Phyllis Webb: The Spit And spit give me water for spit. Then give me a face. Solitary Confinement1 ―Phyllis Webb And spit broken glass for shards to speak give me water for spit. Gloss this mal du doute … never was spat out Then give me ash in time to witness its burn a face. To spite itself still 1. This section of Webb’s poem starts, “Let my tongue hang out / to remember the thirst for life. / Let my togue hang out / to deliver itself / of the bitter curd. / And spit / …”
garbage bag home to the lemon is the pie of the world we found the dollar bugs to beat the egg with the shimple pooh of that trying randall spaghetti yarn to marble a bacon to get the rice of the comma oink never a shield of the tomorrow egg the cosmic angle of the new day to be the people of the world a mite now of bexter triceratops the king of the ice the oven is a mirror of the sluppy time to crock
Levidrome In the aftermath of aftermaths there came a man of math who knew after-maths shtam-retfa wenk oho htam fo nam a emac ereht shtamertfa fo htamertfa eht ni and so it went dog begot god god begat dog looped pool-ed level reap level pear ton of (k)not(s) was (a) saw and so it is htam retfa emac ohw nam a saw ereht tub htamertfa rehtona ton saw ereht htamertfa eht fo gninrom eht ni in the morning of the aftermath there was not another aftermath but there was a man who came after math
Featherbone Hitched Hole when it comes to feet, liver, genitals, intestines, brains, my stomach drips over the rice bowl politely the absence of midair collisions raises citizens out of poverty and radishes maximize land use transmitted through cell phones soaked in pepper sauce gruesomely resist fate already eaten by worm larvae master shape shifters devoted to seaweed or a convenience to finger and spoon nonchalantly inspire awe through the intestinal track three stories high intended for export ambiguously
Dear Persians Dear Persians, I sit upon the periphery of a sofa while you conceal parlance in seagull-like laughter I didn’t get the joke no man is an island, except for the American of Persian descent the bad son, cousin, acquaintance who doesn’t deign to learn the language what are you saying why can’t you ask one question that I can answer in parlance all my own how is your writing, what do you want from life do you want from a glass of wine let me tell you about this Persian scholar or that poets who made Persian powerful come join us, ask me why I’m not smiling Dear Persians, why can’t you open your laughter and let me step inside but you just keep laughing and you tell me smile just keep laughing and I from move periphery to the floor while the laughter rises and you take to the dance floor reciting choruses all around me where else can I go but the floor at least it’s a space
in the letter V…
not having hands
like schooners, like
waves of Vs are steps
for the stripped strays
like V-poetries are shines
for folded eyes
V stares the woods down
“The V disease vows constancy”
through a glass…
from nothing smile
“present vows half-open
had never been heard of”
Good Day, Applicant
I was taking on immigration policy via song,
and hoping for a UNESCO compensation payment
But now my wounded nature is thinking of letting go
in advance of reading any more work, meanwhile
The winners of awards ceremonies are still filling out
my dance card with exclusive impressions
That reveal who really controls the secret plan:
lawnmowers on the border in search of free agency
Half a bookshelf of political theory tells me so,
the other now serves me as a standing desk
The old prizes? Complimentary brothel tickets,
a way for the of the future to say its cooler than yours
Yet I go on, saying: Dear Writer/Reporter/Blogger/
Freelancer, recording is easy: reminder, one month left
Augurs Out of a blue haze, crows fill sky with raucous pattern. Circling a tree, they settle on its branches. Hold out your hands, they urge, so we can divine if you live your life with the wild in your heart. My hands while reaching out keep pulling back.
September and October 2017 Great news, riot meeting Urgent in London- Tomorrow! We’re more Than just petitions. 9/10 internships in Asia go on sale Tonight! Welcome On board to our secret Weapon. What’s the Best city in Europe? Marx yo with squirrelly Heathrow wifi Can you smell BIRDFEED? Other Live essay 2 out for The kill. W2GKE5: LHR-ORY Stock up on international Friends before it’s too Late! Good news: Therapy all booked.
# asunder bard clarion! disabuse ere fulmination gorgonizes hamartia in juxtaposed kenosis, leaving manifold noisome oddments predating quixotry rending sensibilia thrumming under vortiginous welkin xenoglossy ycelpt zeitgeber!
One for the Border Force So maybe you take the chance & walk out across the sand & into the sea. Maybe they won’t notice you there among the dervish gulls, think you’re a rock or a resting seal. & even if they do they probably won’t care. Their job is to stop people from coming ashore, not to stop the malcontents from leaving. Just don’t turn a- round & try to come back. Croft / Craft Pertinence. Soft words hold little of it. Better to pick up stones to make your point & leave the phraseology to bricklayers. That’s what they do after all, the regular lines, off- set against each other, in natural cadence, a start / a finish to it all, looking for that last un- settled, previously unen- cumbered, piece of land.
