, for the
son.
July 3
Those early figures
inaccurately sketched
become outliers
in dry concrete
pre-resignation never
appeals as a solution
to big bad wolves
every chance they
get, they get you
or die huffing
never forget, saving
means
pay for it your own
damn self
our benefits are
cheetos
and evenings to
ourselves
end couch slavery
vanquish compassion
with glory
lazy bones and lazy
eyes slowly roll
cross a country
open for business
and even if you don’t
really belong
and always wanted to
be a ballerina
we’ll trade with you
we’ll fit you in
evidence is mounting
like a pyramid of
whipped cream
the cherry on top
understands nothing
to be a success takes
more than it ever
gives
July 22 – Property
The lawnmower
divebombs
so slowly
Tigers sidestep their
wake
A girl yearns to
overstep
the porch’s edge
the mortar dust the
wind whisks
sun baking the paint
in my garden
somebody else’s
flowers
in my yard throng
the weeds of the
world
July 23
an airplane’s
flashing
sighted between
chimney and
drifting cloud
becoming
now saturated
to blanket
trickling down
on dogs padding
silently
while owners drag
their
flip-flopping feet
in no hurry
to complete
the day’s last
excercise
an observation
from within
the world
He needs to talk
about it to understand
what we can’t afford,
and when
the danger lies, it’s
an interesting policy question
the types of
negotiation, and handle on conventions
including wisdom by
subscription, written by anonymous
graduates of
prestigious institutions
you should earn more
lest ever your
poverty embarrass the block
or the bank refuse
and disown you to the state
magistrate or the
bugs who moved in here
a long time ago, on a
purchase plan
July 26
primitive in their
outlook
yet religion escapes
the criticism of the sharpened mind
emotional furniture
needing re-arranging
custom standard
across the trades
demanding perfection,
or propriety, in all things
as forests burn, less
than a daytrip away
the humble punchcard
– standard pattern
the same conversation
we just had floats
across backyards in
the invisible air -
the very
replicability
and ubiquity of the
factory – the three bones
in my hand worth
savoring
Aug. 3
so, you finally
managed a prolonged thought
it’s getting harder,
I’ll admit it
agreeing to a conventional banality in conversation
instead of grunts –
we are nasty people because
we get what we
want disappointment breeds
manners she knocked once before intruding on
the sabbat the stuffing of dreams
Aug. 9
the best of the
world’s best books cry mutiny
but fettering the
indignation – his brother a fiction
it was revealed to
titillation and dismay
amidst the confusion
power to execute
held clarity, but to
alleviate pain
black kettle no man
dared brew
notwithstanding the
monthly dews are extracted biennially
& compounded into
a pill taken with rain
so the venom of
discipline instills itself silently
& kisses of the
state sedate the broken bodies
Aug.13 - elegy #3
circa Bill Corbett
Asymptotics make my
head hurt
more customized
babble to make you compromised
he is approaching his
limit
a hairdresser
slightly off balance
with shears to last a
thousand years
you’ve got the wrong
celebrity, but a
reasonably accurate
performance of vicarious sympathy
that is, feelings so
removed
it was totally unlike
The Day Lady Died
and utterly likeable
in its derangement
I am speaking, of
course, of Nazi twitter
just like everyone
else,they are
coming to terms with
sugary fate
I stopped drinking it
when my dad died
not my real dad, he
stopped years before
and it’s the heart
that hurts more than the tongue
when the old language
tricks come so easy
everyone’s bored by
the insincerity
but not quite bored
to death
up-rent
to be unreliable
serpents chirping
all night long
chained to the female
as if gender followed
tracks
those who want to be loved
sometimes are
it was before
his purple robe
he hunches under
Aug. 17
“descendent of noble
Baz”
the joke is he was
a dog – irony of his
reign
lightly splattered
among giacondas
bookmarking the
territory
to invade what we
can’t afford
Aug. 26
but the cost of
landscaping
is sandwiches all
year long
he was unlike
thousands I’ve known
there’s no irony
after all
in the uniqueness of
a well-thumbed man
it rises from the
bottom of the lake
the past, a cancelled
prototype
but the opening
invites youth
a puzzle to solve for
the finality of it
the explication of
the artifact
its reconstruction
context, the emergence of pirates
fisherman’s plight,
declarer of unfitness dead
and violent clenching
tremors in the head
problems are solved
according type; those of society
are insoluble except
in spirits
Sept. 18
what would we have
been able to do
had we not done what
we did
the bank gets paid
and we occupy an asset
the dead poets are
not tragic, neither are we
capable citizens,
alive at the right time
fight time, or flight
time, or nap time
the maze of a life
time
unyielding to
expertise
7 ... 8 ... germinate
in pockets available
& of your own choosing
Sept. 20
or 5 ... 6 ... kick
the pricks
willing against the
way
but often, I soften
clogging the airways
to end up a haze – at
the utmost sphere
mere atmosphere
the pretty rhyme was
delicate
the ring still fit
Sept. 23
heat makes the oven
creak
time at home feels
strange
at this age, in a
brief childless window through which
descry new lawn,
garden yet to be planted
yard not yet truly
our own
stirred every four
minutes
collapse into the
technical
the cleaning, the
patching
the paying of the
bills,
the running of the
models
the arithmetic
the enumeration
the provisioning
not to mention
negotatiation
a burden that
follows, like a shadow
wherever, whatever
Sept. 28
snuffle snuffle oil
of truffle
houseplants tear up
for boys who lose
hanging’s not as
pretty as
locked into a closet
with teenage memorabilia
the sheerest
expressive manliness of America
buckets of blood and
muslin
& the letters
home, helpless inarticulate acquiescence
vanished like limbs
taken by the surgeon
disappointment of a
near miss vs. understanding
life as the stable
periphery
not punishment for
your evil ways, but
waiting for the bus
on a stormy day
and wetting your
pants, perhaps out of fear
just like everybody
else.
