Wednesday, July 31, 2013

La Feria

cloud wind

cloud wind

particular layering of mortal
cross the abstorica blackest
words in the sentence center’s
smoking typewriter enigma
,backwards transformed again
ancient beginning in the zip
zoot suit ,required enamel my
sterious pyramid dressing
the archaic bog  )speed of
sweaty light(  lurking
plastic convulsions in a
single syllable blink shots
,the old library dimmer mirror
,socks ,floating flares in the
glass rooms stare at
“everything” ,eyes brooms
naked spaces in the
meat flushed tomb
stone’s anti-market base
ment update leading no
where ,spiral fetish in
sight motion’s sock ecosystem
your smutty clouds raving
sex secret convul sions
hermetic window reversible
analogies homemade loaf
coiled in the hour’s hungry
reductive games ,a
silent automobile matching
face stories sp lit a
wareness for the shadows’
aspirin closed groups glossy
tongues the next corner o
ver :complicit experiential
moaning in the lake’s pers
onal mud a page or
exotic labor ,identities
diving off the needle’s
class liberation labobroken
skirt dot dot dot for a
few...  “episode is epis
ode” rose door vastness

What I mumbled through Jim Leftwich’s
Six Months Aint No Sentence, Book 49, 2013;
& Ivan Argüelles’ “farther up the road”,
“LSD”, and “SHAKTI”, 2013

Monday, July 29, 2013


each it nunc  .t one
f lack I sp read out
side the sweaty man
sion where un frac un
lac une assiette me de
letreaban the end of
daze was sh
aking back the ,ladder
clod ,mute fork ,b
uns s ack...  ))inner neck
your flog watch((

where my murdered toe...
never floundered at the
door  .
...une assiette que devint son miroir...
- René Char 


nunca fonéticos ,mis pedos ,p
ido fuete para calmarme
las tripas un lente  .rumor
de tuerca absconded in yr
pillow with the charred
TV remote  )yr sausage(
a flaked beef bowl ,naide
habla  .inesencia ,flu
ttering antacid pill and yr
ball cap steak ,pito ,pen
dejo mío - que te re
galé con mi dedo de
...vaine et monotone ligne.
- Stéphane Mallarmé

used lunch

fucking flog water ,eh
,molt ,pine a head the
sinking b rain  .shoes ‘n
b read yr floaty ex e
jection was saw ,my
p late c loud its fool ig
snore boiling you  .just
nod out and finger
peas ,giggling round the
hamster c age  .your
effort farting in the
...reptile inviolé...
- Stéphane Mallarmé


inch” duck flabber lick
the phone  ng ng ng  yr
noose blob “le frisson de ma
nudité” )dit Stéphane( just
agiggly-like ,ralphing
through the chicken aisle
.Snakes and toilet paper !
)lean into the fog(  a
)brush gleams with snot
yr(  omphalos fulla cat
sup )))))how’d I find this
towel ?
This will explain.
- Blaster Al Ackerman

Monday, July 22, 2013

pole, mud


roller shirking ,sh
irk and shriek ,nor
marbles turn be
neath the dribbling
temple where X
balanque rubs his
spots and counts
his head a vase
coiling in the wind
that string of words
their purpose use
lessness and corn
stalking up the s
lopes where the
folding tongues
wander the wh
itened roads

...sacbé ,tatuaje
de las caderas...


calambres y voces
of the penis water
neck of the gate lás
tima fenetral tus
tumbas shaking
was the wind logo
rrhea and the ret
iculated arm wa
ndered through the
sheets yes foggy
nights and res
tive clouds thou
ghtless twitch
at the edge of dawn

it’s the ice death the
boiling stones

el mojado

engomar ,matiz ,falo
pormenorizado ,y ,fla
co el túnel de mi b
oca con sus huevos
funerarios las llamas
me limpian los pies
.furnace crackers ,b
ones lit up cracklings
of the skin en el fon
do de la sierra arti
ficial  ¡o fecalito que
a saltos sube los pel
daños!  explícame los
timbres los elotes exp
lícame el fin del
lago circular...

...emportant ma hache vers d’autres continents
- Benjamin Péret


laundered thru the shadow
or your doggèd focus ,of
,gristle ,slog-heavy an yr
leg ,chewed my bleak thin
neck filled with light  .y
our compacted bulb your
slept dog behind the d
oor ,through the watery
cave toward feathered
dawn ,arf  .baked an
drowsed ,murmuring in
the stool viscous on yr
buried bomb  .half w
alked half waked h
alf loo ked an fin
gered the drained th
umbs left in yr pocket est du pays d’à coté...
- René Char

Saturday, July 20, 2013


une nuit and more

une nuit

street’s shoe lung ,a m
ask what jiggles in the
light a “pumpkin fulla
ants” your leaking form
condensed  )like clouds(
stopped before the doll-
strung door  )snigg
ery in a pillowcase ,yr
flopping face  .....(

