Fowl and sin

You can't control who wants you
any more than I
can unmake desirable to rooster every hen

love me
what's the use
in trying to forget the truth
or say it ain't so?

you know you do
so say you will
love me forever

what's clear to me
what sets me free
is not to have to say 'I do'

not one more season,
if consummation ekes out in camouflage
your well-earned revenge,
of departure from viridian-

140-character poems, 2

These series are all screenshots from my mobile devices, upon which collaborator and I exploit SMS technology's limited byte allowances.

 

140-character poems, 1

 These series are all screenshots from my mobile devices, upon which I exploit SMS technology's limited byte allowances. 

 

  

 

Exquisite Corpse at the Merryweather's, 2

Conclusion to the collaborative night with Rebecca Mark, Kay Merryweather, and Jesse Newman.

 

Exquisite Corpse at the Merryweather's,1

An evening with Rebecca Mark, Kay Merryweather, and Jesse Newman.

We matter

Does it even matter?
it do
does it even matter?
of course

do we even matter?
we do
we have no choice

we're here
we matter

does anything matter
to yu?
thats another string
i've yet to undo

is anything history?
it matters
get over forever
which happens to be

the only way is matter
yu b yu + ill b me
bring about the future -
its free

Against wasting

Is procrastination a viable destiny
alternately bawling in fear of go
then missing out on everything after seldom
prediction cycle's what-ifs fail as fantasy
in their doing then they are
kinda like if squatter-on-log
perched to share agog
assembles script parchment and zig-zaggery
stuffing pockets aching to be relieved
as it were: I didn't do it, did I?
What I came to be all about then
doing the ripped freed template
a light-year length of deploying
is what is (or was it, is?) necessary-just I be stammering
help me out her mind is will speak for her
recalled transistor still managed to broadcast
razzle-dazzle irony Velcro unzipping
sequence of creative delivery resolved to arrive
at least this far in timeline trusted to accord heathen glory
stowed currently away from binary
absent from the dominating starry
messenger that be dot matrix printouts
of observation circled and highlited and surrounded by
five-points - astronomers' data beknighted
mystery, fallacy, or misrecording
either way it's free as are
lightning rods. I fully expect to be returning fantastically
working merchandise to George's Star along with all the other shit
pouring out my slackened, yellow, jonesing maw
and recognise ferried behind conspicuously-
near and extra-menacing people-less craft, scarred from
inferno of waves flooring buds unindestructible
Captain and all the others terrified of death
- and not life, but living - went down with her
all except these velvet shimmering pomegranate seeds unnecessarily
crystals of pure cane juice my wife as current
clutching mama be lima bean y'all come join
my celibate craft scoured and singed by bile acids
someday I'll treat all humanity to thanksgiving
in my anal cavity, escorting assassin who done did it,
one who didn't did it, and also one other - some fag dressed like me.

I am for real

I don't know who I am
I don't know how life began
but I know: Love begins with me!

We be all about the humours
don't let the rumours take hold of your hand
your writing hand your fighting hand
make making-love your name brand

I don't deal with no 'what what'
I don't deal with no 'wish wish'
I don't deal with no 'want want'
I deal with what is, is
I deal with that real shit

I don't consume without research
girl you tryin to get hurt?
you tryin to hurt your kids?
take a look before you buy that shirt!

look before you buy, before you assert
your individuality-it ain't what you own
or how high up or down
those clowns/visionaries say they'll take your town

to the world stage-property, sanctity
consumability, criminality:
might be the downfall of our society
You hear that B.P.?
Catch that Morgan Stanley?
Feel me ancestors in Eternity?

...Forever, if ever: don't want my baby mama
dropping kids like I drop beats-to 'da feet'
misogynist bullshit
just cos you say she do

just cos you say it's true
now I don't wanna make you mad at me
but just cos you say it's true
that don't make it true you see

Just cos you say I do
be bowin down to sweep the street
then kiss your feet cos I like feeling meek
I'm happy knowing my place in stricture society

Sorry Mas'suh but that's some outdated dogma
your slingin on 42nd Street

Now I don't want no man mad at me
but you ain't no kind of father – be
hanging around with girls their daughters
hate – I know all about prosperity and shit...

