that levitating atop bureau wherever
rested communication device
to tell you of this apocrypha
but nothing came back to me.
Being an artist means ceasing to take seriously that very serious person we are when we are not an artist. Jose Ortega y Gasset
.
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
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
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
no forgot to go
forget where I'm going
ice set in gold ring
in shambles my igloo
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.
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.