33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS
beyond black & white
before dawn even flowers are grey till magpies, monochrome flautists, pipe in the colours
Particulunar
• he is convinced his bullet points are new moons • even today when people use the term ‘narrative arc’ Noah leans forward • not belonging to anything in this world this world belongs to anything • i cut myself …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS Leave a commentLitany
O well-wishers of the underground, defriend me. I played with the singularity of time, hounded by the noises my mother made in my ear when I was an infant, pressed close to death. Once upon a time a child caressed …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS Leave a commentLoki
I am more empty than something sucked dry by a man lost thirty days in a desert and now found I feel the leg hairs of ants on my temples and they knock and wait for someone to open the …
the tie clip [sampling Heidegger
when I walk in the garden my tie is kept down with a tie clip Being Becoming Care Angst Being-Towards-Death Un-Home The Mob Babble Uncanny Mood Voiding Void Thrown-ness Speaking Situation The Clearing Being-Ahead-of-Yourself Falling Existence Letting-Be Truth Forgetting Being …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS Leave a commentSilence in snowy streets
The footprints were black as tarmac, somehow withholding the light which otherwise streamed across the intersection of snowy streets: perhaps they had captured her soul as she walked from the basilica over to the poet’s monument and then to the …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS 1 CommentWays of the Mind as Subject 46-60
46 light wanes in Trinidad; the red ibises return; the mind loses its wager with disbelief 47 light heartedly the mind conceived the cello without frets 48 for its own security the mind forged the food chain …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS Leave a commentDogs in Space
Somewhere in Patagonia, an old man carries an axe, and a kitten blows like tumbleweed down a street otherwise empty. The closed storefronts are vacant as dreams, and the traffic lights like absence before the raw wind. It is barely …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS 2 CommentsWhen I met you in the hall
When I met you in the hall you were all inclement weather on a stony coast and you held my hand as though we were more than we could be: preppy kids in a pop-song duet retrofitting dignifying deniable half-truths …
The Walker
I walk through the city, plaiting up dreams. They are best found at night, steaming on the road, where they have been tossed out car windows or flattened from the long walks home. I straighten the dreams, pull the colours …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS Leave a commentapropos
The relation between show & tell show the seed tell the chair. there were no poppies but there was beeswax, there were no forums save the framed rain, The lead shone purple. Husks sprouted underneath, Not yellow, Dry brown. The …
Kerb side collection
Take the broken things from the side of the road the rotted cedar setting the tippling tables the cathode ray tv the rusted chair the torn fabric the fallen angels the terracotta pots. Take the broken things from this derelict …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS 1 Commentinadequate stovetop
i lap up macadamia fuzz in a middle aged stroll of the ‘nature’. espying a roof rack means change the world instead, or try on sunglasses ingested by a seven-eleven, or read emily bitto’s poem & feign a partner’s formal …
Quietly Off-Key
~ Donald Justice A song went looking for light, But that is another story. Cities burn behind us, the lake Glitters: Do not bother with odes, My son, an elegy is preparing itself For the suicides of 196__. The …
Posted in 33.0: CREATIVE COMMONS Leave a commentsueltame rocky coast smelter
sueltame hermana media hermana nada mas que un acquaintance an accident historic agujero negro never negro never the home place never the broken home platitudes only the sucios make you sweat second hand I came to understand la ley de …
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