))the duck the crowd the
pencil chewed to a cud(((((

L’infini attaque mais un nuage suave.
- René Char


what wrap rustling in yr
leg a nap perhaps a
lens focused ants beneath
the knee just raise yr
g land and sp ray  .w
allets and w histles ,dogs
frying in the hall where
yr drippy thigh BAN
ET mot hs c luster in
the r oof e ating w hat ,t
he sca t   ere d  e g  g   s chambre c’est plein de fumée...
- Benjamin Péret


when the i nching skin f
oams the light ham dr
ibbles half yr socks f
olded in yr hat chain
the feet comb or dr
ink the lumpy sky the
tube off al stun yr
plunger s faucet air t
hen blink o fin o combu
stible ,corredor del pri
ncipio ,tus nalgas fon
éticas ,spreading the b
urning oil
                         yr leg

 ...sotil, sin dientes...
- Ramón López Velarde









culear & fence shock


“in the red hive of the
future” a sluggish bee  a   a
lengua doblada in the
stones beneath el zócalo’s
swirling skirts and calavera
suits tlahtolli ihuan pinotlahtolli
ocelotl forgetting the horses a
sun-sized flag slashes the
sky where the highway ends
in a sphere erections and
earwax in the library el
presidente slumbering on TV
un micrófono que le sueña en el
culo es el situacionismo tolteca
cielo gris con los gemelos insur
gentes el porvenir se abre se
cierra el fin que siempre em
pieza cara de Coatlicue como
perro amnésico como h;o;r;m;i;g;a;s
en el enjambre de la carnicería cir

Con artefactos de “in watery Tenochtitlan”
y “carniceria ilusion” de Ivan Argüelles

fence shock

incremental outer etch
other qui est semblable à
un insecte sur une salade
the gnot sporne other
noar morning or parch
sur l’abdomen le sein desséché
de sa mère a pie a pie
hacia el error sísmico de comer
celestial horseliver maladie
du cigare thing the body
revelations de las nalgas
des larmes de caoutchouc
furniture suburbia canal
de Panamá in a field des larmes
)de plus( d’hydrogène et cáncer
des canards sauvages reve
latio grinder populated by
interventions stuffed with
dolls le ruisseau solidifié
of trinkets des épinards cala
veras con lengua de chalchihuite
not lake are these but lake
l’eau ui upo ioop )even level
events(  comme un chien dans
la mer omo lake flows
papery aperturas en el
cuerpo singulante

With chunks from Jim Leftwich’s
Six Months Aint No Sentence, Book 48, 2013
Benjamin Péret, Le gran jeu, 1928


Wednesday, July 17, 2013


Four Poems

John M. Bennett


Interleaved with des mots from
four poems by
Frédérique Guétat-Liviani from
LE BANC DE GIOTTO, by Colas Baillieul,
Marseille: Fidel Anthelme X, 2013

July 15, 2013

pièces opaques

so the leg my shorts fu
lla ham sliced thin ‘n
slslippery woke to book “I”
drooled upon the dancing
tongue the sweaty radish
between my thighs peut-être
la pâleur des mains that she
something w rote  .a neck
.c’est la première fois  ?the
other leg and les pièces o
ppaques  .it was nothing it
was lurching up to grab
the chair  .l’esprit est vaq
uant but the sandwich
,ce doute ,surely dr
owning in the bathtub

Elle ne sait que faire de ses dix doigts.


peut-être plus exotique
my dripping steps a
round the radish pat
ch my thinning teeth
in l’excès de lumière
.“pour tuer le temps” I
ate the wrwrinkled b
b read et les insectes de
“quelques heures” ‘n sq
queezed the heads off f
irst her shirt soft
with meat I went
to the door l’odeur
et prégnant the ex
planation splattered
sur le mur du fond

...seul accès a l’exsangue...


that ttone of vvoice et la
mmaison est tturbulante her
shin my flagless foot la
table de l’indésiré where a
shoe smoulders at dawn
.she slept in the corners
,my growling thigh
exhalation’s adripped aux
murs ,au centre my face
breathes the interstice
des mots aaggrippés ,dead
grapes crushed beneath
the chairs laissées vacantes
for the light to chew its
ststicky ssilence

La chanson ne fait pas peur...

chambre obtuse

fire climbs the stairs and
my bloody neck elle
enterre les restes du
mobilier except the dog
blinking behind the door
.coughing and giggling in
side my shirt you lloo
kked inside a ,foaming
glass la fenêtre condamnée
.la liquidité ,forgetting
,objet de retenir yr anus
,fog ,un bras ,cold cuts
in the light le prochain
suspect where I felt
your ants sleeping
in my hair

Elle avale l’espace...