You can count on me
forever to be mendicant

but just cos you say that's true
that don't make it true – I'd be
happier with almost anyone besides you
with their finger on the button

Won't have my baby boy my brother's little girl
my sister my mother my cousin her lover
my next of kin or stranger in a strange land

getting rolled on a globe powered by
hateful white man's hypocrisies
or their finger's on the button!

Call and response

I've seen the walls and heard the walls I listen to the walls and I've heard the pipes contained within the walls the water coursing through the pipes and pipes jangling within the walls I've heard and seen the metal measuring cups on a metal loop strung on a nail on the wall behind which are the pipes and the water racing through the pipes as someone showers in flat above

I've lit the high performance front the rear the high performance rear the front sent the gas sparking aflame as the stove went rumbling below the apartment I pose my head a-palm my forehead frozen in sky I hear the rumble I hear the sky rumble from an airplane it's the lowest allowable height I'm sure the measures enforced so strictly the measuring so strict the sky so full of air

not like before before the sky was burnt behind the sky and burning and the burning sky and the lover telling the lover a lover's lie a kind lie a lie meant to raise the wishes so high because the false consort always aims too high atop the nearest the highest or the lowest atop a hill is no place to cavort, lovers

I've heard yu cry yu lovers don't yu be bothered by the lovers on the other side the lovers on the inside of yr bodies as the residue of love leaves in long streams don't be hidden by yu lovers don't be hidden by each other

I have seen the taptaptapping of the wall the rapraprapping of the men clearly discernible in the navy yard and just beyond its fences one can see and hear the sky in it is booming the sounds of lovers leaping

I heard the disinterestedness in a voice and I heard the man saying he wasn't interested but not in so many words as to be boring but I'd rather be boring than be bored for I've known the man is there before merely by hearing the words he says and the sensation of being kept under his thumb

I've heard behind the sensations G-d the unfathomable attendence of men to the living tho the living don't want anything to do with the deity and it matters not to him or them if I'm here doing whatever the hell it is I'm doing

Reduction of zero

I'm not gonna be there
spying on yu kiss the ground
I'm not even here right now
so don't be scared
- or be afraid, cos I don't even care -
hey wait I do kinda dig restraint
but I'm so far gone
I'm over convenient kisses
let's seal the deal
Will I feel anything?
Hel' to the fire -
feet, hands, and such
truncated effigy
I'm body for hire
come to, come to Love's retiring
which ain't no kind of circumstance
to be whirled frenzily into penultimate
not at all like desire...
All I need is love!

Free is doom, fundamentalisms bely

Fear the dumbing-glory of fundamentalisms'
provisions! Hardeningly, knotted, wed
to minstrel's brow as to apprentice's fiefdom
You did know we're squatting in some Duke's hue and parade?
We live without booze or need for shopping cart - we po'
blossoms are cheery when our dustbowl lemming's beatific
power doubles back upon unleashing. All any courtships may aspire
to impress and stuff as nourishment into sugar cubes, is unbidden pressure
upon deaf boy's flagella - Come out, for whatever intoxicant is revolutionary
as was textbook or isn't Kabbalah, as was pumice-y man
adrift - left to forage, who soon bore need
of enough and 'too many' seethed while
senses made collectable Celebration - as if merely to break ground
amounts to snuff cinema; like petrol is in my constitution.
Like, I know what is expected of BP I am on pulpit.
Drop enshrouded in smog's kumquat
a dram, a fiend, a pound of flesh, your right to abortion
like I stand here today to interrogate not necessarily ameliorate
lance wielded so heavily we let 'er rip despite absence of verifiable dAmocle's sword
or thread.  We may be in no need, in deep shit, insignificant as cherry pit
but stack up your thrones high because we muster, we live: Our investment
is baby doll's meddling in the dollhouse. Arrest your merriment
(virgins ain't so hot in the sack, in heaven or not)!

