Saturday, December 20, 2014








whistler in the basement 

rumbler ,neck
ampersand
washes in the shadows
a weak pair of shirts

turning in the wind
knock on wood ,yr
twisted fork yr mou
th an sp linters yr

annual tea party in a
bathtub full of carp our
butts are raw kats framed 
by a glass bottom mirror


 

John M. Bennett & C. Mehrl Bennett




evacuar la panofobia

en el lunfardo neurológico where
the mountains played a part a
part of the sleepish book tri
cyclic teeth with a pillow
in my eye where gaterio quiere
decir cagarse en los colchones
stiff with polyphonic dirt and a
listing mind of gates bang
ing in the wind’s cuadro
phonic invoice saunters sin
ninguna modificación histológica
neither illegitimate syntax nor
melted stone placed at the
entrance of your historical
limits the lim its of your burning
pages ¡Cagarse!!! laboratorio que
cada uno lleva abajo in the
lilt fire’s deceptual in di gestion
)address of limits where something
white forms around the flittered
mouth(  what c age c latters in the
neigh borhood what thin rope
of sal iva del hombre con guarda
polvo blanco del comité or snake
lapping blackness toward the con
tour window’s isolation in the other
saus age world where dried mus
tard’s crackling on the walls a
center piece for hours the smoke
de bajo del chaleco an eternal
si lence


With waters and fog from Ivan Argüelles’
“ilion, lamda”, 2014; Jim Leftwich’s Six
Months Aint No Sentence, Book 95, 2014;
Omar Viñole’s El Hombre que se Depiló la
Ingle, 1900; and John M. Bennett’s flittering brain.

Friday, December 19, 2014


the slathered fist talks

pill blood pill blood pill
blood pill blood pill blood
pill blood pill blood pill
blood pill blood pill blood
pill blood  ..S.A.N.D.. blood pill
blood pill blood pill blood
pill blood pill blood pill
blood pill blood pill blood
pill blood pill blood pill

gritty window





a gatas por el comedor

un em budo sa
bor de hie lo
misismo da
do en gas
tado en la
bboca





don’t drink no coffee

sneeze h ay
er metido me
ar az úcar
ppeggajjoso
eyen my chee
k


 


you clean it up

t ouch the comb n
ex t hair’s cloudy
sky yr after-storm re
lented ,relentless b
ook dripping off the ch
air’s damp sea t I
said I said I said yr
)glow ered f og(   )in
in hails( (  (   (    (     (      (

 


jumped the fence

the su ited for
k ask et ym
ology of rab
bi ts k tis
tis sha pe
less ‘tis sh
apeless wall
owing in the
s ilky f ire

o rased the me
at mea  T

Wednesday, December 10, 2014





the sleeper’s ear

(root claw) telling ex
perience heaps fixed to
clouds y ese olvido t alks
that social (root cloud) me
diocrity grieves aloud the
clothes que no se ven ah
glass sidewalk reckless un
der the daggers entre la en
ajenación circling sleep rh
etoric from such spurned d
epths (root hair) de lo inper
ceptible flaming trashcans pro
test mil itarized gas oppression’s
mind film white is it a loft?  a
bismándose en el aire?  bro
ckcken lection ,shooting , man
nered eternity hacia un secreto
de pie armed domes tication ,s
idewalk “circling” in an inch of
rust (root shoe) en el vacío del
jacarandá whole cess wor ds di
rect the loam mound de una mel
ancolía mirrored flames spun the
math’s blank sp here desde la me
moria de la nada ref lex loca tions
fl ashing as bestos (root gun) be
tween the lines el mi smo anhelo
sube y sube t urned violence in t
he housing proj ection failed on
the r iver ban k (root ceiling) ,es
e silencio sin tiempo ,riots ,tel
evision uccess lifestyle’s aban
doned s laughter about the hea
vy worm y lo imposible de las
voces designed with indi fference’s
average written passion ,darkened
(root hole) en la más
cara ,consumptive medidas you
forgot to mail ,the veil media
falling apart plum meting like b
lack salt o una ceniza de pedrerías

the letter written spectacle
que solemos perder en el
río que no inmuniza


Made with parts from Jim Leftwich,
Six Months Aint No Sentence, Book 94, 2014;
Ivan Argüelles, “ilion , beta”, 2014; and
Juan L. Ortiz, La orilla que se abisma, 1970.