I grab a chisel and begin carving a
harp out of the air I remember the smell of the dry summer air one year in
Idaho “Heart of Glass” outside of Boise a small nook with a captain’s table in
Big Sur I nudge Stevie Ray Vaughn who plays with total absorption in Tokyo 1985
the year CDs were first introduced
A middle-aged couple bicycling on a
city street riding along slowly leisurely not a care in the world while
blocking a line of traffic ascension flourishes in my hair take it to the limit
one last time when was the last time you woke up in the morning without a worry
shit I don’t have a single memory of that I must’ve been in my 20s if that ever
happened I do remember waking up with massive hard-ons that lasted so long I
had a hard time getting my pants on
I’m trying to achieve a Zero-G
experience with language the Wampanoag language isn’t dead it walks among us
it’s like having a conversation with the universe the spirit finds its true
reality on condition of experiencing heartache
The strong odor of manure hits us at
the other end of the McGraw Street Bridge that crosses Wolf Creek Ravine the
movers spread jam and butter on their toast and talk of Hollywood the
unconscious walks around in my head like a weekend
In Barcelona machine guns barbed wire
tanks grenades and muddy trenches created Dada
A sperm whale rises from the deep and
shows his head above the water in time to see a ship pass through solitary
regions a theocracy dripping diamonds I remember drinking tea with Philip
Lamantia and talking about hypnopompic states as described by Poe let’s occupy
space like we occupy time one word follows another until a chain creates its
own kind of logic the dishwasher rumbles upstairs the vacuum cleaner persists
under the impetus of its suction when dogs are in a movie do they know that
they’re in a movie
I’ve been darting back and forth
between the dentist and the orthodontist like a ping pong ball due to a failed
implant and trying to figure out how to salvage it too late it’s gone now I’m
looking at a denture there are no moral phenomena there are only moral
interpretations of phenomena and the entire drama plays out on the plains of
Mars
I believe that the universe is one
Being the preference of listening to rain rather than rock on YouTube is a gift
from the venerable forests of chance Tor House stands alone on a barren bluff
Christianity is an advertisement for
heaven Simply Red played three very special performances at the Ziggo Dome of
Amsterdam accompanied by forty musicians all of its parts are expressions of
the same energy vaccines are in development at the end of the American Dream
I watch Le Journal de Vingt Heures
which is presented by Anne-Sophie Lapix a hint of breast under a blue shirt a
reassuring sight amid so much planetary catastrophe plague and wildfire help
help I’m in the wrong story and I’m trying to escape
The stairs lead up to a marble floor
no one is immune to greed does online babysitting work I would say probably but
I’m not a baby I’m a man aging at the beginning of a century which is already
twenty years old and not a baby anymore
The president behaves as if he had a
penis the size of Great Britain succulents bloom on rock walls but the
perversity of even this pleasure doesn’t quite reach the depths of existence
I’m attempting to display the image is a pure creation of the mind everything
is in chaos there’s nothing symbolic about a slap
Language can alter perception but it
can’t make granite more granite or oak less oak or maple apple or apple maple
bits of black glass sprinkled on the street by a red Ford Ram 4-by-4
caterpillars are destroying the trees of Siberia where is Superman
The world is a room of silence and
shadow and a room of noise and light today I gave birth to a nine pound
sentence wind ruffling the pages of a car manual splayed on the ground in the
middle of the street the news is bloody water wars famines heat death refugees
turned away from closed borders but the presenters are cheerful and pretty a
mass of wildfire smoke from Oregon and California is darkening Washington’s
skies all the way to Alberta and then one day you discover that you’re an old
man or an old woman and all that matters anymore is the relentless ache of the
heart
Surrealism is a tattoo on the skin of
reality rapacity and ego have led to our demise go impregnate the peony with
the patina of patience our planet is dying I try to create a sensation of
awakening put me on the highway and show me a sign thank you Randy Meisner snap
that song at the ceiling the natural property of a wing is to carry what is
heavy upward
Mushroom soup in a bronze tureen have
you ever been able to smell anything in a dream this phenomenon is the magical
power of converting the negative into being pyromaniacs smuggling Dada
pamphlets into the dark recesses of capitalism
Space is space but I can’t write
space into existence or cook it on a stove or wear it but I can walk around in
it with an ancient key and the heat of the sun on my face in a foreign land
Perspective is often the result of a
sudden diversion I remember the night an owl flew in front of me as I crossed
the bridge over Wolf Creek Ravine the trombone is unique in that it can slide
from note to note without interruption I can’t write anything without a
conversation with someone’s guitar how can I die when my piss is warm is
consciousness the epiphenomenon of a biological organism or is it something
separate with nothing empirical about it tubes and wires running in and out of
the veins in poetry language and magic find their power the flight of birds the
resolution of these two states dream and reality into a kind of reality a
surreality this morning I took the cinnamon rolls out of the freezer which were
wrapped in cellophane I pulled the rubber band off the package and the rubber
band twisted around the counter like something alive and it occurred to me that
the border between the organic and inorganic is a lot thinner than we believe
tiny molecules of phosphine in the atmosphere of Venus may be the first sign of
life outside planet Earth bacteria produce phosphine which has the smell of
rotting fish all molecules rotate vibrate interact with light and absorb light
and produce light and that’s what makes up consciousness words spinning in
speech mermaids flowing from a spigot of the imagination
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