Urbanists

If'n yu wish to extoll surprise or
dissent today, present yr grocery bill
at this time. Fissure in conciseness - I belch, ground
heron's nest into palimpsest of
toast, grits, and two scrambled eggs.
If in-kind donations must prove
rousingly-combustible artist's bum is seduce-able: Pay
the near-sighted man already, strap-on his desperate
lampooning/pleading to be gay-bashed, raped, true-blue to kin.
Harpooning and rapt, Saint Vitus' is no dance - self-diagnosers
trudge pridefully thru forest and glen.
Hade's legion was sated with just one mother
unmourned-by or out-living her kids, which
may cause future ancestors or selves to expire first
of an always-already-dying love again.

Gravity sucks

Success is a lathe
 I feel contempt within lust
gravely at peace, consume Eros
speech scissors incantatory
ego, lush and alight encumbrance
of particulate essence/artifacts lifted from scene
asterisk parentheses - make liturgical caveats
(for what is abuse, where else but in
deforestation: commandment for psychology
laureates: books remind sometimes of webworld
tho not as durable or utilitarian
especially poem-books and artist's journals
chronicles of attended/yet-unfulfilled wishes?)
grandly approximating Love's assault upon self
and seizure as of mastery
even daring condescend to lordly pulse
in concept if not in grain.
So it is for anyone in grips of
possessing - too-cursive free will insinuating as-faint/exact
as gravity sucks til all is plunder.

Is a lie undefended...

Is a lie undefended as harmless
as a truth undefended is
picaresque? The only
tether to Mother earth
is getting a feeling.
Let the feel of a threat
to your integrity move
you, but don't dwell
inside yourself, for I'll
always be looking out
to connect again without
another lover or my brother
for study of self is far
more dignity than ever the
stitcher (who made us up
to be free) intended
and that's why everyone is odd-looking...

Stay bright/Treat me right

The world is mean I mean.

Blasphemous prayer

  
    A path to heaven is guaranteed (yes, even for
those who give to and help others
each day for no condemnation, church, dictate
or capability to pray
will save your soul if you pass over G-d
cold and desperate and begging for spare change.

Let she who hates ignores or places devotion to faith
      over child or lover or parent or friend
know the blood of the savior is on your hands
for He dies in you when venom and false justification
you spew without.
Once you've learned that our one task on earth is to
help, can you choose not to? 
 

Gravity sucks freestyle at poetry reading, 2

Gravity sucks freestyle at poetry reading, 1

 

 This is how arms enclasp
this is pushing inward
this is how one pushes and sways
this is how they fell this is
how we grow - this is heavy shit
this is how you became a dead man - this is how
you rushed her way
this is the lake house/this is
my lake house
this is exactly how you get to my lake house
This is how you get
to the road to get to
the lake house this
is how you turn on
the car this is how
you get out the
door I don't know
how to get out the
door she said
this is how she said we
did it last year
this is how to close your eyes
    on stab
this is how to lock the door
this is how to stab
this is how you survive
a stabbing kiss the
victim don't be
the victim.
this is how this how the
        world should end
this is how we can already see it.

Gravity sucks

Jesse Newman: 2010

Jesse Newman: 2010
1 July - 31 July

Opening Reception 1 July 6p-8p

hArlemspace is an alternative performance and gallery space in Harlem dedicated to providing a venue for collective and spontaneous production. For examples of collaborative and solo work at hArlemspace please see suffernotindoubt.blogspot.com.

hArlemspace is at 1838 Seventh Avenue, #6.

Hours are by appointment only.

For information or enquiries, please send message to 3478619715 or suffernotindoubt@gmail.com

Mother

          Mother

currently lives in

a space I did

not grow up, yet

I'm supposed to

call it home? I

haven't any home

here except the one I bring

I haven't anything

worth forgetting

because I live

in the 'now'

everlasting akin

to moment sedentary

in stupor glacier

barreled toward me in Winnebago

it wasn't long before I assume

he lives here, it doesn't take

nerve gas to pique my sense

to forgetting addresses a face

particles of clothing

I never been here before

I didn't use to pull the trick

you say you pull you card shark

driving metro bus from upper deck

forced-horizon in eye is only portentous

as ever for an instant

for in day while men and feral foragers

rest, reverie unifies nite.

