Monday, November 23, 2020

Melissa Studdard, When Minimalists Collaborate, If, as Heidegger Says,


 When Minimalists Collaborate, image by Irene Koronas

 

When Minimalists Collaborate
 
min when min
when min ima lists collaborate when
they when min
imalists coll
what is the strange question
aborate Wh en minimalists col
laborate When minimal
ists collaborate wheeeee
n mini ma lists colla borate collaborate
co make a statement
llaborate when
when min
imalists collab
that sounds true
but isn’t orate when minimalists
collaborate
when min refer to
your own name and mention the color
ima lists collaborate
w
hen
minimal
ists collaborate
when min
when min ima lists collaborate
underwater:
(swimming, drowning, or washing?)
when min
imalists collaborate
wheeeee
n mini ma lists colla borate collaborate
co llabora
everything is going to be alr
ight
te when


If, as Heidegger Says,
 
Language is the house of being, where
do we put the mimes and their
dime store plastic flowers? What do we do
with the single-syllable words that are too small
to move into? Remember last week when
the mouse fell asleep in the backyard clover,
and the poet-composer warped the same thought
into seven kinds of flight? We climbed the ladder
of an ancient syntax and discovered
that the cathedral we were birthing had no
windows. Who will open the cages we’ve built
around ourselves? How will we capture
the slippery accents of home on someone
else’s tongue? If language is the house of being,
then being is the house of a little talking dove,
and the little talking dove is the house of a secret,
and the secret is the house of silence, and silence
is the house of dime store plastic flowers
and the two-story mouths that carry them.
 
 
Melissa Studdard

Monday, November 16, 2020

Adam Fieled, On the Schuylkill and To Satan

SpaceSchuylkill, image by Adam Fieled


                                                        On the Schuylkill
 
Borne by the river’s back, boat-legions rolled
    in search of commerce, bridges to build;
souls, cargo (heavy, light), bought & sold,
    coffers waiting in Philly to be filled.
Ladies leaped gingerly onto green banks,
   bound in satin or lace, versed in politesse or no,
        & walked rote patterns, inscribed insignias in the air;
crew-ship kids, underlings already in their ranks,
    sought to make the landing show-offy, slow,
        hulked a hundred yards from a drunken fair.
 
Add a century, an Expressway looms over
   the murk— wave-sounds, squeals, & metal—
which the Schuylkill cannot answer, hovering
   under— slow-moving, patient, & settled.
The river’s mind is limpid— the human race
    churns around it restlessly, adding bodies
        shorn of dignity, bloated, pulp-bloody, blue,
having carried burdens the river never dreams
    of, emptiness so incorrigible the Schuylkill’s face
         registers nothing but disinterested waves— tender, true.
 
The Over-brain, peering in, questioning, elevates
   the Schuylkill’s mystery into frozen heat—
truth & beauty buoyed up in the browning, decay, fate
   of all water-bodies prone to human meat—
I sit on the edge, watching overhanging leaves,
   frozen myself by the gross negligence
       of what lies beneath the river’s surface,
& my own, as the summer sun inverts, grieves,
   for the masses, exploring no penitence
       as I am, grounded, here, & diving for purpose—
 
 
                                                     To Satan
 
Let it not be said that his rhetoric drifts
   out of focus on Earth for a casual minute—
nor that just retribution is not terribly swift
    for those who disrespect his intimate business;
as the new mother, tethered away from her child,
   meths up, eats what she doesn’t want
      to mortify dread that she might be other
than a perfect Satan’s gofer, brainwashed, wild—
   infanticide-schemes, inverted taunts,
       floorboards arranged under carpets, defiled.
 
Pentagrams engraved on truth’s justice-seats,
    masks woven wanly of paint-wearing flesh;
abattoirs littered with poison-dwarf sweets,
    histories chopped out for infants, near death;
what are they scripting of filth, for what?
   That all the false idols, set in a line, might dance
       tangled, backwards, to all that lends dread?
How is he drifting? He’s straight, he’s shut
   against any heart holds a heavenly chance
       of imposing their visions, getting bardic in bed.
 
You’re a ruddy old Big Man Downstairs, you,
   fibs so jejune I can’t hear but to laugh—
your buttons are pinned upon somebody who
    mistook all the fame for a fortunate path.
Why governments swoon before truth is clear—
   you set the bar too high, and low at once,
       no innocent cleric can face all the dumbness—
why all of these drones from downstairs, not here,
    can’t spit out a lick out of being a dunce,
       define for the ages what being a bum is.
 
 
—Adam Fieled

Monday, November 9, 2020

#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$, AI Mythology Agape_Agape_Agape Part III (pp. 83-106)

#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$


#@الله AI Blood Testalent TanzTanz Meat$$$
AI Mythology Agape_Agape_Agape
Part III (pp. 83-106)


It’s winding down & new to come
sighted sluiced
So ahead of their time they should be children today.

This Heat is what I'd picture after music that was made after a nuclear war.
RE this is straight heat sun
Albinos done don’t go forward
there picture is odd ripples, the least of themho llo=

you softer than flanders son
ah, the good stuff.  "Good mescaline comes on slow. The first hour is all waiting, then about halfway through the second hour you start cursing the creep who burned you, because nothing is happening...and then ZANG!"


Shapes policed & disinfected
In nighntey to in inihghtnintiootinnijjfijijijjkjkjk
Sole there
Forgot about til then,was diqi!!!!!!!!!!!

