Monday, July 27, 2020


Cosmic Chaos, image by Rupert M. Loydell


Orbital Decay

gradual decrease
distance between

lifetimes determined
entirely by interaction
with the atmosphere

calculate and simulate
experiencing drag

self-consistent and semi-
restricted body methods

transition across
gap openings in
alien minefields

mission is to shape
satellite decay paradox

Brains Go, image by Rupert M. Loydell

twitch stream
relative accuracy

considerable presence
hard power chords
and groovy intros

geostationary protons
brought down

we investigated 

structural changes

episodic narratives
atmospheric models
dynamic density models

came to face
the perils of space

Ghost Ship, image by Rupert M. Loydell

astronomers confirm
dynamic friction

prescient attention
paid to planetary
and stellar tides

techno masterclass
inertia induction

protoplanetary disk
surface coverage

motivated by
recent observations
of retrograde planets

star coefficient blues
a predictive graph

 Intruders, image by Rupert M. Loydell


the tidal field
of a rich cluster

lower energy state
such that the planet
spirals inwards

there is something
wrong with gravity

tin foil helmet
mission control

the host star
should be causing
corrective boosts

particle analysis
the science of why

lifetime prediction
rate of orbit decay

drone carrier
collapsing prison
transhuman disconnect

small rocks collide
dust orbit in a ring

Mental Reset, image by Rupert M. Loydell

translation memory
constant sampling

within diurnal cycles
upcoming interferometers
emit significant radiation

collaborative storytelling
future swept clean

Next Terror, image by Rupert M. Loydell

Rupert M. Loydell

Monday, July 20, 2020

Mark Young, Selected Work

Flockmeister, image by Irene Koronas

retrograde condensate

As a flockmeister / most
of her caprices involved
the works of Patrick White.

Hands neatly tucked away out of sight.

                    It is very important at the
            beginning to send out a DVD
                       of a Nuclear Blast — deliberate
              capitalization — to demonstrate
                    the true character of retro-
                 grade dogmas. (Amos, 5:24)

MICE — meetings, incentives, conventions &
exhibitions — become a hazard for drivers.

Try adding more information.
Unfortunately, too many com-
puters are unsure what that is.

Is said the strength of Biscuit,
of Crunt & Biscuit, lies in his
opening his mouth real wide.

the usual pit-head working

I shot this great buck in Kansas.
How does this object know
what to do apart from an in-
stinctive desire for authenticity?

: map / symbol / gold :

A parent in the winter says that the
feminist movement didn’t actually
help women. Cost accounting is
considered to be a part of parenting.

: beginning a hierarchy? :

The Marketing Manager at Turf per-
formed acoustically. A need for nothing
can be a reason to relax consistency.
Or does that only apply to synthetics?

: visit our site to buy.

The following is a list of characters
in the DC/Vertigo title Hellblazer.

It’s important to be hetero if you're school captain

I am riding the funicular, one that runs
on waste water. The elephant on the seat
in front is busy getting a facelift, & fighting
off the advances of a diplomatic courier
who still has a pouch attached to his nose
piercing. Diatribes are being offered at
bargain basement prices with a 10 cent
surcharge refundable when you return the

container they came in. I turn my back on
them, preferring the corner desk slightly
outside the apothecary's monocular visual
field. A mime climbs on to the trapeze. I
cannot make out what they are saying to
me. I gesticulate back at them. They smile.

—Mark Young

Mark Young lives in a small town in North Queensland in Australia & has been publishing poetry since 1959. He is the author of over fifty books, primarily text poetry but also including speculative fiction, vispo, & art history. His work has been widely anthologized, & his essays & poetry translated into a number of languages. His most recent books are a collection of visual pieces, The Comedians, from Stale Objects de Press, & turning to drones, from Concrete Mist Press. Due out within the next few months are turpentine from Luna Bisonte Prods, & from from Ma Press of Finland.

Monday, July 13, 2020

Steve Benson, Three pages from IT

page twenty-eight from Steve Bensons handwritten text

Three pages from IT

(page twenty-eight)

I was thinking about how we don’t expect
To see grass or a flower grow or open
With our bare eyes in broad daylight
I may not get enough of whatever it is I need
To sort out my abilities and hopes
I want to meet you with open arms and an embrace
I come with books, DVDs, and clothes enough for
Half a year of getting used to me while watching
Metamorphosis or stasis, unsure of which
Plays its hand most decisively
My deepening absorption erupts in enthusiastic
Breakthroughs instead of perseverant quibbling
When I lock myself up with the freedom to think
You look yourself up and down reflecting
The mirror’s image into an interpretation
Decay repetition entropy imitation work
Things may be falling apart but we people
Seem more often to fall open like pages
Of an intently read book one can get lost
In. And we by nature put things together
Even more than we destroy their linkages
If we fall apart ourselves maybe that’s even
More in our nature than we can realize, since
We’re so relentlessly perseverant in making sense
Of each fly in the ointment, each reflection
In a puddle of tears. What else do you see
           On the other side of your fall of hair?
Your eyes are barely visible yet so enthralling
I lose my balance just trying to make them out
         The glistening brown red streaks
The pale deep pink of flesh beneath
             The rich mud red         The vibrant darkest
Browns               Men and women dancing laughing
The surprises successfully
       Like I heard myself say, I remember
    Birds clustering along a wire
I notice and think of different things
             The difference between triumph
And catastrophe is how you feel it
     Arrogance, sarcasm, and humility

page twenty-nine from Steve Bensons handwritten text

(page twenty-nine)

