Tuesday, October 29, 2013

the house

upper ham in dented
,what if ended what the
thought ,outer spiel
,apt in habitation ,rai
se yr corn ,the t
umbler worn ,past
the bulb ,yr k
nife pissing off the
bone ,or speech ,a
crawling thing ,plo
tting toward the fork
,remembered ,but was
got .remaindered sore
,outer cloud ,the
nut half snored

inching ,lifting ,poured

Saturday, October 26, 2013

le rêve bibliographique

“loathsome antiquity” and’
picking the nose  e   e    e     e      e
,or sum ladder croa’
‘king from the toilet where yr
wallet dreams ,trans in
substantiates ,Q-Tips
lost 20 years ,bent wands
of dust and immemorial gig
gling ,splattered pages bro
ken windows smouldering
glue and string in the laby
rinthine knots where yr ash
en list’s folded inside yr eye
yr index ,dribbles ,was once
a shirt ,was once a knot
in the exliterate wind

un cheval
- René Magritte

the bibliothèque

meat duck ,played the fog
,a tendril ,smattered ,op
timatal ,soaked ,it’s
swoll-like ,enters ,tapes
the shadow off your
tongue what’s swallowed
,deknapped ,green and
hard ,the single pair
,beaked across the lawn
,where a towel grins ,and
yr nostril gapes like
sunset richly swerved
,it’s bouldered ,owlish
,numbered past the
milpa where yr s
hoes were lost ,in
apptitude ,for graining
,slotsided ,dim materia
folding in the index of
yr lexicon ,a box of
gravel filled with ink

...l’eau mort s’étame
D’une pellicule de plomb...
- Théophile Gautier


mi pedo te
pido mi
palmo te
pongo mi




st  a
baj  oj






nal  g




Tuesday, October 22, 2013

the churl

elefantino ,tu ,la cumbre ,the
hosing nostril ,ectoflagic wa
vering before the pond
donde la cabeza se h
undía o aire ectopl
ásmico ~ ~  born r
ain ,doubter hymn ~ ~
yr massif ears turned yr
high broke tooth п л
)spoon the meat you(
acequia seca ,con in
secto figurativo con sa
bor in meditado con
los sindientes de tu plan
histopolítico...  )across
the glinting lake a st
st ony shadow 0 0

fog and gravel

the swift

sw allowed the tongue ,wh
at’s gate of joyous fool’s ,a
towel of teeth ,were st
ones glistening in the
surf ,high clouds span
the eyen ate’s light un
packing ,the latches cc
lickked backk the shirts
could breathe and yr
shorts ,in the corners k
notted ,itching’s con
text ,contain their
foam ,or your flight
toward the cup raised
to’s fisted view with’s
spoon toward “heaven’s
throat” up pointed ,while
you ,folded down ,put
yr foot in yr shoe

...De su roca natal se precipita,
I mucha sal no solo en poco vaso...
- Luis de Góngora

the rules

my ablaundry tension
s torrid history retrained
like torta ahogada mi j
amón emético my tous
led eyebrow ,taut the br
eeze lo instructivo th
rashing in a dog gone hole



polofrantic ,cobwebbed ,wh
ere the flac intestine w
ithers like your swordfish
flopping slower on the beach
.where the thighs lay
down where the story tw
itches’ skin of flies

Sunday, October 20, 2013

lumpy throne

nuts and legs his foaming
kale bowl a dog clock
grinning on the wall
the pool pr eacher furls a
phids cluster on that h
airless “arm flaccid in yo
ur lap”

oh the whispering towels
o les cadavres jettés a la mer


Shoes and Lakes ¡  twice yam
mered at ,the slit stone face the
gum collected in yr ear Fog
and Sock !  )where the gristle in
your pocket grew its hair no(
ambiente clambinatorio ni e
bola giggling on the stove

the bun locker thick with mold

)))your foamy shirt your sp
lintered deck your cuad
rant spun in spheres(((

...sur des choses gluantes...
- Gustave Flaubert


dense lake waddles through
yr eye a drinking crow
...miles of sticky ash...  tu
cogote cuadrado como el
horizonte  )dit Vicente(
et ton soupir una pirámide
,unfocussed in the fog your
liver exhales  .shirtless
,yr skin bleached and st
arched ,saw the pickup
truck burning off the road
,bleachers and termites
.it’s your bloody comb

Et autour un peu d’eau
- Vicente Huidobro


occulate  .it his
toria del fermento
.forma  .lápiz cacósmico
my chin cheese’s rumor
atragantado ,stink of’s
highest water  I
saw it off ,eggs and
gristle ,kinda like an
eye with’s ball point
.)swaddled in the temp
tress dust yr(  glottis
sandwich ,fog and
plastic bags

- Vicente Huidobro

Thursday, October 17, 2013

the mail

“boil the hamster” towel a
pe sado drink the ddust
yr comb heaves be neat
h the d une mer w
as c offing in the suit shift
my am bled s pill c ream’s
swift tonnage ,a ge of sh ape
the coff in lob ster c
licks its eyen at you  )t
he fisted smoke the
salty glass(  ...so the
soup’s sublimation...
(yellow corns stud yr
turd)  what spins and
blows along the beach
...y la saltada piedra cruzó errante
hasta la esquina...
- José Lezama Lima

la tumba

ssoon the ststicky llint
,convected in the sheets ,w
here the h air an’s c latter
ed volition’s clammed ,for
re gurg and ex itation’s re
framed again ,so’s frame wi
ill shatter ,))the heaving clou
ds as witness wit hdrawn((
,damp tracing in the
dia ry when diarrhea’s
not ,rescripted ,self
erasured ,but remembered
in the shorts aflap
ping at the wind ,if
crowded in the closet’s
k not ,when lighter air
,or lighter’s ,approached
the opaque wad
,and licking ,into its
ddrifting fflame’s ,is bburst
...todos aquellos objectos adquirían
una dirección, una cantidad que se
movilizaba en una dirección...
- José Lezama Lima

the scent

chew chort sock  s  t
he duck eggs ththroated in
the stuck short ,shore with
torn bottles strewn ,yr p
lated yellow slick ,just st
and a while just b oil a
w ay ~ ~ ~   a wind talk
,s craping j aw across the
con crete f loor the sh
attered s hells ,miseria y
ándale ,dorm ant g
land tugs the sheets the
blue sky wrinkled in yr
palm  .in the absent
focus in the sty and
wandered hand in the
shirty yolk where the
iitchy ssoundd reretturnss

I’m sick of this...
fucking pretentious music.
- Ben Bennett

the bust

sure gloat the head the knock
lacquer an a grime sh sh
shocking of the neck clung
next  .in the floating back
in the ,salt skin a ,tr
ial foam or sagging
dog inglandular seething un
der the  bed cough yr nos
tril grist le and a “sweaty
canoe” where yr d

...rope of ,shuddered cave...

...dime to go