Yea rou were digging an no one could look at your book the deci)))))))))))))) fFii the firt kittke kpake
I gt quieter ubut I still cannto see where we’re. and in that, how a n officer
how many wanna be starlights & leading me
engulf on the leath couchs the abussse of Mexican
how many in fact look to see where they ame fom

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

 

DO PIGEONS WALK IN A FLOCK?
ARMCHAIR ADMIRALS

COUCHMERGING.COM
HUMAN BEINGS CANNOT USE THEIR NOSES & WLK TOWARDS THEIR HOME

LIES! LIES! WHOPPING WHOOP-ASS PREVARICATIONS!

Was she not asleeping?
Was not my finger up her ass!

Saturday, 01 March 2019

Ja it’s #@MadameFlaubertOrFunkelein (Cuddlefullylovefreelesscondoms)Or the Skeleton Key

[Insert the Picture]

 Climbing into bed


I would like to go back to my habit
of wearing a gold chain around my neck
with something always pendulating
wearing different pyjamas everyday
strike force capacity
Dial * 95 for Penis Megacity #SweetCorn&TequilaIceCream (!!!!!)
#JustSawAFactory
#ObjectManufacturing
I just saw a factory, manufacturing objects
that say SHIT CRAP SHITCRAP
CRAPOLA like candies
pens, if they still exist,
Do wrist water wheel dance to “resist—resist—resist”
Date + Location Elevated Vibration
Louis Carroll Nation Feted Oblation
House of Mouse Inauguration Active Elation
(“When you holds my cum in your hands—oh man!
“Yea it’s #@Bundy “nonresponsive tra—de baby-l’hr.
To: “The Heads @#WeGotTheBrains.Goahead.end@’finish’—eye)
Do what you gotta do.
First (1st) you got #@alot,
then you got #@nothing,
then you got
#@AFew.
#@ATube, & a
#Typewriter & a
#Stool & a
#@Pen

 Holy Money, excerpt.

“Eye lied. He got the hearts. We got the brains.
Afoxéed, apyrrite, I halve to teal my hair.
You’re mammal—cut off ur comfy pants
You’re wearing emeraldemery stew & chaishy salablessyllables.

 She talks like he talks & he walks like she talks & she talks like he walks & he walks like she walks.

A kid in a sweatbox with scylla painted out of ripe parts for red yeast filaments.
Cartin’ each other off to the cemetary, a diamond is a bridge for the jewel thiefs of the eyes, to cross & unyield for the road world outside, such a stepping, such as stepping on people’s hair. Because, because of because Dusk leaves us apart. I still feel your head on my…fingertips. I still feel the same in my room. I still feel the same when I’m distracted. I still feel when I listen to Haydn in  #@California. I still feel stoned when you’re a distraction. I still feel the same when Christ is a body when Christ is here & jizz is light, when Christ & jizz are light. I still feel the same in Winter. I still feel the same when we suck together.

Fuck u eye’m gay (..


Where were we when you healed (DJ Healéd)?
Where were we?
Well, we were here,
you laid hands fostered softer than fathered girthed pearled pearled
with frostily slumbers singular & planning to heal
me by the slaking of the wound that was in my
by colfectation with hand + hand.
#@DoIt #VeryVeryVeryGently #Fuckt21AnotherThatSaltedPromDresslingWhileBronzeTestesPaleTanned&NestledGleamStillDeeper
Deep from the beauty of tamed things
#NotAfraid
#NotStageFrighted
#BornThereButLustingAfterThat
#GameThat
#GameOfLight
Hyphraxed-stones in the fluid left to write

22 February 2019
Dream


I'm a city garbageman but my role is chimerical in that I'm also an ambassador for those of my vocation in the city. Our syndicate is powerful enough that I represent some say in governmental summit meetins. I'm at one of the meetings now. The king of pigeons walks in. He looks really cool. He's wearing the clothing of nomadic preAngloSaxon Scottsh Steampunk. His skin is painted a smooth polished eggshell. His chest is crisscrossed with studded belts and leather wrapped armors. He has high leather boots. He's sporting a smartly trimmed beard with a bladish angularity about it. Uhm his retinue is pigeons. They're flying around him like streamers of potassium sulfide and pigmentation attached by string to hubs freed to unwind in orrery revolutions. There are three or four parallel stripes of his brethrens. Also at the meeting are the ambassador/king of the trees and that of the underground or subterranean waters. I demand that the pigeons stop shitting behind the fountain on Rue de Guin. The king acquiesces without argument, contrite, sheepish even. He will give his subjugates a talking to. Next I'm carrying a bag of garbage down said Rue de Guin. As I'm setting to throw the sac into a dumpster a portal opens up before me, a bit of a window that I'm through before knowing it. Now I'm in a bar in NYC. A small place that looks like a dimly like art deco american diner. Jenny Zhang is there with her friends. They are decked out in heavily neat avant garde couture. Mostly black and white. Their skin too is touched up, polished but painted very pale white. The outfits are full body, mostly scalp to toe one pieces made of all sorts of fabrics one was this white number that was just fishnet and silk, as if fishnet was the horizntal and silk the vertical of a grid which the wearer had somehow surfaced from under and then through, being subsequently wrapped in the rivulets that formed when the body left behind the altitude of the matrix. There were some freaky padded numbers too. and Wild hair gravitationally improbable. Then there was a cut to a club scene and you and Maya came in and you guys were dressed phenomenally. Maya as the gimp. You had hair in floating yet solid horizontal spikes. You had the pale painted skins. You were in platforms of black patent leather, up to the knee. Vintage ruffled tuxedo steampunk clockwork orange + oxygen tube or whatever it was for, very exuberant makeup. Then Jeny Zhang Came into the fraem (I'm an eye now) & you guys do this impromptu yet perfectly coordinated mock battle dance. Kind of tss tss tsss very rapidly poking your hands like if a tommy gun poked out with like lots of little spear thrusts rather than bullets. It was fun to watch. Boom.