Never too soon or too late to forget
But people explain anyway, to rescue
Themselves as if from perturbations
Of conscience by protectively conscientious
Cognitions that enjoin mud to become sediment
Flowers to become fruit. The person
Who’s at the cash register in the restaurant
Recognizes me but I can’t tell where I’ve ever
Saw them before or what their name is
Embarrassed to believe I call that way she looks
At me and my dumb gawk while I talk smart
And fumble with the loose edges of my own
Clothing before I remember to check my pocket
For the wallet I must have left home on the dresser
Or in the bus squirming when I pulled out my
Cell. She smiles looking me right in the eye as
If to say, “I see you and that’s all
You need to know,” paralyzing my volition
To attend to anything anyone else
Has to say. I have to stay. I leave. I come back
To find you here. Where have you been all my
Whole life? The orange is in the refrigerator
Everything else is suspended in constant change
A sort of revolution. This is oral poetry
The renovators tore off the windows I would have
Sung to you below. The harsh rain lances
The paper left behind in lieu of panes
You still look, your presence still feels
Different than others to me. Maybe they all feel
There is nothing to feel, nothing to do, there is nothing
To be done to. The pigeonholers convey their
Stereotypes telegraphically. The planet doesn’t budge
But something slides itself across it
So that everything seems to move confusingly
Close to one another, almost losing themselves
In one another’s paths and thought. Tonight
I am as isolated as anyone joined at the hip
To someone so impossible to live with, so
Implausible to conceive, so enigmatically
Narcissistic a cipher I might as well go
Jump in a lake as rot in hell, but I don’t

page thirty from Steve Bensons handwritten text

(page thirty)

The film begins to cloud as the boat unmoors
Into an inverted cove that shelters uncertainty
As a fantasy hinges on one’s history, throwing
One’s abandon to the winds and one’s body into
Chaos or at least disarray, once one merges
Fantasy to object into body and comes along
To ride the wild roan into the would-be nightmare
That is passionate delight roasting soul over
Flaming boards and embers of pathos, lost hope
Galloping across dehydrated plates of desiring
Flesh that knows for the moment nothing else
But dryness, desiccation, splitting fragments
I morph, with remorse wishing me into unity
Or else a self-rejection, committed to not knowing
An identity, purpose, or place in the world
A tray slides out with a tree on it, an ash
Tested by a breeze or breath breaks into dust
A thing is hardly solid but it’s sold as if it were
Of equivalent value to another. Each of us has but one
Life to try to live, through which to notice or to know
What life is, not only in us but as life realizes
Itself through myriad relations and contacts
With lives, whether or not other or not, sane
Or insane, the heart, the sole, fever, bliss
Such intensity is hard to bare without fainting
At my age, nearly two-thirds of some century
Old if that’s the word. Getting to know myself
Better, I forget who or what I am. A luscious
Not knowing, warm when it isn’t hot, seeps
Through me body soul and mind so I quietly seethe
Particles as waves, the depth of presence, and
How inevitable the ineffable resolution of all
Momentary perturbations into the crystallization
Of decease, a relative termination, while the rest
Of us, which is to say we, as species, viral
Unto our environment, besieging reality by force
As if by magic we could wheedle our way into each
Cell in the universe and corrupt it to our multi-
Farious misbegotten mutually deflecting destinies
I pause at the portal of a seeming futurity
To gasp for breath, a pleasure as it comes

                                                            (09 01 – 10 19 2015)

—Steve Benson

Monday, July 6, 2020

#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$’s “The Neon Garden” (pp. 1-26)

#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$

#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$’s 
“The Neon Garden” (pp. 1-26)

Part II : Eveniiing TTThiiings

Wiiittth reverences and compliiimenttts
iiinfiiiniiittte and growiiing,
ttthe body mollusk rosecuttttttiiing
as iiittt briiings ttthe piiink flesh
down ttto ttthe heel, fiiindiiing hiiis beniiign liiips on wooden chaiiirs
attt ttthe foottt of ttthe bed, driiinkiiing ttthe miiilky colors of ttthe miiilky membrane, knowiiing ttthe beautttiiiful ttthiiing of ttthey who appeared dead. III had ttto giiive up sliiippiiing wiiittth ttthe drop-outtt scumbags. Sunriiise : aettther, copper, rotttundum. TTThe valley of ttthe berry or ttthe wall tttravelled tttwelve liiittthomettters and broke fasttt on a plank. Clouds moved easttt and fasttt here III buriiied our scraps and buriiied our fur.
We have ttto siiittt down siiittt down now.
How do you feel?
You seraphiiine fiiissiiion

