Benji + I on broken + bowed guitar @ hArlemspace

Sounds like, I think, more than one instrument with reverb . . . Or mayb Im just trippin like I do...

hOw I care

I am taking care of yu
right now i am ready 2 care
for all living around + in me

yu may hav 2 trust
that i've much to say
all i ever ask to do is need

to ink forgiveness, make it concrete
- just now i cannot find a damn pen!

Im so sick of borrowing
tenderness from tha wolves.

Trust: that all of time is here
bumping against your perception
that love is yours, always has been

before tha words.

Trust my name not
me, somehow forget me, but know
that forgetting demands effort
is reparative but
compulsory -

Show, now, if it's love
for we're dead meat
substance-less and dis-
appeared, and worth forgetting.

In such expulsions
out of the nowhere of mind
presience reveals

trick from illusionist's nostalgia - hopping curious mammal
first blip, then ghosthood - haunting perceptability.

In this way, being forgettable
is a gift to + from
a life where we all will always be.

Not a shame tally

For Kay Merryweather

If you don't mind then I don't mind shamelessness, impressing

Upon space-time: do anything to stop that baby's crying!

Girl why you have to keep a list

minimalising our very soul's content,

casting less in bated-breath

than would in gasp or on respirator?

What is it we have yet to claim

from words + rhythm?

Where do we find strength to mean?

Everything besides the very thing

names a space, numbs body in joining

sense or else clashes with the scene.

Inevitability in which we revel:

Time + Ecstasy, not virtually, enfeeble.

Highcrimeslowflow

hIghcrimeslowflow

(start-point)

(:00) lOw-fi bye-bye!

(:19) hI-fi hi-hi!

(3:21) zOmbiepepperbattle

(7:56) rIchard simmons is embarrassed for yu

(10:48) frEestyle over drum (bare)

(11:40) frEestyle over drum (hard as nails)

(12:59) frEestyle over drum (ain't too proud to swallow)

To nurture

jEsse orations

jEsse, a precocious student and erudite mentor of mine, reading original compositions. Offscreen I direct him, but next time I'll let him flow his own ways. This was captured on webcam so please excuse tha staggering, just listen to this writer's words and you just may begin to-

Paul Baumann Collaboration @ hArlemspace 2

Here, student and mentor Paul Baumann is freestyling while I am deploying text from 'Infinity is running low.' This was shot during same workshop session as preceding post, at hArlemspace this summer. Thank you Paul for all your hard work. Let's keep it up! :)

Paul Baumann Collaboration @ hArlemspace 1

My student and mentor Paul Baumann + I are freestyling. This was shot during a workshop session at hArlemspace this summer. Thank you Paul for all your hard work. Let's keep it up! :)

iAmnoone

SEAN'S EVIL

I/we ain't no accident

these things just can't be

all here just is

or is and be

will you invite

purposeless, trivial

to supper table?

- last place I want to look

for mooring or dinner plate

if as squall

in glade, crow's shore, disused promenade

ship captain's diary: bide

eons planting anagrams.

Thy lot's in man.

Fowl and sin.

I see girls.

VEILS. LINES.

SIN'S ALIVE, LIVES.

SEAN'S EVIL.

It's funny

If you want me

here take me

first tell me

what is me?

Pointilism?

Sloughing-off me?

Is equilibrium

worth ten dollars?

I can't pay today.

I'm down for layman's

exhumation - don't

require no interpretation.

As I am drunk like me

you can trouble me

cos you're a lot like me

you please me

for momentary slieghs on;

to hell with the rest of me.

Just walls and forks and

- I have feet?!

Suck on them already.

Step into bleedy.

Isn't this funny? It isn't

funny. O - it's funny.

Anger is what makes america

I'm sorry to report

the weather is lovely

today. It's disgusting.

You should be sorry.

No matter how strenuously

you wade against

the stream, you can't help

but survive 'not even

merely' genius but in

genuflection, in

nighttime you thrive

in five seconds you get

outta my sight, and 'all

the asshole can say is goodbye?!'

Beginning with quote from Nina Simone

Most people don't want to live how they live

Yu don't know how lucky you are to be you

O are you sad? But you haven't forgotten how to be mad?

You can be mad or we can go shopping.

You can impress your date.

How much is it worth to you, your fate?

I saw you by the piano longing to play.

Was that here, right now, or just another day?

You had to get, I have to get away.