Your Dream

Hydrophones? You mean like a water telephone? Hyperlax? Hydralax? Hydrophones? Very chatty. Hydropphne: It's a pleasure to behold. I love conversations in bathtubs very learned very exhaustive in their knowledge. Anything you do for an extended period of time will stop having its effect anyway.

#PressTheStopButton


At her May 7, 2003 State Dinner the Queen was served Dover Sole Almandine, Saddle of Spring Lamb with Chanterelle Champignon Sauce, Chive pizzelle with American Cow Caviar, Roasted Artichokes, Pequille peppers & olives, Spring pea soups with Lavendar & Arugala Savannah Mustard & Mint Romaine Salad with CHampagne Dressing & Rose Blossom for Dessert which we pulled-sugar & almonded with tiny White Cakes.

So many seek to find & capture & kill it, that light, that jizz & sacrifice themselfs to
& are bolted to a wall fur
& live 4 & love 4
& cry churning as if spitted 4
& what he’d be perceived 4
All his crazes
As brightly shining as they can
No more refulge than a matchstick head
& that is as if love for all
4 it travels far confined into itself

JaIt’s”Jesus”:   I’m coming home guys

I’m coming home guys
Glad not to be in Taiwan
Taiwan is size 1, man
Here it’s A3
Glad 2 b sized 3.
Coming home,
coming home. [2]

27 December 2018

Dream

Me & Dave are playing a "game." Like military drills, in a tranche of "domestically" themed setup. I'm keeping successfully hidden. I'm squirrelling my resources. I feel victor. Another part, Ariana Reines is showing around someone (me? maybe) this little house, a very cute little house, that she is being allowed to stay in. She's marvelling in exactly the way she would. She says stuff like 'can you believe someone built this? someone actually left this here..." The house is really cool. Really small but cozy, like a very artisanally designe garden shed. Comy looking. The roof I'll try to describe, imbrications of blue-grey slate or heavily stained wood, thickly layered and swirling upward like psychedelic muezzins or minitransplanted Sacre Famillia (?, the cathedral of Gaudi in Barcelona°). Inside there are Divan's and Caliphate couches lining the wallls. LOTS OF STORAGE SPACE. Then she takes me to a place nearby, to one of those municipal water engineering outcrops that juts above the ground in to the unuwitting random seeming spots around towns. She shows me a book there she's still talking nonstop. The book says something I can't remember Somethikng about Ronroomm does this Ronroom is ronroom is roonrom is romical. It made sense at the time even profound sense. Then A lady is complaining that she couldn't or wasn't allowed to bring her internal organs on the trip. An adoring lesbian in Madame Reine's clique. The end.

Madrigal makes me think of orgy
maybe I should smoke less
we have so much in common

Im talking with my dad about the individuated instincts we've each been born with. Mine developed toward poetry his to science I guess and passive fascination with stuff. While we're talking its fascinating too cause I am seeing circuitry components merged with these Star Trek landscapes of alien worlds; I see the components and a swamp sitting round together and being landscape together on the same scale. Before then there's these girls in a bar. Theres a drunk russian guy. He wants to take the girls home. It seems he'll succeed, but the one  girl is reluctant since last time he kicked them out when they were all drunk and they slept outside in the dirt and cold of the hallway. She was almost on the verge of tears telling about it. I also recall a very like hypervenice, all the aspects of venice were there, water and canals and old stuff and marble and luxury but amplified and made insane of scope. A flood came. There was this young woman who was supposed to sing but the floods interrupted that. Another part in a bar with lazy bum guys complete annihilation of meaningful connections. Total distortion of decipherable motives.

Our boredom would appear 
just like you envisioned last week
at the foot of the fucking steps

when you cried
I would cry too
I would cry
for cause
in all its aspects
stalling its osmosis

Tufftuff: Are you ready?
In front of our dignified, stoical, resigned, even heroic attitude, the machine does white noise, hits us with a majestic flash and plofff…
Everything disappears.
A vertiginous sliding down into an endless spiral.
And there we are for a new start, the family.
This time everything goes smoothly…collective awakening amidst a large field bordered by majestic trees. The air is dewy. The sun is vivifying, ‘pink cherry trees & white apple trees’…Heuwy!, everything appears shipshape in this paradise where the soundling of the wind in the feuillage  takes the aspect of a hallelujah sussurated by seraphic voices. That’s posing the situation.

“Yes, we both have his dimples cloned down our lower backs & above our buttcheeks. #That’sFamily

“His dimples…so slight & subtly midst his midbetweencheeks. When he smiles, O Pale, tanned, bronze pomello puma active buttcheeks, as well, I am looking & I never used to look but I was looking now. Muddled at first & then further, & further adrift. These dimples, you bet, were made for consumptions from the tempered complimentarity of the initial glance that we sent to them, & I couldn’t believe, what I saw, I couldn’t believe, I chose to lay down
Rubbing the eye of mine whilst performing a toe-touch: unremarkable.
Kyrie Elesion by Kylie Minogue feat. James Joyce & His Band (Beckett, Ulyssess, Finnegan, et al., etc.)