We settte off tttowards ttthe brawliiing. TTThundercells, ttthe horiiizon was flattt and iiinfiiiniiittte-lookiiing. And friiiendly. Niiitttrattte iiis friiiendly tttoo. III walked pleasantttly nembued wiiittth an iiinsouciiianttt ebbiiing off ttthe ettternal and ttthe tttemporal. TTThe reason of ttthe journey was liiike a melopy. Seepiiing ttthro tttiiime III
sawed my way ttthro many  and departtted from my footttsttteps ttthe gliiitttttteriiing specks of ttthe iiinviiisiiible palladaiiin, a niiictttattted dome. My exiiistttence was ttthe siiize of ttthe playiiing when III played Mounttts & Miiirttths, my exiiistttence (emptttiiiness)
was ttthe siiize of ttthe plattte
where III was for awhiiile. TTThiiis place
of peace, ttthiiis doomed abyss, ttthese
liiightttable chiiildren, saiiid ttthe greattt tttragediiian,
were sleepiiing tttogettther on a bed of hay.
TTThey settt ttthemselves swiiirls
iiin tttheiiir iiinnocenttt arms embraced.
IIIntttiiimacy maiiid conjugal, attt ttthe feettt of our bed,
on arms of our chaiiir,
smellliiike wriiitttiiing chaiiir, ttturned round
attt ttthe gattte of ttthe Garden
soaz ttto follow our stttrolliiing siiittttttiiing attt our meal
and iiinttterceptttiiing and a swiiirliiing morsel
whiiich was our portttiiion. Our plattte ttto
satttiiiatttiiion. TTThe shadow ov acrocssz
adorned by God ttthreaded, perfumed, patttchouliii
vetttiiivers and cashmeres flurry from ttthe needleless bodiiies
Extttasiiies hanged iiin sane weattther.
TTTastttes calm tttho calmed liiisttteniiing
wiiittth drowned attttttentttiiion, jeweled riiipple,
viiisiiible for pleasure,
syllablatttiiions whose comettts has comettth
mappiiing. TTTwo liiittttttle chiiildren
iiin equiiiliiibriiium, hurled some sung branches.
Chiiildhood memoriiies. Avoiiid matttiiing up wiiittth murderers.
From ttthe son’s waltttz iiin a cave, laundry or liiinens
extttended over ttthe riiisiiing carpettt.
III woven wiiittth ovals and lozenges and metttiiiculously green
glossy efflorescences.
Whattt skiiirttted?
Fresh flower, awaiiittt, confiiidenttt, ttthe hand ttthattt iiimpriiisons me
TTThe phases of ttthe moon, you speak mossiiily my chiiild!
When he cuttt ttthe currenttt, III exhaled a siiigh of deliiiverance.

“IIIn ttthe woods ttthere ttthe ttthiiings and ttthe liiiviiing beiiings have nottthiiing.”

IIIttt iiis iiimportttanttt ttto be hunttter
and nottt raiiin shower
ttthiiis season.

Boy who dugs a hole wiiittth a casserole, iiis here
iiin ttthe garden!
“Have you come for musiiic? For nuc
leus liiitttaniiies?”
And iiif one such sanctttuary came ttto rave agaiiin
iiin abrogatttiiion, doze miiilleniiiums ttto come come ttto
be poured and pardoned
before iiittt was rebuiiilttted
composiiing whatttmiiighttt have ttto become
iiittt was iiimpossiiible ttto exiiitttiiingush
and ttthe fiiire was ttthere.
TTThe boy tttoo.
Wiiittth a casserole, iiin ttthe gardens diiiggiiing a hole
ttthro ttthe houses. Soon ttthe houses
were iiin ashes. Some beams were burniiing and smiiirkiiing sliiightttly
“III prefer ttto pray.”
Passed ttthe cape of niiightttmare, you wiiil be receiiived ttthere liiike kiiings.
Quiiick wiiittth ttthe tttea, reheattt iiittt!
You wiiill be among ttthe siiix priiiveleged
TTThere wiiill be a seventtth!
“III’ve gotttttten used ttto my iiinttterrmenttt.
Hangiiing from ttthe tttrunk of tttrees, piiines of mourniiing bouquettts
diiilattted iiin ttthe fiiirsttt rays of day, openiiing liiike niiightttshades,
spreadiiing iiin aiiirs ttthese suave smells.
“Chiiildren, would chiiildren be so kiiind as ttto sliiice ttthese gentttlemen away from tttheiiir dresses?”
TTThe head iiin ttthe broiiiler!
(ttthe neck iiis prone ttto tttake you ttto bad places. )
“Siiimon afttter ttthe sun has riiisen, you musttt sweep and wax ttthe floors of ttthe salons.”

Pleasured iiin ttthe sweatttiiing boredoms ofttten haiiirs are hardened. All hardened.

IIIn ttthe countttrysiiide, whattt a soliiitttude. You bettt.
TTThey saiiid ttthe rsutttliiing of ttthe leaves are leaféd—do you fear nottt rememberiiing ttthem?

“Careful chiiildren, iiif you fear nottt fiiindiiing ttthem as you wiiill soon be passiiing ttthe tttropiiics!”
“When you arriiive you wiiill place ttthe meattts where ttthey belong. TTThattt iiis ttto say, iiin friiigorriiiffiiic chambers accordiiing ttto ttthe rules of proper congelatttiiion.”
Warned ttthese archiiitttecttts ttthattt we were lookiiing for ttthem.

Send us ttthe Jesus made of goattt!

We’re off ttthe cliiiniiic!

Where are we goiiing?

TTTo ⱪ-liiine. You bettt! He laughed and sliiiced hiiis head ttto search for hiiim iiin ttthe attttttiiic (attt flea).
TTThe search wenttt roamiiing. IIIttt was all very iiinttterestttiiing. Certttaiiinly, as we found  hiiim, ttthe search, ttthe tttouch and ttthe iiinabiiiliiittty ttto sense runniiing afttter hiiim iiin ttthe miiiddle of hiiimself and astttoniiished ttto have gone ttthro hiiim wiiittthouttt blessiiing hiiim
wiiittth copiiious reverence

“Chiiild, would you liiike ttto stttriiip my head off my buzzes?”

