Wednesday, October 28, 2015


if you paid the ear to
silence if you laid
your fan to rest the
after fluid then ,the
fleece of pages spitting
sparks and gnats would
if voice were water
,calms the deadness in
your clouded shirt your
towered fog streaming f
from the windows

nostril's face or soundless breeze


choose ,o riot one ,in
labile balustrada que tu
cuerno se olvida not
remember will the chocolate
smeared across the wall
it is your toenail c lipper
pounding on the door a
chunk of grava que s
saboreas bajo la lengua

infoto te mueres infabulado


imbécil ,si veces en
cumbre ,la sierra in
decible te pronuncia
nombre ,beso de p
intura acrílica ,ác
ida que vuelve sobre
mi brazo para dor
mirse en el sobaco ,il
uminado por el tigre el

porcelana negra a fin de cuentas

Monday, October 26, 2015

the edge O

ton gue lad der er
mi me sh otless tur
d s teams on the
r oof yr ombl igo
gig gly in the g utter
¿por qué te comes el
intextino? ¿por qué
la l umbre inmestiza
te oscurece la cara?
foam y hambre ,run
g ants spell the
dandruff on yr hands



the hamburger A

ha baw soon re
dam aged lost the
shiny spoon yr
ch eek image s ought
yr squirrely as hole
,mitey dump vor
text ah laws di
gestion ~ crumb
ly ,windy face it
was ,a seed a
storm wings st
uffed beneath the
cara pace ~ ~ ~



the busy wind

l int s ky so f
âme le rien c'est
sleep 's u gar be
d's sw eat b ed's
wet w as for ks
und er she ets
wa sfo rks un der sh
sh eet

clou d s an whhheezzee

Wednesday, October 21, 2015


dog eye dog eye dog
eye dog eye dog eye
dog eye dog eye dog
eye dog eye dog eye
dog eye FOGG eye dog
eye dog eye dog eye
dog eye dog eye dog
eye dog eye dog eye
dog eye dog eye dog


hang up

to hear this message
spit don't fucking
call my throat a
sewer swirls with you
your ought to say
the turn of knife
reveals a pebble
shivers in your
blood is that your
mess your age of
c rackly con
sonants dribbling
down y our ch in

utter musings

dense the d ark c
old yr fin g ered l
eg g as fixiation s
cores yr leapard s
leep yr h owling

Monday, October 19, 2015


b ladder l imp on
flood yr bl oody
cou nter top yr
arm f lopped t
here if arm w ere
eggpl ant onym
in air yr b oiling o
il lusion b lent
into the spee ch
a c lod yr d amp
la p eels wh
en lap's not
sun k's not
f lip ulent nor
tw itchy h and
to floo r it's fell T

.nor louder leg than st

why faucets die

choose what nuts de
volved or detubation
if the chase were pre
lobotomized a
neck enhancement
when the fretted
voice never knew
the path a path
or path regur
gitated in yr emp
ty shoe the cho
ice returned emp
phatic c lock or
hamwich slot or
ball of sea or fur
nace for the bag
bag dangled in
your headache door

the lunch the lumpy mouth

the turquoise naked

my face the hum mu
ck s tick y in the
sullen fucking cross the
itchy stream's prim
ary erection fills
the grass where grass
was air or dribbled
ether of a minor leg a
slab where fucking
times the risen lustra
tion devised the sc
reaming beach of refu
gees or mercury wh
eezing in the breath
if breath a cup of
ants were wind lo
nging for the knives
rusty in a dist
ant library thick
with crickets and ins
criptions of fingery
death or fucking

While dreaming through
Ivan Argüelles' “The Classics”

Thursday, October 15, 2015

ffo ffo

please collapsant ,ru
nning on the forkf thru
sed y nubes pedradas
could you sh ape the
rain or inhalationex ,en
dusted frog fades beneath
yr bbed ,when bedd recr
acked if breath were
sp lit or out the tine
s ,the flexive floor you
drank yr eyes up off

if if

ch ch

cheaper sneeze ay so
ak now ledgement yr
sole with gum s ticky
where the cancer watch
sez door if door w
ere 4 o'clock and c
lock were t rain r
umbles far across a
river dry and sp
lashing was the k
notted speech you
made a ,spat
tered hand before
your face

eese eese


chew the red st one the r
ed ition st ink s ink in
to the s ánd ale la ca
bezona te h abla la
cacabeza te abre la
kiva crumbling beneath
yr desk it's fauce t
ime it's h our to c
hew the green st one the
g lanced s tone the
stone yr neck inhales
eey fforkk beneath b
lack cclay holds the
breath you lost the
brreathless sh ape yr
fog will take a rock
of air and nostril dis
appearance it's yr f
finger shore re grounded
en la ruina poblada de
tu ojo singular el ojo
plural te cae en el
basurero al pie de la
mesa ya comida o ya

Sunday, October 11, 2015

steep dust

fort gas p pee l the
be e storm flow
er's left ay high
ash sky yr tent
actif swoll stings
the p late seethe ,w
as sting redlented
off the ass or
clouded pants no
rope or rings
,rings the sky of
crows ,caulks up
rain's towering st
one roller on
the cl iff if
path's relengua
chose yr snore

shorn yr snore an sickle


la tuerca la torta el sonido espiralizante del
jamón bañado de escupitazos los es
cupitazos pronunciados en el techo el techo
tumbado del mundo perdido que al revés
se alza en la plaza mayor sobre un montón
de libros quequemados libros y libros ay
sílabas de humo que de mi boboca
burbujan un ruido empapado susurrante
de todas las lenguas que se me han perdido

y trago el pan ahogado

Thursday, October 8, 2015

porus & lexical

s un a sh adow kee
ps a legg tten tative
rock light s lid off o
ff the eedge de flect
ion corn ers b oil the
sleep glass boil the
be d's in version is
yr s kin's pert ruins
crumble in the lipless
cave or page eating
air or p age see s
ping through h air thr
u ta ch air la maison
du cul mination's d
ark photos of the
camera as it cl
atters on the floor yr
teeth bulging in an en
velope ceiling circles
down beneath your
feet the 7 directions
chaos in the center's
rain copulation there
is no other side the ot
her side's your falling
street your hand's the
rope swaying off the
cl iff