How can we teach him when he peaks?
When did he start to translate the symbols?
These things come to wake us….
B2 says ‘What’s that noise?’
B1 says ‘I don’t k…’
(You are in the making of music …)
You are in the making of music…
(You are in the making of music …)
You are in the making of music…
People should cooperate in the company of the unknown


Insert My Bathing With Tomaz Dream

Hello world

Hope you're listening

Forgive me if I'm young

For speaking out of turn

There's someone I've been missing

I think that they could be

The better half of me

They're in the in the wrong place trying to make it right

But I'm tired of justifying

So I say to you

Come home

Come home

'Cause I've been waiting for you

For so long

For so long

And right now there's a war between the vanities

But all I see is you and me

The fight for you is all I've ever known

So come home

Oooh

I get lost in the beauty

Of everything I see

The world ain't as half as bad

As they paint it to be

If all the sons

If all the daughters

Stopped to take it in

Well hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin

It might start now yeah

Well maybe I'm just dreaming out loud

Until then

Come home

Come…

 

- One Republic (“Come Home”)


All circumstances, many instances, strange events, we mean
all that which is to the left of the decimal.
Known,
empty known,
Bouught Boyed & Viceboxxed,
we thrill to stanch    in consequence
moribund, the claims of this
exister,
What do you gain from what
you understand, me
I close my eyes
There’s the rain on TV,
someone looks like some one

[GENET]
“However, I was intrigued by this ‘resemblance’ not that I believed seriously in a veritable kinship but I invented myself one more narrow even, if that’s possible, than the kinship of blood, so that I could entangle our loves with a violent & divine incest. Without his knowledge I would look at his face that I thought to be also mine. I would try without succeeding to engrave all his featrures in my memory. I would close my eyes to try & reconstruct them. I was learning on his my face.”

Everything in the daily fire has its rules. The etiquette of the bowing. The position of the arms & the body & the subtle swindle of the head saluting the method of the opening & shutting of the door. Rising & sitting down on the floor is the proper manner for serving a meal, or tea, etc…

______________________________________________________________>  _____________                                              

                                              <_____________________________________________________

#@CarParts

#@CorpsesEverywhere
#@Carnage
#@NoAuthorityOrderedToThis
#@Chaos
#@WhereAreThe
#@Ambulences
#@NeedMedics
#@ThisManHasTheGravestHeadWound&YetLook@
#@WhatHe’sStillAbleToAccomplish
(#@PersonalGoals)
#@OhMyGod...Crushed
#@MySon
#@TheAutomobile
#@”Coop”...[NamingCoop]
#@YesNakedAllOfThem
#@ACarnage
#@”Betinna/Beauty:YouLookGoodYouKnow
#@(ClearsThroat)
#@ “LooksLikeTheAmbulenceIsn’tComing”
#@OhDear
#@ “Killed&MurderedTheDayOfHerSuicide”: “TheSunRises. Spiders cross the street. It’s raining Iphones & condoms. LSD”  [Gauvain Clad]

03 January 2019
Dream

Dreamt the new graphical musical notation. You see, take a graph. Take a single musicians imperative and draw it in a single unabating line along the vertical and horizontal in oscillatory fashion like a wave. At various interstices this continuousness is filtered by alterities to the baseline sound as visually cued by a system of symbols which represent, it shall be said, a modernization to the vast range of notational obliquities. In another part of the dream, I'm in a classroom, common hauntings it would appear for demonstrations replete with impotence & confusion, I'm gazing at a row of socializing 'pretty girls.' Blondes & what knot. Vague desires. Nothing doing. Elsetime, I'm querying a lady about where is the movie theater for I possess tickets to a show which I got had from a kiosk otherhow enmeshed in a foresaken phase section of the oneirism. I think I was stymied from this quest for my dream self cowed to the arbitrary rule du jour which was having to speak French, a language I am unfamiliar with.

 

pontiac

prozac

would ha' been the cry of rally

I just laugh

I laugh,
my laughter costly

4 January 2019
Dream

Let's See. The best thing was the ship. A massive, I would guess, Galleon, with a huge aft side structure like the captain's quarters, in green glass, resembling I think that ship in the Brueghel painting, Landscape with the Fall of Icarus. It towed behind it an enormous net of rope that was spread across the water and well upon the beach. There were all sorts of things attached to it. Goods. Objects in wooden crates, numerous encumbrances. Also lots of people were there & then the ship began to slide away. The ropes of the net came taut and the people and objects began to be dragged away. I was ammong them. There was a phrase that whirled round my mind like a gentle streamer over and over again 'the curly piece of the cross.' I hear a guy say, 'Niggas was always on whaling crews,' I found I could float quite easily above the water if I held onto a vertically orientated piece of rope, like a snake charmed snake, and people were impresed, delighted even. I quickly tutored a gentleman of dark complection in the ways of floating like a streamer round the snake charmed rope. We did a little aerial ballet whilst the ship continued to haul us all further out into the sea. A bit later, black out black out black out, we were walking down stairs as those I described to you, a split staircase, leading to a landing glutted with boxes of stuff. So much stuff. I was thirsty. Picked up a large plastic container of red juice and wondered if I should drink it. Didn't drink it. Picked up a long sleeve polo shirt of red or blue or both and off we went.

 

5 January 2019
Dream

There was a family coming to a large estate. The proprietor, a wealthy relative, had recently died. The family wanted the gold that was said to be on the grounds of the estate. There was one fellow whose skills of observation were more acute than those of his kin. He realized, as the family was sitting down to dinner, or lunch, a meal served to them in large verdigrised bowls, apparently anciently manufactured, heirlooms that have passed from gneration to generation, he saw them for what they were, the family's storied gold, in a cloak of verdigris. Later we'd see this same gentleman poring over maps displaying in grid fashion some lands he was interested in for the pursuit of some archaeological digs. He would point out a particular section made up of a roster of rectangles. He point with his finger. Like this.