“TTThe soliiitttude of ttthe valley addles me. How long, chiiildren, have you been here?” he smiiirked.
And we marvelled attt hiiim.
He saiiid, “Marvel you wiiill, you wiiill marvel attt hiiim!”
Among ttthe liiighttt ttthattt your skull emiiittt.
IIIttt iiis luxuriiianttt iiin ttthe siiilence,
buttt we do prefer ttto keep ttthe stttalliiions.
“Marvel ttthey wiiill!”
( ttthey marvel attt hiiim )
“Marvel he diiid attt ttthe altttiiitttude of hiiis pyramiiids!”
Buttt now ttthere’s 13 stttalliiions tttheres 13 stttalliiions buttt only 7 chiiildren.
TTThese 13 stttalliiions stttarttted chewiiing unttthreaded.
TTThey marvelled attt ttthem!
“Whattt multttiiitttude? And no mare? Gentttlemen, you wiiill sleep iiin ttthese horses.”

TTThey had braiiined ttthem outtt of pearls where ttthey found ttthem,
iiittt babbled outtt ttthe batttalliiion.

“Buttt you’ll be allowed ttto tttalk iiin ttthe ovens!”

“You wiiill descry, chiiildren…mammouttth and neanderttthal come back iiin stttead!”
“Forgettt iiittt,”  begged obese men wiiittth sussuratttiiing heads of globulatttiiing niiitttrattte. “We’re tttakiiing ttthe chiiildren?”
( Marvelliiing attt hiiim ) “Marvelliiing you wiiill! And you wiiill tttake ttthe chiiildren.”
Biiikiiiniii was near. IIIdentttiiical swiiimmiiing
tttrunks hangiiing outtt
on ttthe dryiiing rack
off a mountttaiiin.

K-car blackeniiing
wiiittth a tttriiim of pale khakiii

“Liiighttter color, monsiiieur?
TTThey adore ttthe pale khakiii!
Funeral swiiimsuiiittt pale khakiii courtttesy liiighttter color pale khakiii pale khakiii no pale khakiii courtttesy of funeral swiiimsuiiittt biiikiiiniii obese men wiiittth sussuratttiiing heads of globulatttiiing niiitttrattte, wiiittth a chiiin of chiiildren tttreasure of ttthe summer collectttiiion.”
“No”, ttthey correcttted hiiim, “our tttreasure of ttthe summer collectttiiion. TTThiiis has been a dream.” saiiid Chiiildren.
“Fiiire iiis runniiing.” (Mammouttth)
 Buttt where iiis iiittt gooo-iiinng?”  ( TTThe armpiiittt)
“Marvelliiing attt hiiim.”
“Marvel you wiiill!”

He marvelled attt hiiim! TTThe neanderttthal attttttached ttto iiittt.
“When wiiill fiiire move here?” saiiid ttthe neanderttthal, iiin a voiiice.

“Waiiittt a miiinuttte chiiildren, III ttthiiink somettthiiing’s III ttthiiink my tttrousers are falliiing! fallen from your tttrousers…”
“My tttrousers are falliiing!” saiiid Chiiildren.

Slyly, a matttchstttiiick from hiiis ttthroattt he was pulliiing. “Meiiine fraus or meessiiieurs, when, diiid you ask, wiiill fiiire move here?”

“TTThe matttchstttiiick fell iiinttto my ttthroattt,” he mourned iiin explanatttiiion and smiiiled liiike a deer*.
Where are we goiiing?
Chiiildren love khakiii. He smiiiled attt armpiiittt, he smiiiled attt ttthe beer.
“Diiid ya gettt ttthe beers?”
He smiiiled attt chiiildren.
“Hum hum hum!”
“Bon voyage monsiiieur,” saiiid someone tttoward obese men wiiittth sussuratttiiing heads of globulatttiiing niiitttrattte.
“Cave me ttthiiis.”
           - House

*Liiike monstttertttrucks.


Fiiirsttt Maz IIIRH.

 ( ttthiiis iiis ttthe tttiiime we attte ttthattt burger attt ttthe Café Montttana iiin TTThe Morvan iiin 2012 . IIIttt was a kiiid siiized burger, ttthe only one ttthey had, ttthe lady was contttriiittte, she wanttted us ttto have somettthiiing else, buttt we iiinsiiisttted. IIIttt was whattt we wanttted. You puttt ttthe burger iiin ttthe miiicrowave. )

Dream 2 Septttember 2016 (afttter comiiing deep iiin our ass)

“On beiiing an angel”
TTThiiis iiis from ttthe Gemiiiniiiiii ttto Carpcar Radiiio Broadiiise
We were bottth as us ttthe voiiice speakiiing ttto Francesca Woodman from wiiittthiiin her (ttthough she miiighttt have hear iiittt outttsiiide). When she tttook ttthe piiicttture On Beiiing an Angel, Eye was seeiiing from her eyes, and iiin colors, her body as she piiictttured iiittt. When she tttook, or iiimagiiined (or perhaps ttthiiis iiis ttthe dream we send her ttthattt niiighttt?) as she photttographed her chesttt, her busttt and tttiiittts iiin bleach and whiiittte wiiittth ttthe captttiiion “On beiiing an Angel”, around her body, buttt faiiintttly, she seemed ttto see some room wiiittth a priiimordiiial blue blue blueness ttto iiittt, and her body laiiid (or sattt) stttrangely on some metttalliiic siiilvery gurney ttthiiing. IIImpressiiion of cliiiniiical cleanliiiness all around her (liiike a futtturiiistttiiic operatttiiion tttable, where no bodiiies are opened and no bloods are draiiined from a body – maybe some hydrogen/liiighttt tttechnoglottttttiiis?) TTThe room was ttthe sorttt of room we iiimagiiined aboard ttthe Eyeliiidless Guy Shiiip, or hoveriiing around iiittt as a satttelliiittte room for variiious uses and purposes. As Francesca’s eyes looked down and saw her tttiiittts iiin ttthe liiighttt, and ttthe priiimordiiial blueness, a calmiiing modulattted Liiiliiittthiiian soottthiiing voiiice (wiiittth ttthe palpable iiinviiisiiible presence of Oediiipus alongsiiide). “You’ve done well, liiittttttle barttt!
Your mottther and fattther are proud and we  tttoo ___________
Now iiittt iiis tttiiime ____________”
(Fiiind he
whattt saiiid)