After Ivan Argüelles' El Sueño


please contam inate o
ashole st ream hee
sakes the sw eat
burbly on yr ton gue
's aid cold chain
was nodding yes no
dding nno ticiero
del homicidio mas
acre menos ma l
el árbol vvuelve con
su coro insectívoro
sees the amanimation
you copended sieze
the flooded rope
juts out yr mouth
o s lashing dream b
b reaks the left w
hat yyou rreboi
led inside yr sh
irt yr shi rT torn on dirty...
- James Joyce


el mar bajo la cama el
sueño bajo la cama el
grito de niebla bajo la ca
mama bajo la cama el tún
el que sube al cielo ba
jo la cama el humo el hor
no bajo la cama el la
berinto de un solo sendero
recto bajo la cama el
reloj de la cama escama
bajo la cama del coatl
olvidado que se acuerda
bajo la cama bajo la
cacama los pies mo
jados y los secos bajo
la cama tu gorra de
lluvia que sube del
mar babajo la cama b
ajo la cama bajo la
cima donde tus manos
se abren se cierran se
abren y se cierran se
cierran y se aaabren

Bajo el sueño del grito de
Ivan Argüelles

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

your face

yr fav ored nost
ril crowd ed s
lab abo ve yr
hea d a “n ice”
a ,flobby pill ow
ter cave yr
dun g negck in
hales , the g rit
ualulation lost
in all them trees
,sure feels leg
less or lessleg
walk fort h ours
the sand the
streaming dust

your gnats

the fair

the dream of duct tape was
the dream of someone sh
outing in the bedroom it
was the dream of a sink
brimming with kool-aid and
a dream of a fork with
your tongue on its tines
the dream of your tongue
was the dream of rabbits
quivering in a nursing home
and the dream of a moon
glowing in the wet grasses
where your head once
lay dreaming of the
crow crawking at the
edge of the brillo pad competition

JMB dreams a dream that is
not a dream of Bibiana Padilla Maltos

et her

d ust of m mneck I you
f lavored so lard the
p last er cr acks off
off 'n s kull k ill was
left yr k not a
gaz e st ream a
gaze ,if glass were
sky ,or dim e a c lock
.then wwind wwould
mine the f loor w
ould my leg in haled ah
mot es crowded out
me mm outh

...ignorada mano arroja...
- José Asunción Silva

Saturday, October 3, 2015



the hammer


come piedra



spoon log

flown hole the


fi fo


pared rojiza

gnaw ah lake

cuento bisabuélico

gravel tree

◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙

thou sands

the breath returns

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
2 Inexplicaciones of dreams of Bibiana Padilla Maltos

the bell mountain

the dream of the water slide is
the dream of closing your
eyes in a closet it's the
dream of jia wul wuhi the
devil's eye flickering in
the room beyond the room
is the dream of your
leg soaking in a bucket of pee

the shore face

the dream of bones is the
dream of your bed in a
cave high on a cliff where
the dream of femurs is the
dream of car exhaust
pooling in the garage and
the dream of a skull is the
dream of your favorite cat
sleeping on your face

3 cinquains 3

sweat hands
brushing the hair
hammer off the foot lint
exclamate in the line up to's
sheet fog

noise from the hair
I put my toes in a
hamster full of bees and ham
and slept

praying to the
softball under the bush
twigs are criss crossed in a stack for
dick wash

John M. Bennett & C. Mehrl Bennett
Sept. 17, 2015

Thursday, October 1, 2015

sin fondo

lip or ectomy in
sensa tez de hoja
inescrita off my
fflailing h and
amatique o cave
of dripping teeth
tongue a river fa
lling down a hole
it's where it's wasn't

...ever fl own...


yr ton gue squ alling in a
dit ch air ref lected
in's ssibilitic ant sp ray
ar mis depensamientos
slime around la piedra
verde asleep in my
mouth asleep in my
mou th anatique m
anger le sou th
ought less s lick
cros sed the lake t
here the fog

- M. Chal Chihuite


I was going down the
stairs I was going up
the stairs I was going
down my pile of books
the table bare I was
frozen on the steps the
dream of going down was
the dream of going up was
the dream of sssilence

On lut donc:

- George Perec
Más Inexplicaciones de los Sueños de Bibiana Padilla Maltos

el pulmón

el sueño del latir de un corazón
no puede ser el sueño de una
bicicleta oxidada en el mar
ni el sueño de la boca que
habla tostones de plátano macho
ni el sueño de la calavera de barro
ni tampoco el sueño del alfiler
de cristal que desaparece en tu
oreja hambrienta

the dawn

the dream of coffee is the
dream of a car engine
rumbling in a cup of
motor oil the oil the
dream of your stream
of thought sliding down
the back of your neck

the soon

el sueño del artefacto en una
tierra desconocida es el sueño
insoñable de tu dedo índice
sangrando como manguera
quizá la manguera sea el sueño
de tu voz al explicar al revés
las palmeras de plástico tiesas
al borde de la carretera que
sale de un pecho que nunca has conocido

Bucatini and Lint

Swiftly peeling off the skin the
lint eating playdough
was a bowl of bucatini and
dust pickled juices
spelling coffee in your hat
in the sludge that left
places for twine
rubbed against the grain to follow

John M. Bennett & Stacey Allam 2015