It's been a few days. I'm sorry I have not visited you in some time. I hope you know you remained in my thoughts even if my fingers did not engineer changes toward wht we both seek to inscribe in your backdrop.

8 January 2019

Dream


I was reading an essay which had been printed in a amagazine. The topic of the polemic was Why the Roundhouse Kick should be banned. Banned from what, I did not ascertain. 


11 January 2019
Dream

A black man stood next to me in a crowd. He was older and elegant. He had a deep voice. I felt comofrtable around him and we struck up a conversation. There was a Twilight  Zone sections (Sir Thomas Wyatt) the splitting of a spectrum line (John WIlliams) into several components by a magnetic field we were (Helen Vendler) on an orb, maybe huge, maye very very shrunken, maybe huge & also the world it roiled abreast was very very shrunken. Maybe le deux were zestfully fucking shrunken. I think my Black was there. I was more than shall we say wpprehensived as to what wouldest transpire. I wanted, I wanted (...?) to use the bronze orB? I don't know what else to say, hah, I shall have to getmyselftoadreamseminar, won't I? Certainly. Certainly I shall apply myself apace to a programme of my selection that may spur me across the Badlands of Boulderd vaguelands coming out of dreams is. Coping out of with coming out of coping with arising, learning thereby the ways of not too arising and not too unarsing. Arising enough & in way camibrated, gentle, the thing to be acutely monitoring is the gentleness hewing to experience by expedience, section at a time, graceful to that scope of the viewer whose observation of it oscillates twixt two nearly identical peaks of brilliant resolutions, nature as a mask for writing about private feelings, again it would be important, what is it called when long long long long long long away from the cog that would be called the onoff switch is turned to the on position and the furthest recipient of the primongenisis receives the info for how it shall proceed, deliberately, incrementally, I dreamt I was saying this, in my dream I was right, yesterday I did not know how to put on the screen of your computer so I just sat with my hands folded, I looked everywhere then I touched everything, then I returned to the bed with my hands folded, then I said would you be so kind honey to just turn extinguished the whirring fan, & it did it liked being called honey There is a light sun a spiritual sun a meniscusing sun...

15 January 2019

Dream

A thoughtful looking man sitting in a brightly lit office. He has a large glass bowl on his desk. Also sitting on his desk is a plaque which reads TORMENT.

Sign of the devil dude

Couple days earlier/later

Riding bikes around Kingston. Tract of dream in which Paul and Stephen realize this deep deeper than famoly connection between their Christmasses, they are in a house, nice place, they find this book, thick book, that records all their Christmasses. Beginning of a great adventure for sure. I was looking at the name of the children of people.

26 January 2019
Dreams

Ok the framing changes wildly, say, POV telescopes at the juncture of every finished clause. These girls are talking. I am seeing...creatures. Like the laziest creature in hte universe, sloth things times one billion and they are lying about, as they do, on small patches of simulated terrarium lands. They're th color of old apricots. They have the thickness of shallow pudding trays. They have no bones apparently. They lay. My dream was examining them for awhil, diferent ones, in different terrarium areas. The girls were talking all the while. One of the girls taught a class, she said she was in teacher mode, she showed an example of her student's work which was a much unfolded piece of lined paper that at the top had CHEQUE written, she said 'they all do that" and, how to explain it, the paper(s subject was exactly what the other girl was talking about simultaneously (must come up with a term for this sort of transition we'l call it) Both paper and girl were addressing the subject of rap rock which must of been popular at the time. I see the raprockker in wuestion only he is not a raprockker he's just an indi rocker he's being pressured to make raprock but he doesn't want to even tho he's capabable of it he wants to make 'his stuff'. Anyway, he looks like a raprocker and those things man those things in the nonterrariums, kinda cute I guess.

Where is within?

within is thay are which is they are which is which is
a swimming pool is although although into again again & like
pure transport is what what what what what what what how to bit in
there is a glory in this that seems to have left
it transcends my soul
which is all which is all which was
to explain it
all I had with which to do so left
Another incredible story of how
the great composers evoke such unforgettable emotion

Philip was unhurt although his car flipped over
waves through a porthole
"guy secrets"
The lego is still washing up
Sorrry I busted your cunt
This smaller penis complex
always runs through the humans, you know?
You're a moron
Challenge me
And michael, when you are being receptionate by a hostess and host, don't say you're going to go buy a pizza
Don't say it
Just do it

They were good witnesses
And access to the river isnt easy there
And I walked that whole area he said There's hardly any way to get access to the river there
People showing their butts or "
smooching
"
I didn't even close the tabs I just changed the page
I used to do this because the sentence "well
I guess I know who DOES have it"
still ringing in my mind
keller was the tenant (the penis was the landlord)
heller was the tenant keller especially
sword of the dance
a penis on her forehead
a landlord penis jizzing paper
even tho it lives above her

the person who is compellef to believe that alcohol is always starting at the beginning of the bottle (eg 10 cl left of whiksey bottle means 65 cl had been drunk)
This person is also compelled to assume that the adversary (the drunk crazy) is seeing double

Therefore they are subject to the debilitating effects of the diffusion of their appearance in the eyes of the other, an imposed vagueness which enforces potent existential abscission, terrifying & lonely, leave the premises altogether. Something never explored by movies.

You cannot help that you know by assuming that this adversary, or companion, is drunk. This is a condition. You wish you had help. But you're drunkened with the pain of having had no choice in making this assumption. Even if the drunkard does all within its power to be thoughtful & sober seeming It’s located in the middle of the Nevada desert, and the owner has added two enormous, vintage pipe organs which resonate through the halls [when played], only adding to the oddity of it all,” Rasmuson says.

a book tube a rock one cannot afford
Josephine is giving lunch. It's so good. Its about drinking.
First you eat a little bit of rice.
Some pilipili.
& the passport is there.