Dream B2 14 Septttember 2016

Parttt III
Eye (ttthiiis iiis an observatttory dream) iiis grasshiiigh iiin ttthe lawn, a liiittttttle untttriiimmed, of ttthe promontttoriiied flower bed ttthattt used ttto liiive by ttthe park on ttthe markettt place attt ttthe foottt of ttthe Chestttnuttt tttree buiiildiiing. TTThen Eye riiise a liiittttttle, and lokoke around, and III am now iiin 360° viiisiiion, encompassiiing ttthe sky, ttthe buiiildiiings on each siiide, ttthe park iiin fronttt, and ttthe resttt of ttthe flower bed wiiittth ttthe liiittttttle russettt house and ttthe tttaller tttree promontttory behiiind . IIIn my frontttal viiisiiion, faciiing ttthe park, comes iiin a very tttiiiny giiirlliiike creattture, a very small versiiion of ttthe liiittttttle Arab giiirl Oceane, buttt wiiittth ttthe long long dark brown haiiir whiiich she so dearly regretttttted her parenttts had her cuttt a few monttths ago. So, iiin a muttte priiimeval and extttremely oriiigiiinal (iiin ttthe sense of “ttthattt came fiiirsttt or before”, or “had been ttthere, under ttthe surface, as ttthe ground and dephtttful siiimpliiifiiied base ttto grass realiiittty/language). TTTelepattthiiic language, she lettt me know, III would be (now) iiintttroduced ttto someone, or somettthiiing, refered ttto as “a brottther”. TTThatttwhiiichwho had longed ttto meettt me for a long, logdod whiiile. Haviiing iiintttroduced ttthe upcomiiing appariiitttiiion ttthus, ttthe Oceane dreamcreattture diiisappears promptttly.

IIIn molecules iiitttself iiinttto exiiistttence, a fiiine tttiiiny canariii yellow matttchstttiiick-tttall beiiing, ttthattt seemed ttto be made of pure canariii yellow feattther. TTThiiis miiinuscule beiiing iiis somehow fiiixattted on showiiing me ttthe gymnastttiiics tttriiicks he knows, and he effectttuatttes variiious iiimpeccable routttiiines, complettte wiiittth tttriiiple saltttos, and a lottt of complexe fiiigures, whiiich he accompliiishes ttto perfectttiiion. And somewhere iiin ttthe Eye’s miiind iiis formed a ttthoughttt : “TTThe relatttiiionshiiip/ratttiiio betttween siiize and one’s abiiiliiittty ttto propel one’s mass iiin space wiiittth ease. TTTiiime has wiiings, justtt liiike a person or a butttttterfly. TTThiiis iiis how tttiiime appears iiin spou. Eye objecttts, “Buttt iiif you came wiiittth me, Eye would show you how tttiiime opens iiin black hole, how one doesn’ttt need ttto move attt all, whiiile tttiiime iiis stttiiill iiin ttthe bleach house/bladder long/ Black hole around one, and where motttiiion iiis one’s choiiice and nottt tttiiime constttraiiinttt.”

Dream B2 Augusttt 1 2016 (01082016 = 1872*)

IIIn ttthe fiiirsttt parttt of ttthe dream, III am siiittttttiiing on Oungaoua’s coutttch, and she iiis (actttiiively - crossed outtt) viiisiiibly actttiiivatttiiing ttthiiings and objecttts around as she always does whiiile III ttthiiink back iiin my dreammiiind ttto ttthe shiiirttt IIIve seen on a chiiild iiin anottther layer of ttthe dream, a mariiine blue shiiirttt whiiich had iiin whiiittte letttttters Whattt iiif a presiiidenttt iiis a chiiild | IIIn ttthe miiirror, we don’ttt resenttt buttt whattt we are.

TTThen an equatttiiion pops outtt and cracks open outtt of nowhere: Ka “ (m)= 500u 9tttdxr

‘( ﷲﷲ ttthiiis contttiiinues ﷲﷲ ) ’


ttthoughttts and prayers



My mom was walkiiing my 5 year old daughttter outtt of ttthe battthroom afttter my daughttter had tttaken a battth. As ttthey lefttt, my daughttter looked iiinttto ttthe spare room (iiin whiiich a couch was stttored)
Ladiiies, iiif you are here would you giiive hiiim anottther chance.

Catttheriiine wheel
         noun
1          Briiitttiiish a fiiirework iiin ttthe form of a spiiinniiing coiiil.
2          Heraldry a wheel wiiittth curved spiiikes projectttiiing around ttthe ciiircumference.

            C16: named afttter Sttt Catttheriiine ttthe Wheel, wiiittth reference ttto her martttyrdom on a spiiiked wheel.

III miiiiiisseedd hhiiiiiimm III mmiiiiiisssseedd hiiim
ttthe fatttehr of ttthe cherubiiim

‘iii4M pleased ttto read’


‘hiiide!’, he punctttured.