Class crown bequeathes to landfill

adolescent substance oozy glory

in bronze harkens shakes and peeks

at globe on which we crouch

fearing G-d from under sheets

worn once as ghost costume

wait that's a movie recall not memory

all soul's day however is actual

in our space recognizable

he kisses grimy underbelly of calendary

fearing not the donning of boxers or briefs

shifts in genomic trajectory or politic

flanks 'Semper fi' with new eaglets

who'll each collapse of heart defeat

I kissed a boy once breathing

off swallowing disembowelment

no longer in shadow

capitalize stranger lower untested-aspirations

because of frailty, vitality

identification metamorphosises Unknown to Lover

I choose to let words bear-down

on neck blushing my purple

bereft of fortnight to plan and wallow

love shoulders hard hats against

down-pressing urgency

I cast you uninseminated embryo

who would be my baby boy

at last to realm of possibility, forever.

Call me sometime the way your mother

incites all her rabble to supper table

glowy in setting still of December

sometimes you convened only once per day

in early morn after being retrieved

from babysitter's down the street.

Neanderthals didn't find each other dwelling in huts

or even look to familiar without bullet

failing to own the ground onto which was spat

and grown-upon - diver for pearls in dark of

harboring poachers: that's not so bad

unless it is, and it is

sign of dwindling property value

window to dental services that represents

attempt by owner of said edifice

at boarding-up shot-out frosted glass

but merely points out lack of

shimmering newness anywhere on block

I'd have left it alone

the heat might get out and the ninjas

gain entry surreptitiously

but it's got character

and flora overtaking ivy ensconsed

in constitution of el barrio

is it true I disappear

if aren't recalled by anyone

is it so I die every day

actively-forgotten in mist of reminiscenses

escaping from even earth

at least not memorizable from then on

even for participant, actual form is fantasy

daily loaf not felt or smelled, all silence

all background dungeon, making plans to meet sometime

to let you my dear know when I'm

not here any longer so you can wear that necklace and go out

I forgive the matriarch of war

for fabled lands and intrepid haze

overwhelming long-term memory

isn't it stultifying to recognize once-known or -unknown

tho it doesn't mean much this morning

blind desiderative reach to recollected coordinates 

of charging dock, slave to certainty
that levitating atop bureau wherever
rested communication device
to tell you of this apocrypha
but nothing came back to me.

The [Lookout Tower] rising above 110/7th is Marcus

The [Lookout Tower] rising above 110/7th is Marcus

a fuckubus from just below 135th Street

whom I mustn't trust

though he was kind enough

not killing or robbing me...

Razer

Razer

Your dignified
my brother
I don't know
if you're back
for good or just
to remind me
of the failed state
in which one
finds the river
frothing forth
to be fallen-into
solderers of love.
It's not
simple as Mensa
plan would have
one nation, undergrad.
Is it a shame
I'm only hearing
what you see from
didgeradoo to gadgets
envious sway of watcher
star-grazing black hole
widens tributary for vestments galore.
I can smear with recognition
broadly outlaying metropolis of flirters.
But never will he be here for you
I can't help to explain
how disappearance gone berserk mandates babble
carraiges, offal in the North Woods
scarily available in nascent candor
damp guard of heart to rape
the ardent foe
of sojourning:
holiness, pregnant
spoon of pest
and tome entombed.
Where is left for
orange sky - the sky?
In sand dilate I
to most-high, regarded
pollutant sloughed
off nylon campgrounds.
Miserly heart
habitual gait
bend back to
square none. Prior
to invention of zero
I was only ever
alone, dreading
not being spied
from cavernous sound
waves deployed by
fear-monger, no lies
told worthy in or of empire.
Guaranteed love is too
stung and feeble wailing
in doubt - Song of
wisdom-less grace: deluge
earthily near-mention
of self, unrealized in limb
wind or elementary particle
supposed ganderer
earn your keep within toxic hymnal.

This isn't real

This isn't real

I'm not real

how can I be real

when I can't even feel

I'm not hot or cold

I'm not there or now

I'm not in or out

imitation in drought

enduring visitation to Fetisheavan

halfway to limbo

did I make it

no forgot to go

forget where I'm going

ice set in gold ring

in shambles my igloo

The past is real

The past is real
people don't endure
physical objects
the bruises' bleeding pulp
stain on slab of concrete
which has garnered a hit
this is wounded objects
something terrible something
other than is violently happening
inside you coming to know
that time is truth
flesh does not abstain
from doing-away-with.  The spirit
has turtle shells like or as cicada
emergent I who ain't shit
turn to dust
feeding mite-lust.