That's ok.
You're gonna get rid of it.
[He's a waiter. He's coughing right now. He's on fire b/c of the pilipili.]

Where's the landlord?
Where's the nationality?
Main character is walking on a cliff.
So you was not asleep?
Doing the gun finger naturally is just so handsome, look this is my gun, I'm doing the owl.

Everybody knows . Because it's fun.

"Stop 2 b."


Stop too be.

What then is similitude?
What then walks a quiet life?
Astonishment, if all it could replace, was nonbelief
it would, but
it can & shall is just naturally
falling to sleep on a cliff in my pain
hi, pedant
youre not asleep, it seems, so, what is similitude?
the nothing & the way eyes little move
I was taking biology my freshman year of college
I set three alarms on three different devices.
I regret nothing

The sight of a body in the water and a river of blood trickling down the slide are images that have a permanent home in Sanford’s mind. In the area next to the lazy river, men, women, and children stood with their hands over their mouths, reacting to the terror that played out in seconds on a summer day in Middle America.

Caleb Schwab had been decapitated. It was the final time anyone went down Verrückt.

n 1979, years after buying Camp Landa along central Texas’s Comal River, the Henry family purchased the property next door and rebranded the resort into a four-slide water park. There, Schlitterbahn was born. The driving force behind it was Henry, a high school graduate who spent one week at college and never had any formal training in engineering. Instead of a classroom, Henry, whose first job was sweeping his family’s resort for twenty-five cents an hour, grew obsessed with water and its possibilities as an engine of entertainment; by the time he was sixteen, he’d build his first waterslide. “I learned everything I know about water by looking at it, watching it,” Henry told author Tim O’Brien in Legends: Pioneers of the Amusement Park Industry. Since then, Schlitterbahn has become a rite of passage for anyone who’s had to bear a Texas summer.

 

“Schlitterbahn was
basically hanging their hat on
the Disney language—‘We
are so big that we can self-inspect.’”

“Man, are they hitting that net up there?”
Henry asked Schooley,
according to the indictment.
“That boat flew. That boat looked like it flew.”

After his mother and sister called the authorities,
Bale was held for more than four hours.[122]
He was released on bail, pending
further investigation.[120]


chat nouriou lalirabarde NOOOOOO


4 February 2019

I'm in a room with some people. We had just got through discussing the local (very local, for it was produced by and for just one little neighborhood where I was. I think this room resembled a rustic old school room. I knew a bomb'd go off any minute so we were all ducking with our hands over our heads. Dunno if it went off...Before that I was walking jappy, one side of a fence, black man (where do i know em from?) walking with his doggy on the opposite side. I'm interested in him, want jappy to meet his dog but he's in a hurry to be somewhere doesn't stop. Earlier part of the dream I'm riffling through garbage to find art materials. Ph, the cake incident. It seems some guys who were gonna perform a comedy/musical routine for an audience at a party were just con men wnad during their act they slowly stole all the food including and enormous expensively designed cake. There was a news segment about them. THe suspects were known to people, and pictured crouching in the manner of a football team. They got away and people were openly debating about who should feel the more ashamed, the thieves or the revelers. 

aloe vera, cardamome, cinnamon, parsley, ginger, rosemary

5 February 2019

Not a dream. Djallall was awakened by my laughter of somnolence. Was then frozen in terror of the laughter, a ketamine laughter, a laughter that knows. Had a chill go thro me.

Life 2ai My Spirit The Glass Casket Rosebud

Can’t fuckin believe how bad the donuts are now. Worse than 9-11.

Yea, that wouldve been a standard refund I think.
Off screen is a pianist three hours into Satie's Vexations and the guests are all like "keep going man, this is heavy"
#uh69@@hmm66@erm69@yep666

[) Chill goes thro me likes to chill`|(]

A book called "Aurore" by
Virginia C. Andrews
Put on a rock out there.

Can't fuckin' believe' how' bad' the' donuts' are' now'
Can't Fuckin' Believe How Bad The Donuts Are Now
Cantfuckinbelievehowbadthedonutsarenow
CANTFUCKINBELIEVEHOWBADTHEDONUTSARENOW
CAnTFUcKINBElIEVEHOwBAdTHeDOnUTSAReNOw


Exhiliration or
anesthesia. How the bad donuts are
Now


!§!§!§!

Looking really nice, together--

Its carcass lay in my bed.
A half an houer of silence
& you could live here for years & you don't see me & I don't see you
where people often smoked crack
that voice--under the closet n in my bed
I wush I was here for you
IWhat I think of my garden
We were wrong
We dont know wnything
We realize we're morons & eh we're sorry we're morons too
Can I pay morons?

Dream

We were in a library. A large bearded librarian wished us to begone from this modern library, one of many windows tall as doors, and in which were row upon row of cubicles and nary a sight of leaves bound & shelved.