Maybe I'll make a record; maybe not.

Then from slow rhetoric, any and all listeners -

Don't weep, don't die. Let's just rot.

In the vanguard

Thats the final thing I had to say to yu

I was ready to say more but you weren't listening anyway

all I wanted to say to yu

and yeah bitch you best believe me

is that too much rain will make your garden die

too much water makes the river overflow

noone's even lookin' out for you

but you've got your eye on the third person to the right of you

it's not that I want you to look in that direction

at least that's what I'm going to say in the

cold nite when we gotta do

what we never wanted to do again

it wasn't about the third time you flew to the sun

it wasn't about you at all

it was about how you acted when there was others in the room

this even isn't about the volume

in the room drifting wafting down the stairs in the mid- to-early- evenin'

sound wafts like smoke thats why martinis and weed go so well together.

This aint

even about the

button-

down shirt

this shit

isn't

actually good

that's

why

people are

steppin'

all over

you.

Act like

you don't see the love in front of you

act like its time

to go home as if anyone will be waiting for you to get home

and there's a reason to have a home.

Just cos you ain't got noone there

you think that gives you the right

to force all the the sad

acquaintances in your life to swallow

the bullshit you carry around as carcass?

You aren't in the vanguard

you aren't even living in this city

at this time.

Go storytime

It's all got to come down to who you are being in the moment

in the morning of high regard

you get the floss while I get the sword

you go home

while I go board you go home

and I go hard

you go storytime

I go to bed

hungry

I garnish plate you then throw it against wall

it's not the hardest or most natural

daylight we can get for our

picture or your paintings

this best light of day,

it's really just the best we can get.

Infinity is running low

dont thank me

forsake me

dont invite me in

if yu think im worthy

ive failed clearly

to let yu go

forgive me NOT x 3

(or else)

i repeat myself

(dont) open your heart

i repeat myself

(dont) beg for more

(dont) let 'em go

we are all

happy whores

happily

tooting our horns

i repeat myself

(don't) open your heart

i repeat myself

i am your whore

i beg for more

infinite jest, infinite trust

infinity running low

Life ain't always a celebration. . .

Here is a map of our neighborhood. Click on the green house icon for link to pics of the flat, the building, and the surrounding neighborhood.

- 'Life ain't always a celebration/unless it is/this I can state with no hesittation: you deserve what you get.' - sS -

Two errata

The first error is performed even repeated throughout everyday discourse on trusted and unsuspecting acquaintances, partners, friends and probably it's best to avoid wielding this device in aggressively light-hearted interactions as the residual effects in that case are drastically divergent from these intended: to unnerve + to play dumb for one greatly admired, break into own expected/predictable/unidentifiable question/response/polite attention pattern abruptly + unannounced with articulations along the continuum of '. . . but yu wouldn't like me when I'm the one who's made mistake, as I quickly follow one mistake with many others, such as murder, assassination of the utmost foul endeavour, I could make you hurt for a short time or a long time, i could crush you, take your fate as a solicitor of wrath, the felicity in suffering. . . yes, I could definitely go for that sometime. . .' to 'don't you love raping young children?! in fact, this staircase we're passing thru currently is an ideal spot to drag limp body, halve them, and have your way - just as I plan to do with your body in due time. . .' all the while, intensifying and severing quietly - malevolently - identification your (preferably solitary) audience member has been allowed to believe in; sever these ever-so-briefly, disrupt your kindness but DO RETURN as perversely and in as unsettling a manner as possible even returning (after also decidedly-severing previous, recognizable, expected stances and mannerisms) your body to what is now made precious, preferred, a haven of sense: banter, deep-thought, kindness, and reverie.

Erring twice: Noble but orphaned, sliver is discovered by a crawler. Crawler at night - or in day bright - is swaying, inside. Confident, consistent waving leads crawler to lift. Lifting in rhythmic motion, ass then hands are as if wrung-up by marionette. This sliver is grasped between two powerful fingers. And sliver must be unwound, returned to fibrous sinew. Undoing. The crawler is a crawler no more, but now and then standing assayer. Sway, unwind, sugarcane. Even a small sliver of culture or pulp may take years to renew. It'll be worth it to undo man.

Northwoods-bound

. . . IF ON such a cold and rearing-up-on-hind-legs-day you should find yourself crass at tha lake:

Loosing control & Against medi(c)ation performance

Loosing control 'n' Against medi(c)ation

What did I

get myself into?

