Being an artist means ceasing to take seriously that very serious person we are when we are not an artist. Jose Ortega y Gasset





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31 January 2011

Lab gams

For Paul Baumann 



What I meant to say all this
time was/what I mean to say
is: Thank you - hardly seems enough
these words are not biting
this covenant from abroad
snows according to gospel writ-
ing is too much folksy and not
enough sentry of cardiac startled
by vocation for all that you worked
my derelictions of duty missiles
absconding at length lynching but in fear
for too long tears stoppered
tremble of soul anxious to be told
again learning, with you implicating self
living to deserve, by error, reserve
of listed forms, mined Latinate origins, and concrete
denotation in dictionary or thesaurus demolish
censored pain I mean does not own me
intoxicates any further with notions
sniffle of speed, sip to scotch
curl up tendrils, clutch of comb
grooming in stable farmhand
just as well brother, mother, personhood vacates
careless in lieu of epiphany
within view of permanent night
plastic porpoise/lucid with faculty on first date
ruing lover and love songs to come-

We hate you

We hate you/we do not exactly feel for you
we miss you/you are not recalled, not
fondly if at all/we are bearing down on you
we did not even notice you there/we will
hold you down if we catch up to you
we would not rape you if
you were the last hymen in horticulture

Something is coming

Something is coming for me
it is in the headlines
screaming get out the way
bomb millers delight in aspiring
feast upon grave plot fiat
of topiary despites - egg
cream whipped of lead pipe
in tibula's bin or crack, ice
rock (AM arrives too soon - heads) to roll

If it is

If it is and if it isn't if it was
if one can by self if one cannot
if alone is all for me if I'm entered
alien is not bitter outlander
are the sweetest of rare meats
black people, black people
reduced to orgiastic phallo-
centric/in concert at
experiential edge of waking
all men lie/all ladies waltz

Taking in all

Taking in all kin and comers
to right the belongs of
dawn senescence - hard staring
but you were born, not aborted
so how can you possibly know
or hope to overstate - undeniably
me is not something to try to be-

27 January 2011

Seven songs

These lyrics are dedicated to our dear friends pictured here - may we keep each other safe and hold each other soon.



How does anybody
ever make it through
with tanks firing into face?

 It's the Master Race
they've come for you...
How ya gonna make
it back home?

You never left
I'm not alone
you never left.

How does anybody keep
sixty paces between
armor and skin
none is without sin

but sleep I long for
not night or
in Good's graces
life after life...

How you gonna
make it back home;
in what land do houses
rise up and to Master come?






The very last thing
I hear you say
is: 'Everything's
about to go up in flames!'

Then you slip into smoke
an untamed heart
is just a driverless train.

I know you like
to take a chance
but next thing you know
someone's life is in your hands.

The next thing you hear
is the very last thing you'll hear
an asphalt grave's no
way to stake your claim.

There you were
curled-up on the floor
better a lost cause
than ever to get bored!

The very last thing
I heard you say was:
'Everything's about
to go up in flames!'

You slip into smoke
curl up on the floor
an untamed heart
I'd rather be a lost cause...






I sure don't want
to be afraid
like I am today
I just got to say

(And I hope you're not listening
because if you are
this ain't gonna be pretty)

Let's not stop at the start
I won't be taking part
in no race to prosperity

magnanimity slaughters artistry

Don't pay for artworks!
It's hard work-
HEARTWORK!

Coin and dollar
won't make for hire
Jack the Ripper.

Artists must
not be prosperous.
The whole world can see:
We'll still be doing our thing-

Don't pay for artwork!
It's just too hard work-
HEARTWORK!

Don't pay to see me,
hear me, fuck me
or be me; forget me - just
KEEP THE MUSIC FREE!






Do you remember when
I said, 'Remember when...'?
Let's stop remembering
and make new memories

Be my friend
I don't need
another enemy
come baby please

end life for me
do off strictly
come inside me
H-I-V-E

a brush with life
I once was free
by which I mean
make me your wife

don't die
before your time
how can sacrifice be a crime
when it's the only guarantee

I don't need
another enemy
come baby please
be my friend

success is so...
How can I know?
easy...
I'm dying to be free!

Will I recognise
my name when I
hear excised
from the book of life?

Will I go free
by which I'm
not again me
today or ever?






Life is always strange somehow
it has its ups and downs
it drives you crazy
spinning round and round...

In life there's no knowing why
suicide is no escape from time

Why is there just one, why
not a second more? And no
rewinding? Is it worth it
or Love's no more than rhyme?

I know I can't start living
til I escape from time
has any puppet ever
actually come alive?

You haven't started until you've left behind
you got to make peace with time

and all the crying
fighting lying biting
slighting of every caste
by every other

so fled to Mary Mother
'May I please have a moment of your time?'
no time for breaking-down
I'm flung and settle as dust in sky-






Don't worry about where I am
I'm gone as far as your concerned
and even if we'll see each other again
it's gonna be a long time from now

every graceless thing will run its course
at the end of it all come a-crashing
toxic memory his name in acrostic
recollection's grey snow by lightning flashed

inside your heart you know it's easy
to say goodbye if not to mean it
as small a foothold as your love gained
I condemned by saying, 'We are one'

without fear of reprisal; Don't worry, don't hold in mind
I'm gone as far as you're concerned
and if we should see each other again,
it'll be years from now - Will you
even know my face, much less my name?






It's hard when you're
not really live
to feel for sure
know you are loved

But you're not really live, not present
listen to the words I say
look at who I pray to be

No medicine or psychology
can take my place, walking so fine wire
no other can posit or see
from eyes of this gyre

You're not really live, not present
are you listening, hearing
or trying to talk over me?

if you're trying, you're absent
with no objective advice
outside of the moment
what sets you free

if you're crying or impatient
who do you love outside self
outside of time, a living shadow
can you ever love me?

You're not really live, not present
show me that I'm seen and heard
and don't you dare talk over me!