Freestyle Collaboration with Jason Noah

Jason Noah reading 'The pan'

Plan for Figment (in silence) Festival 2010 for Gravity Sucks

Gravity sucks is a collaboration with Jesse Newman (Performer in video below - raw footage from Figment 2010), who has previously appeared in our blog posts - Check out his blog While this machine is to him.

Invocation: Silent, solitary, suffocating, and stilling bout of immediate laughter.

Ties: Appear unable to figure out how to tie a tie, so seek out and attain aid from chanced-upon tie-wearers.

Pictures: Attempt to convince passersby to film and photograph performance of familiarity, the products of which will be compiled on blog.

Approvals: Do anything for as long as physically possible except talk.

Introductions: Be unwilling to progress further than a handshake or hug with stranger.

Charities: Convince passersby to accept one penny and that they owe nothing to anyone.

Separations: Undertake with aid of notes to establish unique 'six degrees' that separate two apparent strangers.

Tell me how I'm doing performance schedule

'Tell me how I'm doing' 15 April 2010

12a. Columbus Circle. 'Am I real?'

I'll be asking for verification/proof of existence of this body/of my project.

3a. Suite Neighborhood Bar. 'Am I in your way?'

I'll be situated in the way of patrons escaping.

7a. 14th St Subway Interchange Tunnel. 'Am I ready for this?'

I'll be offering free consultation/representation for individuals prepared to quit their jobs or their lives.

11a. Brooklyn Bridge, Brooklyn Pedestrain Entrance. 'Who is that?'

I'll be asking for to be included in the photographs of pedestrians.

3p. Union Square. 'Who did that?'

I'll be writing a novel by eliciting passersby for dialogue, plot, and other 'narrative essentials'.

6p. NYC Metro-N Line, between Whitehall Street-South Ferry in Manhattan + Court Street-Borough Hall in Brooklyn. 'What's that?'

I'll be investing myself fully in caring for strangers, knowing full-well they'll be leaving me behind at ride's end.

10p. hArlemspAce, 1838 Seventh Avenue (Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard) at 111th Street, #6. 'How are we doing?'

I'll be welcoming individuals into my gallery for private consultation - RSVP to: suffernotindoubt@gmail.com.

tEll me how im doing (a possible performance)

??

hOw

arE

yU

? ? ?

pAulbaumann'sky

...hEre, tha continent slips under, no its not frail

Paul Baumann 3:32 PM
it isn't extending but its lifting at something

sLi 3:34 PM
its not quite ending, tha land tho its subducting, at last worth tha drama of earthquakes in early morning

Paul Baumann 3:35 PM
liquid says it all and never slowly enough, folding up in hills this

sLi 3:36 PM
arc is as folding. this moment is like an ending, wedged under fingernail cuticles

Paul Baumann 3:40 PM
was swallowed beginning in this who's last home numbered

sLi 3:43 PM
the residents days by its location, aside tha nucleon plant. It's a sunny day in a air-conditioned climate
3:43 PM
and i was thinking of today

Paul Baumann 3:47 PM
a weighty permution in which to radiate or resist

sLi 3:52 PM
i was thinking of a time and place

Paul Baumann 3:53 PM
just as in this ongoing and ambient ambulance where we have to place each

sLi 3:54 PM
i was dreaming of long-gone tear-stained ways of mine and your

Paul Baumann 3:59 PM
other moment before this picture was finished appearing

sLi 4:02 PM
It was a way 2 smirk, a way around tha sun or other large gravitationally-binding objets' de art

thIs play has no script, and may not be finished with me...

Not losers just lost

I'm lost already

don't smile -
I'm not smiling

b/c if yu smile
yu may give yrself
away

a smile once offered
cannot be reclaimed
it bears yu naked
to the world

your hopes, miseries
envisionings of self
past

it even shows sadness
in yr absence

Sir, don't smile - yu'll
give away, perhaps
to someone you could not have
intended, or will ever know

mayb even to this poor
sportsman, whose past
is a batter's allusion

To all your hungry
cold men
now, forever underfoot:

get lost
don't, don't yu smile -