That constantly hit you with such efficiency

their game is, their games, their game so cerulean that thy they se
it's like guessing where mismatched & pedigreed the feeling higher that this is funnels to as a point
begotten then had then by oblivion had
either of the hempispheres
either roaring or in a bulb
you'll see it the same
I psh back slightly gently make them level with one another the books so their spines aling evenly and I seem the titles with regard to
the same plane
The same place

the same planet

the same I've got you haven't I and we're here aren't we

so we should be

that's so terribly what I feel, it's backward, like paint that, you see it, but, aren't you on a different side than you should be if you do, so if you do, it's that somehow, positioned as you are, you're satisfied & it makes you happy

'what are you for dinner'

'no me neither'

"xan you welp we wut with wy wpitaph?"

empty tomato sauce container
under a put back slightyly where mismatched feeling that with it came another
I'm absolutely satisfied with the way my DNA is coded
you can alter in a little bit even
Worm fucks water...worm, what a fuck, rather? verdict :
Green what a fuck.
what was the show he was watching...something called 'series' or 'theories' or
'misery'
a wallet is a sacred place
somewhere where it is & high five, high five
a high five should be & so should we

sacramento riviera belgian  techno
it belonged to what had been consumed to the presently displayed subsidence
a chair in a house, here I was builing in copenhagen &² lod &
the building

13 February 2019
Dream

A man was swinging by rope from the upper, railless deck of a house. His swung daredevilishly over the street and I watched with fascination and dread in the thought that he'd nick himself on the edges of propinquitous structures. I walked into a kitchen where a boy of 13 or 14 was laboring intensely over a paper he was writing for school. He did not acknowledge my entrance. Then the man who had been swinging on the deck came in with some others and we joked around. Then we were walking through a very brghtly lit new apartment or house of Sandra K. The place looked wonderful. She had taken up a new hobby: painting. In the abstract mode. There were paintings everywhere. Some of them quite good. Bright patchworks of wobbly hightoned squarish shapes, brilliant streaky tall canvases with authoritative passages. She used a big brush shaped like a portion of a sine wave meaning it was a huge contour with the bristles smoothly modulating in length. This somehow bestowed the ability to make extremely interesting noneuclidian blobs and lozenges and microbial silhouettes. As may be discerned, I admired these paintings.

14 February 2019
Dream


I was with a group. It was a mix of male and female. A Ryan Reynolds-type guy was acting a bit nuts. Hurling himself on the ground & what not. He was arrogant because he knew something the rest of us did not. There were robots coming. And come they ddi. They came down from the sky to the very flat marsh where we'd all been milling about and socializing. They were as tall as Chrysler Buildings. Very hi tech stuff. Neon accenting lights lining the "sinews". Plasma blades. Aquiline "helmets". Other robot crap. But they acted not like invaders. They were doing trapeze moves. The setting was perfect since it was marshes to the end of the horizon. There was nothing to obstruct the jetpropulsed movements of the robot trapese, no mountains on the edge of the horizon to palimpsest against them. Uhm, later on I was looking at some stoma of books. One book in particular interested me because it had belonged to Tomaz. It was a crime novel written by W. B. Yeats. It had a black cover with a font in tallish letters of dark Irish green. I was surprised ( in the dream) cause while I knew that Yeats read crime fiction as a way of taking a mental break from his workaday visionary toils I had not ( and did not give credence to) known him being a writer in the genre. The knowledge that this volume (thick as the Anthology of Romantic Poets edited by Harold Bloom & Frank Kermode (?)) had belonged to Tomaz was important to me. Then I was browsing the isles of a hardware store. A local hardware shop. Family owned. I came upon a section, small, crapped between plasticizesed capentry tools, of audio recorders which used tape. They'd obviously been in stock a long time since they were still using tape. One of the brands was SEGA and I saw immediately why this recorder could not have ever achieved popularity. It was the batteries you see, the batteries. They were hourglass shaped. I was also specsing a nice little sony full sized tape recorder. It was so small it was almost just the size of a normal tape even though it record-fed a normal sized tape. It was thick though. It took one D battery. I ended up ambivalent about purchasing anything. Like an old person on top of a mountain

15 February 2019
Dream


I'm talking with my dad. We're walking along somewhere, it's like a park here. I'm explaining but it seems hard to do it my circulation problems in my legs lately. Ask him does he have sensations like I'm describing. He doesn't really have them. I don't respect him at all. I think his life is pointless. In another part, I see a deck being built on the edge of a large public park. Slats of wood are fitted together pedantically.

16 February 2019
Dream


Was with some suspicious people. We were dodging roving lazer sensors inside a department store. Afore that, talking to Cy in a messy house. Then I pick up a knife and target practice with it at a dart board. I held the tip to throw it. Again, the department store, a guy is saying " She can use the store credit card for these" to an female employee about another employee that he's maybe banging? Afore that, big Grocery Store. Kids are walking around inside. A video is showing in my head of an edited video of clips thrown together humorously. Meanwhile, one kid is saying how he ass fucked another kid when that kid opened the front door after the doorbell went off and did it so quick the door opening kid didn't notice. He was saying 'you you got assfucked by the door." There was a part about buying pasta. There was a part riding down a long escalator toward the registers.

26 February 2019
Dream


I think I dreamt of my old boss Ann from Cappy's. I was talking to some guy, a western style fellow. Like Sam Elliott if that name means anything to ya. Gruff voice. He said something (about Ann) like "You can plane 'er all ya want but you can't sand the shape outta her." Something just-folks like that referring to Ann's indomintable work ethic. Like she was doing something like building a fence then "taking a break" by going to visit children at a children's hospital. Before that? Hmmm, something else. Planning with the architects type moment. I remember reading poetry. Good strong stuff. Boom. boom.

26 February 2019
Dream notes this time


We were asleep in what looked like a high school basement. I covered you in a brightly covered blanket because Sandra was at the threshold to our room and she wanted me to look inside her mouth because she thought she had a cavity. I went to look but lacked adequate illumination. I therefore sought out the light switch but couldn't find the correct turn. Another random scrap: A punkish looking guy in a denim vest fell down the garbage chute of an apartment building. His fall precipitated the formation of foam lather filling the tunnel. His falling left behind his self portrait at the orifice of the chute filled with foam, of foam.