. . . Left palm, four left

digits, left

thumb, left me

blunt against banister

– I'm absolutely not

Did I really end

up down here

under the Manhattan

just for this?

That's just it;

there is no remainder

enjoined to divert

if a plan takes

grip straight thru

you – as if a person

as if even if a person

– merely freight, hedging

me (me) – when

it's cold outside

I never get to see

landmarks cosmo-policed

parody of touch;

no Queen's

every anything

willing to be argued

against, reasoned

with, ill-entangled

or resorted-to for meaning –

But steady. . . frays not,

rusts and crumbles not,

yet: these cables, bilevel decks, bedrock

Too-well ensured

integrity of whole

deny spontaneous

drive to disassemble?

If: not pancaked

nor gang-raped

otherwise intimidated

or ever made-eye-contact-with

then: this shore

bear no semblance to

'York' or we just not

that kind of city anymore

I can

not probably be

– ever have been –

here, now

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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How do you know. . .

how may you be

so certain?

entertain bliss

for a moment

or ignore us

imagine for just

imagine: anything

could come to an end

how can I risk, not doubt

that 'nothing' last forever?

that this is all that is

or need be

Pray – hold to

hold back your 'finish'

shiver, or grey

or cast in what is owned

I know, I know

seeming ≈ clutching-to

so moments appear fleeting

irreducible

too being a loss mourned

You could be, newbie

a lot less apt

to grasp the strangeness

of a sudden

nearing neck

yet instantly you know-

Bitch, it's me!

get over your demand

that what's here bestowed

is so precious as to

summon allegiance

reiteration, or study

defense of

very core is necessary but

we remain aimless, bound

scrawled like a visitor

onto Finity's wake. . .

. . .expectations of invitees

or else!: B.Y.O.

P.S.S. F.B.I.

U.S.A.W.O.L.

C.I.A.I.D.S.

L.S.D.N.A.

(O R U- O! AREN'T U

A ZOMBIE TOO?!

Homeless soon

Homeless soon

The things I could move myself to

speak about - they were the passion

of a moment, an unforgiven passing

we can't expect to have learned

anything about each other,

if this is the goal of Encounter

with stranger it's double dare-

triple catapult over a handshake,

brush off a bullet

that's why lady bugs crowd 'round my toe

okay okay it's not my toe,

stump growing into the plain

altogether I'm just

a pitiful stab at a tree

shot down in sapling stage

drug down by my weave.

Daylight would enhance those fragments just so.

A book for years

     

How to erase

I don't know why I have to erase, but I know how to. . .

While You Sing Your Pop Song

Why You Sing Your Pop
Song

Blank green branches
spin around in an unnaturally

white valley. Simply
while you, completed in your gaze, you

knew that you would be
sustained. This ion's what turns

if I relate the drifty
rocks within which the day would

position its antlers.
Because maybe it begins with a

tempoaray contract, and
is sometimes less tenuous if it stands for

passing by billboards,
while within all minerals with a penchant

for hitching rides in
raindrops, these few parachuted out

some of the hopes they
had chewed in their fully petrified

annual rings, except the
few that had already been excluded

in the highly groomed
library aisles that conclude

most mausoleums. You
were no longer tilting our blindness,

being calmied in a
toupee. The strands of your hair trembled,

Your fingers were shaky.
A fish sang in your air,
ad then you remembered something. Even
so you are

edgy in the rocks'
shrinkingly traslucant smokes, even so

the one badly made up of
ventriloquist's doll naming stars

outside the window
strains to see when the one

gentlemen caller flashes
across the viewfinder.

Paul
Baumann

Toroweap

Toroweap. To row; weap.
To reap; row.

To appear to row, to

reap. To wear rot or
tear torpor.

A pear or wet oar.
Were tower,

peat top. Trap part or
rear porter,

wear water wrap, weep
torpor, peat, rot.

To row wet oar, tear
rotor, eat pear.

Row to Toroweap.

Paul
Baumann

The window conveys

The window conveys the
enthusiasm of one of the

legs of the sun stepping
across. There is a little oval

halo of irridescence
around this mark of brawls.

In the gray haze just
above the gleam, representing

the featureless expanse
of an adjacent building, pass

the drained corpses of
sundry Sunday vehicles. Early

evening light, wan, a
little warm, quite servicable.