‘iiittt’s greattt ttto reliiieve,’ he heattthed.

‘don’ttt you remember?,’ he bottttttled.


‘Liiike a tttoottth.’ he gorged.
‘You diiid ttto your fiiinger whattt youd do ttto a tttoottth’, ttthey gargled attt hiiim.
“‘Do III lusttt?
‘Am III a lusttter?
‘Do III shiiine
‘where III don’ttt
‘belong,” hiiis cousiiin blumbered.

( wiiittth hiiis cousiiins iiin an iiice factttory )

‘ttthe realwiiind iiis liiike a chewiiing’

TTTo stttop ttthe blood whattt diiid we puttt ttto stttop ttthe wound? a spiiider web? a chiiicken liiiver? a four leafed clover?

28 Piiilgriiim Criiickettt
“ Criiickettts generally open tttheiiir wiiings afttter haviiing been unglued a certttaiiin diiistttance. Such unglueoiiing iiis iiin facttt a powerful leap, effectttuattted by way of ttthe back paws. TTTheiiir contttrol of erectttiiion, or diiirectttiiionnal contttrol, iiisn’ttt very preciiise tttiiill ttthey really are flyiiing. TTThe tttotttal extttenttt of ttthe tttunnel of siiighttt-seeiiing has been necessary for ttthe unglueoiiing, so ttthattt iiin exiiitttiiing from ttthe tttunnel ttthe iiinsecttt has reached hiiisher maxiiimum flyiiing speed.

TTThe wiiind sounds liiike iiittts cheeriiing
buttt III rattther liiike ttto ttthiiink ttthattt iiittts dyiiing iiin a nascar acciiidenttt, ttthe kiiind where ttthe blue car iiin pursuiiittt of ttthe leader suddenly fliiips tttakiiing ttthe curve tttoo fasttt and ttthe chassiiis seems justtt ttto bursttt aparttt as ttthe jackniiifed fender acrobattts upon a seared asphalttt and a wheel huge black rubber riiicohettts from ttthe hectttoriiish speed of ttthe diiismantttliiing and fliiies iiinttto ttthe crowd who ttthoughttt ttthey were safe, justtt niiighttt communttters. justtt cunttts.

TTTomaz Salamun (4 July 1941 – 27 December 2014)
Aleš Debeljak (25 December 1961 – 28 January 2016)
Daviiid Salamun  (1974 – 2015)

III was justtt goiiing ttto tttake notttes from
ttthiiis piiiece of paper
from whiiich ttthere iiis wiiine spriiitttziiing
from ttthe holes
where diiid you gettt ttthattt word
III don’ttt know, diiidn’ttt you giiive iiittt ttto me?

ttthe tttwo tttoys he says hiiis daughttters has
he doesnttt need iiimagiiinatttiiion
hes fiiilled wiiittth beliiief
he loves iiittt he wanttts ttto have iiittt

‘ttthe feeliiing he had from us was ttthattt he was iiinviiitttiiing us ttto stttay places’ ‘yes or no yes or no’
‘ttthe iiimages we have are from hiiis daughttters house tttwo plastttiiic tttoys wiiittth colorful beads nexttt ttto iiittt’

(fiiind ttthe poem on ttthe iiinttternettt)

fiiirsttt iiittt was a paiiin now iiittt’s a pleasure
justtt liiike paiiintttiiing hens on a wanttter biiin
ttthe naiiil ttthe naiiil deep iiinttto my skiiin
justtt briiing iiittt wiiittthiiin
fiiirsttt III wiiill shave my eyebrows
and ttthen we’ll be lovely
we’ll work for iiittt
we’ll wattter biiin

naiiil driiives ttthro my skiiin
naiiil drove ttthro my screen
III forgottt
deep wiiittthiiin

iiif ttthe ecliiipse come < iiif ttthe ecliiipse come
tttheres no naiiils here
wiiittth crude wiiitttheriiing

how do you change iiittt
III forgottt
deep wiiittthiiin


Cold wiiittth joy coldwiiilttthcryiiing  :  

‘ We’re iiin ttthe carriiiage house of an oversympattthetttiiic riiiver ’

ttthrew a sex iiin ttthe wall
wall gottt comed iiin
we all gottt comed iiin
diiifferenttt cottttttages of words, broodiiing hosues cold wiiittth ttthe brume and sweattt


sea (sea, 1999)
 Leo III grattted ttthe head ttto half ttthe muzzle ttthen stttopped (Leo III scrub ttthattt deck head ttto half ttthe muzzle and ttthen quiiittt, 2009)

                                                III’m comiiing, Jall-all

jappy Jall-all Lall-all Lee

Where III’m happy

Abugiiida / ÅƢǚɢʲᶁ۝
An abugiiida, also called an alphasyllabary, iiis a segmentttal wriiitttiiing systttem iiin whiiich consonanttt–vowel sequences are wriiitttttten as a uniiittt: each uniiittt iiis based on a consonanttt letttttter, and vowel notttatttiiion iiis secondary. TTThiiis contttrasttts wiiittth a full alphabettt, iiin whiiich vowels have stttatttus equal ttto consonanttts, and wiiittth an abjad, iiin whiiich vowel markiiing iiis absenttt or optttiiional. Abugiiidas iiinclude ttthe extttensiiive Brahmiiic famiiily of scriiipttts of Souttth and Soutttheasttt Asiiia

Al-Dīn (Arabiiic: الدين‎‎ ad-dīn  "ttthe reliiigiiion"), a componenttt of some Arabiiic names, meaniiing "ttthe reliiigiiion", e.g. Saiiif al-Diiin "Sword of ttthe reliiigiiion".