MORTALITY I sight my demise and discover it deafening— the bastard blares out "Reconcile!"
the color of the comma
the clam shuffles the deck of business cards
a box of the same carousel juice
the secret sponge is a mirror of the cloud
speak to me when there is no dentist
when I am the laughing hand
when I am a peach of the standing warmth
police socks in the world while crumping a viola
we can see the forest of the james and that complete wolf
eek a math at it
the effort of the law in the weird salt and that was it
waiting for that crunch of the scotch ticket
drick litmus dropping drowse
that dracking house was a color of the three toes
to rose white a smaller wing
drive thru confessional, unframed
sure I’ve gotten away with a few infidelities
and sure a few got away from me too
in this life search to arrive at or at least epitomize a scripture
built freely from perceptions and fellow outsiders
most recently the discovery that all public transpo in milan is free or can be
—not even b/c you can’t pay but b/c you can’t find where to pay—
or once upon a long time ago copping a bag of dirt my first night in paris
or stealing from a field of weed in belize
totalling a bmv in pensacola
multiple nights in drag in new orleans, lifted purses full of stolen prescriptions
smoke rising from an epic joint on top of the temple of the lost world at sunset
—lemme tell you raul’s rose garden in belize city’s got alot of thorns
& you don’t want the mississippi treatment in orleans parish prison—
better off pissing on the panthéon after dine-n-dashing le select
successfully bribing the cops out of a dui in ecuador
or getting kicked out of the entire town of canoa
a blur of junk in jakarta—have I even been to jakarta?
certainly syringes in the ass in ustica
from maria my romanian nursemaid girlfriend
after taking a bends hit while cave diving
sure I’ve browned out in brooklyn
yawping ferlinghetti on a subway car
dedicated to all the vanished street performers
unknowingly in front of students
but considered it an evening lesson
all indication of insult
given and received
slurring beside my enduring buddy darren
which reminds me I could continue
definitely taunted mortality too many times to fully litany
taking the train to san sebastian with only
14 bottles of wine, a beach towel, and a bathing suit
after buying hashish in a cathedral confessional
security pursuit and eventual expulsion from a radiohead show
for refusing to quit sailing to the moon
insistent on hiking up a mtn then slipping off a 20 meter cliff
to a certain drunken demise
on the fracturing waves and crags below
before darren gave me the best shove I’ve ever received
yesterday a dutch emt asked me if I ever saved a life
and I told him well not technically
I’ve helped a friend or fellow diver with a few ascents and descents
prevented the use of some improperly used equipment
separated a few fights that may have escalated
and certainly fellated my licks along the way
or flocked the fuck away from trouble of every color that can be mixed
survival is its own impressionist masterpiece
all these little green and brown dots resembling the home of a park or bench
some scene made from making scenes or avoiding them
the getaway monet worth twenty million or more
a painstaking trophy of unsustainability
of throwing yourself away into the only world that was offered
Dear radioland, the circus has come
into my heart like moonlight
through enormous blossoms
in an apparent limitless capacity
for waking cold, dark, and beautiful.
I have been dreaming you too long,
my stormy flawless rhythm. Everything
is a turbulent applause when you are pretending
you are in the movies moving in a way
that only a simple flashback can move.
But I’m scared of dying alone, dying before you
read this. Still, I wish I were a painting,
that I would have risked being anything else.
Anything at all. Even the heaviness of breath.
Imagine if you and I _______
for several _______ in the ________
Would it ________ the way
we _________ together?
If ________ became _________ ,
possibilities of ________ would be
__________ a ruby diamond __________
O’ dearest dearest one _______, let us
_______ again, just so that we can
_________ until the ________ come
home to __________.
Then ________ can open ________
with _________ and _______ .
At least, by then _________ our _______
as all do shift __________
If our words do mean anything, _______ ,
they let them mean _______ can
Let them _______ once again how
______ the gap of ________ between us.
So, ________, please _______ fill in
these ________ with words of ________,
so that we may ________ once again
Trap or Someone Else’s Binaries
Into green report
as if following nervous
in fact green nipping
green into a minute fact
water or ruins
or concerned your enterprise
as green negative
on fire mine or frighten ten
or the last of the salt salt
as long as engineering
not dangerous salt
ocean bones salt bones salt bones
lips are glass, gold
leaves fall on her courtyard
not diseased, they are
a dance, dying
in the choreographed cracks of
for Yusef Lateef
loop through, follow
each leaf within a break
beat at pre-dawn’s come muscle
tongues the sphinx’s nose what e-
cho tumble branches through blissed
out heaven’s end gild, limit a wish with
ache? Levies of the mark rum succor. Nothing
asks for but a taste. So what. Go back? Not now,
nor ever so, what. Not now. Go back, ever you ever.
Fortunes for Forty
Act as if you don’t know the basil leaves in your beard won’t wash out, and others will follow suit.
The heart is heavy before the bending of knees.
There is healing in your immediate future.
Rest will come after work, and work stay after health. On three-day weekends, catch up.
Pick another fortune cookie in the form of THREE John Ashbery brownies.
Pictures of the sky reveal invisible nets thrown in both directions at once.
Unbelievable friends arrive to remind you of reasons for belief.
Forget it, in case they ask.
Your shame & monstrosity are others’ thrill rides. Snap out of it!
Another Phantom Antler
for Robert Grenier
All that WAS
you NOW know
is gone to
feed BACK, re-
IS it now
BAD as it
was? Tape STUCK
A cruel LOOP
REVELS to un-
ravel its RIVAL
WIDTH w/ Numero
SUN gets ON
the EYES &
IN the temple
FIRE rife in