In the crosshatched,
elongated shadows of bicycle parts

crenelations throw a
comet's orbit against a hoodlum's

stubble. His face rests
its eyelts gingerly in a flowered

scarf. His fingers break
a crumbling floe over a river

of shuttered stores. A
garden hose is carried through

the mercury marches
grimacing around the boots. A

knitted, engorged rose
emerges from the skirt at the hip

as she bags for him a
breakfast which he

will nibble while passing
lobes flattened

against the insides of
gated windows.

Paul
Baumann

The pulse that verbs divest

The pulse that verbs
divest

The commotion in paper
cups

Where ageless insects
gaze at clouds

Is there an idea in these
scraps

a notion activated by the
eyes

by itself pushed on,
thinking?

You open your lips a bit
to the rim

feel the wave arrive,
warm, bubbly.

Has it settled again, the
theatre of a night sky?

The place was offered
within this zero.

Paul
Baumann

The clock speaks into a microphone

The clock speaks into a
microphone

A custodian hears a quick
rasp

Two waves push one
another

Are they both excited

You crunched my dream in
a shoebox

You robbed a bubble into
its hollow

why do they stop saying
those things

when they think

Some of their notes are
pails

Some of their fingers
chunks of ice

trying to remove a sky

for winners

The stars shift

over the hood

squeezing the planks

drying on the scaffold

The stars they tried to
pry

into the stars

not that they could move

a truss or a tank

wild enough for their
teams

We were always your team
and mine

They are still saying
them over now

as they say those stars

Two waves push one
another

Why do they stop saying
those things

Paul
Baumann

The best thing

The best thing about
gruesomely comic hippos

a phrase once heard, a
fire in itself,

a sort of mystery,
flimsy, repititious

and quite devoid,

all fragrant and green
and cool dark,

electric spontaniety
semi-hard boiled

with discontinuities in
fact highly linear

characters pouring a room
from eggs

then sinding them back,
underdone,

stabbed, rolled,
tuned-in,

their hand telling the
story -

the hippo's account of
the days drones on -

he wants to escape from
the suffocating merchant,

to get on a boat thwarted
for variety

having the right stamp

or getting into another
character,

hanging out in apartments
lacking air,

taking a bite of glass

before they found their
brand names

Paul
Baumann

The beach recognized for the crash

The beach recognized for
the crash

which piled into its
solace

The solace rooted in hiss
and tongues

The beach imagined of
windows

where horsemen hail each
other

I the drapery

flowing among blue walls

the drapery imagined of
windows

where acrobats are
brought to stand

Aren't I in it this time

The beach swells becore

another drapery

brings its roots

Yes, that's how it's
recognized

Haven't the feet washed
in

stretching the eyes under
the grass

When do I lean into
'drapery'

because someone expired
here

All of them are washing
into the nebula

All of them are needing
to stand

Paul
Baumann

Cramp-like coils in the evening

Cramp-like coils in the
evening

Some images puncture the
way new neather comes

within the same paragraph

Puncture them sighing,
somewhat swaying the boughs

A new century is just a
dusty shelf

its bare trees line the
converging walkway

Our breathing is not like
wings, chimney smoke

the same interspersed
buds

Each word the common
ground plants in itself

Paul
Baumann

Autoform

Autoform

pathfinder

mechanics

taurus

black circle hand.

full line

legacy

general civic

Acura

murano

sport

tacoma

caravan

odyssey

jetta

quest

lumina

tempo

Pilot

maxima

Automatic

sedona

explorer

sidekick

infiniti

Western star

Titan

Uplander

Tundra

Lincoln

El Dorado

cx-7

Rav 4

Savana

Highlander

Altima

all acess dental

mutual, all

access

perimeter

jewelry

world [hat]

beaver circle

bomber sticker

creative coming soon

ulex tinted glass

River Ridge comdomiium

(Bridge)

Aluminum door

'B0Ans!”

BOANS!OYE

Askiya

abbas

mayor y

totally free trucking

debit rewards

sox apparently

shoe chain

our secret

mutual neon

full spectrum

Bowery Ballroom

mutant

rest supply

white arrows

exclusive

lighting

Yee Fay Inc

Fung Lam Produce

Ting Ho Broccoli

Auto Service

Go East

888AMISAFE

The Good, The Bad &

The Ugly

La Esquire

Paul
Baumann