TTThe Arabiiic spelliiing closely tttransliiittterattted iiis a l d ī n, buttt iiittts stttandard tttransliiittteratttiiion iiis ad-dīn due ttto ttthe phonologiiical rules iiinvolviiing "sun letttttter", buttt iiin practttiiice romaniiizatttiiions of Arabiiic names contttaiiiniiing ttthiiis elementtt may vary greatttly, iiincludiiing:

el Diiin / eldiiin / eddiiin
al-Diiin, ad-Diiin
ud-Diiin, -uddiiin (partttiiicularly iiin Engliiish-speakiiing Souttth and Easttt Asiiia), -uddeen (partttiiicularly iiin Engliiish-speakiiing Souttth and Easttt Asiiia)
-eddiiine (partttiiicularly iiin French-speakiiing areas)
-ettttttiiin (partttiiicularly iiin TTTurkiiish names)
-od-diiin (partttiiicularly iiin Persiiian names)

“III’m nottt lookiiing attt a clock and tttiiime iiis nottt tttiiickiiing.”


_____                                                                                                                                          _____

III could be attt ttthe ocean iiif III wasn’ttt
so tttiiired
so tttiiired


TTThattt’s whattt III was lookiiing attt.
TTThe hum of ttthattt  iiincludiiing ttthe pluh-pluh-pluhm sound
(when iiittt was booed off ttthe easel)

_____                                                                                                                                                      _____

‘money ah yeah ttthattt goes away quiiickly!’

parttts of whattt are liiingeriiing 
stttay asleep

whattt iiive become seems almosttt as anattthema ttto ttthe way ttthe world exiiisttts. ttto whiiich spiiiriiittt and siiilence liiisttten/ ttthey liiisttten , seems almosttt ttthattt ttthey liiisttten ttthey liiisttten ttto whattt ttthey tttake are tttakiiing ttthey liiisttten ttto ttthe liiimns asleep branchiiing outtt iiin tttheiiir asleepful rustttliiing. III griiip ttthe tttangle of blue shiiifttt. III am somebody ttthattt diiied. iiif my body whenttt ttto liiisttten ttto somebody tttrespassiiing iiin a fiiield of grass
III do nottt know
ttthiiis iiis nottt expecttted
yettt confiiirms
almosttt as a glossolaliiia wiiill
ttthe verges of capableness iiin ttthe vocal chords
When you were born III was ttto whattt ttthey tttake ttthe way ttthey are tttakiiing ttthey are liiistttened ttto ttto ttthe way III iiin my sleepful rustttliiing grope for liiife,

siiir john frankliiin

                        ⌠ ‘iiittt’s ttthe ciiittty ttthattt dwelttt ttthe sea
                         ‘and wiiill have been here

                         ‘forever has been

niiisiii tttiii

13 December 2016

Nottthiiing nottthiiing liiike a good “us” tttree
a graveyard of bras and under
wears and socks
ttthattt iiis liiike earttth
consciiiousness iiittthere iiis only a liiittttttle of iiittt you can'ttt concentttrattte iiittt iiin 8 biiilliiion bodiiies
ttthattt’s justtt ttthe way iiittt iiis
absorbiiing ttthe lasttt biiittt of sun iiin ttthe phiiilliiipiiines before headiiing back ttto ttthe mottthermand
III closely spell my body,
a dancer

III am almosttt done ciiircliiing : RUBY CLOUDS? and small rocks, and oh ottther ttthiiings, ttthumbnaiiils, whattt ttthey attte on ttthe boattt, ttthe menu under ttthe ttthumb, iiittts sardiiines under ttthe fiiingernaiiils man, tttoday ttthattt happened, tttoday we diiiscovered siiir frankliiins lasttt meals, stttudy fiiinds aka we fuckiiing rule no boastttiiing, ttthrasoniiical tttoottth tttoottth. voooooouuuuuuuuoooop, III am almosttt done ciiircliiing. A paiiir of iiinfanttt planettts were found orbiiittttttiiing around a young stttar. ‘Whattt a niiice paiiir.’ Ruby clouds are betttttter ttthan niiice shiiips. III fiiilled brottthers ttthiiis tttiiime wiiittth my chiiimiiing, our chiiimiiing.

Whattt else, ttthe liiittttttle ttthiiing ttthattt floattts near you
and tttakes your piiicttture when you wanttt iiittt ttto, ttthattt’s a good one ttto ttthiiink abouttt, we diiid iiittt, diiidn’ttt boasttt, almosttt done ttthe way ttthe ciiittty calls iiittt : ttto you, ttto you ttthattt on ttthe boattt ciiircliiing saw boattts passiiing, we iiin ttthe boattt, whattt we attte, swayed as grasses whattt we found are aloes amiiidsttt stttopped ttturniiing shiiips attt sea : ttthrasoniiical, ours. TTThe boattts. U’m iiin a tttshiiirttt. 

U’m iiin a ttthrashiiing brottther III fiiilled wiiittth breattth.
U’m goiiing tttaller ttthan a person hiiis heiiighttt.
U’m prelapsariiian mollusk vomiiittt.
U’m saiiilor ttthumbnaiiil of Frankliiing doom arctttiiic expediiitttiiion. Rob Lamb.
U’m John Hartttnaiiil.