Subsequent to the Backend
Miasma
He broke in, shouting
death to all invaders
and those hospitable
let them in to
sojourn, not to dwell
& to hell with
your optics
& the cameras
showed everything
exactly as it
happened
I heard a voice one
day
which filled my head,
saying
“they want you dead”
and that was my
conversion
solidarity won’t
float
& we’re beyond
conversation
I’ve got nothing
and it’s all their
fault
It rained and each
day the men
looked a little more
wolfish
& the crowds a
little more like rats
the moon may have
contributed pollution
embassies,
sanctuaries
and the backyard
fences
could not check its
spread
through the air &
the imagination
Dreck
Out of the padlocked
tomb
return the fatal
delusions
“dead thoughts live
new and oddly bodied
things have learned
to walk that ought to crawl”
some find it
nourishing
nutty in flavour
& tone
“my kids have a nice
life, you know
what I mean? my house
is nice – but I’m fuckin’ poor!”
if you’re not safe in
the grocery store
rally behind me,
businessmen
for I shit silver
bullets
Probe
Fed hideous morsels
by soulless abstractions that should not exist
Well, when many
vespers pollinate
Cometh MS-13, and the
quite dead, but infested
city – yas girl, but
how, exactly, did you
escape from the
insectoid cocoon
& stumble home?
I’m just trying to understand
what you were wearing
– the slacks were
written off as
depreciation – a fair assessment
of their worth – ask
Forbes if you don’t
believe the cashier,
& throw the temps under the truck
this feels more like
a rape time grape vine than a hate crime
if you’re not safe in
the grocery store
we’re going line by
line through your false flag semaphore
left the van in the
swamp, where the gator-headed gods
reconnoitered the
offering – we’ll find the
answers we want in
the CAGR or kegger - and if it stinks, it’ll
still look like it
feels – good.
Ways and Means
Entering through some
marine conspiracy
unreached by revenue
officers and harbour police
eloquently repudiated
by the great mass of Syrians
to find if possible a
way to round them up
Huzzahs echoing in
their gutta-percha skulls
prosthetic arms
jerking skyward
The crowd broke into
the auditorium, smashing the benches
& compelling an
alteration of the playbill
The spice of pepper
spray remained outside
Inside the defender
of free societies
praised decency and
goodness, humans moving
humans in humane
graveyards of discarded
authenticities. He
planned to make plans
but various people
talking behind the scenes
flipped a coin on its
edge
defeating polling
with dark energy.
Astrologers affirmed
the existence of cilia
straightening
rigidly, eternally linking
us and our erstwhile
“friends”
the algebra understood
by a small cabal
who worked 120 hours
and bonkers went, slightly
taking medication
nightly, amidst
accusations of sexual
impropriety
not biodegradable,
but sustainable, plastic bricks
engineering the
atmosphere may seem queer
but it’s the 22nd
century, and we’re
hotter than a Saudi
whore, & more
fucked (& it’s
cheaper than an election)
whatever you think of
the orgies
remember, gunpowder
and sabbats
are equally
systematic means
of the will – that’s
the conjuror’s syllogism
she was the greatest _______
of all time
pathetic arms jerking
skyward
longer than her legs,
black-furred &
heaving her cannibal
bone, become tool
Blastoff
Perk up prick out not
in my back yard
buzz off stick out
not in my top drawer
stick up suck off not
in my junk house
feel of sniff out not
in my wheel well
call the developers
move the hospital to mars
grow op grown up more
weeds than people
soy’s no better who
feeds the bums
small time space
tomatoes
a billionaire cares
for hydroponic people
with cheeks spanking
red & plump
in 5 ... 4 ... 3 ...
2 ... 1 ... jump!
Pinch
Sit down – you are an
enemy
of the people –
just sit down.
He’s ticklish, when
his guard is down
capable of humour, or
at least a punchline
when the
investigation demands some sleight-of-hand
the institutional
barometer – a fiction – rigged
you may feel the
roaming fingers
in municipalities,
principalities, dominions
schools and cafés,
gatherings of four (or more)
in every industry and
garnished transaction
licensing
communications, privacy a joke
Look to your left and
to your right; two
of these things will
soon be disappearing.
He may not reach your
soul you say
But he’s got to
theirs – & that’s enough.
Prop
Position. There is a
man behind that cardboard cutout
Every possible
precaution has been taken
to make this rash
experiment a success
soul for lawn,
plywood and potash
Old Europe lined up
at the Oxygen bar
an offence against
decency, law, and your person
the triumphant return
and procession
of American
pragmatism along the open-ended trajectory
as California burns,
above and below the line
certain ceremonies
observed by sailors of all countries
& slaves in the
floating factories
fillet the
opportunity
into hyperbolas made
of tiny bones
radiating outward
from the site of the impact
against which we all
shall unite
one day out of sight
–
“All white,
Barbicane, all white.”