Do you know someone called Daviiid O’naiiil
TTTheyre all called John Odaviiid.

Even wiiittth myself diiiviiided so deliiighttt.
TTThe nattture of viiirtttue.
III fiiilled wiiittth lead and forever had been.
Justtt had tttheiiir AQR of lead.
Gods, demiiigods, and poetttesses.
Names and goattts.
TTThanks for haviiing giiiven homage ttto ttthe greattt and deliiiciiious Mary Noel.
Have you notttiiiced ttthattt Kiiitttttty Drouettt iiis iiin realiiittty
prenamed Mary Noell?
TTTwo French Poetttesses,
ttthe older and ttthe younger,
And ttthey wear ttthe same name.
Bottth of ttthem wrottte a poem abouttt ttthe goattt.
Mary Noel : “Me ttthe goattt, III am ttthe surplus of ttthe herd.”
( iiin “TTThe Songs & TTThe Hours” )
Mary Noell : “III have surpriiised
On ttthe dune, ttthe liiittttttle brown goattt
Coiiiffed iiin fa-key wiiittth tttwo moonbeams.”
( from “TTTree, My Friiiend” )
TTThe movementtt we feel kneeliiing before iiittt.
IIInsiiide a wiiindowless concrettte room,
iiin a 14 ttton sttteel chamber, iiin an open fiiield
Ruby and sapphiiire clouds…
III fiiilled wiiittth breattth.
III saiiid everyttthiiing ttto you : almosttt done ttthe way ttthe ciiittty calls iiittt
ttto you ttto you ttthattt on ttthe boattt ciiircliiing saw boattts passiiing.
You, iiin charge of tttalkiiing abouttt iiittt.
Giiive a presenttt ttto ttthe ground.
A double deconjoiiinmenttt metttempsychosiiis ttthe siiine wettttttiiing iiin surf
wattter blown iiin a cascade of flattttttened sttteps
liiittttttle alarum bells of ttthe questtt. ttthe
humans are fucked. tttalk ttto iiittt iiin siiilence.
IIIttt’s a diiinosaur, or a red wood tttree.
TTThe humans are unfunctttiiional. (TTThattt means useful.)
IIIn ttthe morniiings we do stttretttches and dances
IIIn ttthe cemetttary we dance so well
Our liiimbs experiiience ttthe whelmiiing of tttheiiir abiiiliiittty ttto efface.
Stttrange wattter liiily
ttthe lampposttt.
Swervendiiine, ttthe melestttory.
TTThe basiiic latttiiin word for peniiis.


Maze-Makiiing 101

BTTTttttttTTT Mediiical TTTextttbook:

By Howerd W(iiierdà°). Howweiiirdddd Haggarddd, B.ttt.ttt
Funded by Kiiing Chops, Wife, Wives and Associates
Mary-Loups Raciiine Clawiiitttiiis : ttthiiis iiis ttthe syndrome ttthattt stttriiikes ttthe fattthers house shower where a jacussiii lay, a four seattter, who loses a condom iiin ttthe ass and ttthen retttriiieves iiittt by employiiing a iiincompetttenttt siiilenttt duck mettthod. IIIttt consiiisttts iiin ttthe tttraumatttiiized hand growiiing iiitttself iiinttto a repliiicatttiiion of roottts and pungenttt surroundiiing soiiils whiiilsttts ttthe wearer of ttthe hand swiiiftttly biiinds wiiittth ttthe nearesttt vertttiiical surface due ttto ttthe voraciiious nattture of ttthe roottts and diiigs and diiigs.

STTTIIIR (Casttt Members ) :
IIIttt’s ttthe jacuzziii quiiintttettt, haviiing perhaps spliiittt screens. Stttructtture iiis loosely based on ttthe Amber TTTrapped Wiiindow Glass We Found TTToday Behiiind ttthe Wood Planks ( IIIn ttthe Stttreettt ). 5 Jacuzziiis : Foulard ttthiiief jacuzziii, Frauna Mushroom Jacuzziii, Larry’s Jacuzziii, Lynch-Bodnars Jacuzziii, Jaeger House Jacuzziii IIIn IIIIIIIIIowa Ciiittty. TTThe sttteam swirls, in all of ttthem. Like a coimposttt.



℃⌂ᴺ٭⸈ךѦʈȉºȯnj consolation

differenttt causalittties don’ttt existtt
landmass  a peninsula  a millenia are ttthe same ttthing
a hyphen is ttthe same ttthing
a ttthing among blobs of dew

So, ttthe Shittttttake is back.
Yea ittt came back ittt wenttt away attt 817 am banging ttthe door really hard so wed made less noise ok

Ittt’s making a lottt of back and forttth and back and forttth

I don’ttt know if ittt’s ttthe shittttttake, maybe ittt’s ttthe landlord?
Buttt wha-wha-whattt how would ttthe landlord have persimmons ttto enttter tttttto ttthe house? Bugh: maybe ittt gave ittt permission….Dunno. I see ttthe car in fronttt of ttthe house. Down ttthere. Buttt I don’ttt know if ittts ittt or ittt…

Sharon Lee, you kno, if ittt’s ttthe landlord you’ll recognize his car.
No, I-I dunno. Maybe someone is moving. Maybe ittts moving. Ittts making a lottt of BACK and FORTTTH. Maybe ittt can'ttt bear ittt any longer.


Q : Who is Carole Rottth’s aborttted baby?
A : Michael.


Did Narcissus jerk off in ttthe wattter?
Did he ask ttthe new friend whattt he ttthoughttt abouttt ttthattt?