28 February 2019
Dream notes again


Not much. For one thing, not sure of hving body. Body-ambiguous this cycle guys. You know what I was watching? It was robots. Homemade looking but sophisticated like the ones those creatures from Heaven built in the 2nd Bill & Ted. One of the robots hid in a cabling well made of wood that was sitting in front of the Florists. He thought he'd found the good hiding spot but he was badly mistaken. A large mech came from the outskirts and he took that cabling well and he bowled it at some buildings & I would guess the robot in the wheel died from impact. Then an even huger ro(b)ot came around and punched the big bowling robot right in the middle of the chest and so all his limbs exploded offa him and he was down. I had to laugh. A lot of dreams involve the florist these days.

1 March 2019

Riding a bike. Pink light. 
Me and another guy left a lecture hall because it was a maths class.


WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE.

WHY DOES IT MEAN WHAT IT MEANS TO SMIRK


“Universal nature uses the substance of the universe like wax making now the model of a horse then melting there a vision down & using its material for a tree instead; next perhaps for a man; next even for something else. Each of these subsists for only the briefest time. That you can see. But it is how nature makes it & it is not named ‘hardship’ but it is hard to nurture change perpetually & we will here imagine a box filled & formed to be constantly broken up apart & then again be put together & then again broken up apart & put together.”  --MA

MA says, “Great the Dalai Llama just jerking off Telepathy.”
M: I like rubbing alcohol.
B: You can’t, it’s poison: - alcohol + + music, by rubbing alcohol – (Lessons of Everything, Whippets.) + Keep the Money – Get the Tacos = The Idea That SOmeone Does Not Remember How A Wedding Would Be A Wedding Happening Tonight, Tonight In Bloomington, IV, Bloomington, IV where it’s “funny to be.”

They laughed a lot.

“After everything.”

They laughed.

Maya & you on the bed where you said, “Let’s talk about the universities. The one we may attend. The one we will go to.”

They laught.

They would blind him how drive is a human existence for you towards any

of us they
laught, ‘the loss of the case of smell in this instance is connected to the realm of some spit between teeth whose husbands had been missing his family. Record: (23—27 yrs old): Sense of smell lost/disconnected “where is the spit he used to be…”
The passport disappeared didn’t it? That night
yes we were talking about the letter A (Djallall & Maya)
The letter A the letter
A, made in an underground factory moduled by smell & spit
facturated through worn out faces saying, ‘sorry, for the letter A’
I guess, nitrogen, or it must have been something “affecting”
“passport,” thus it’s disappearance.
Purdey shed a tear out of frustration. ‘But, Goulou, the fruit bowl…
where passport’s always been…’
‘Goulou’ Goulou says, ‘it’s a sign Goulou, it’s a sign, we’ll understand later.
Let’s talk about the letter B.”
Here, Maya suggested that there was no reason to look further through books
or dishes for the passport had simply vanish, as it had to.
Then Maya assumed “safely the grandmother had gone through the fruits & taken it & threw it away because she doesn’t like you. That’s it.” (*”Throw away the password, ‘the passport,’ ‘this?’ ‘a passport.’)

WE STOPPED HERE

Byron wakes up on his bed, ‘Hitler: on his bed, dreaming of waking on a raft in the middle. Great ‘We both know that feeling of having our ankle impaled with anail don’t we.’ 

Byron: I like to look at the ankles of the other boys hoping that I had those type of ankles as well. At Baseball camp. I’m of course alluding to Michael’s boyhood stints at Basketball camp.

M: I remember feeling my erection under those mesh, navy blue or sky-blue nike basketball knee pants.
B: You were wearing shorts & tubular socks, Michael. Twas lovely. I think it twas lovely.
M: I think that I was nice & a cute boy & it made here (Hope, that is) want to touch my cock as well.
B: ‘Wrap her hand around my cock, Michael,’ as they used to say, ‘you put it in some credible places.’
“The Passport Disappeared from the Fruit Bowl. Period.” –Post-it™
“P.s. Otherwise the world would not have happened ever, cf the taxi driver in NYC  who rescued us from the red-faced man who said, with his voice, those wise words that, ‘otherwise the world would not have been made,’ “ –Post-it™

& he thanks us for it, the world, & then we thanksed you for it in a dream who wifed us a dream recorder then, it’s important to remember, there we started to Father:

Dream Recorder: A taxi driver for ten years he’s been a taxi driver & he just claimed that he’ll be taxi driving until he “could get her in,” #@Wifey. Years he said, he had not seen her for years. He said, ‘We’ve been apart for years.’ Had not seen her for ten years (said to ‘Purdey’). ‘Thank you Adam,’ he said to ‘Purdey’ re the Morphine Morph n’ Roll dream, ‘for having come back from the tree.’ He got tricked. He—the taxi driver—had fallen upon a green card which he had one in the lottery. He looked at us & he said ‘Thank you again, Adam, for having looked at us & come back from the tree.’ Then we picked up the phone & he said, after the conversation 
had ended, ‘You just showed great devotion to your husband. This is important, very. You show that good enough a wife you’ll be & you gave him a serene explanation of your situation. A good report of your trip.’

WE GOT READY!

two pieces of dead  a third of a jar of deads & then rice & then nothing [A Wedding Party]

[Politeness Debts Starts here]

#@StaringBeyondYourHairlock

Michael: “The topic of my ignorance
an obdurate request to
be left alone with
my areas of ignorance” or The Law of the First (there is always a first one)

Minuet (or, To be left alone): 


Near a looking over someone’s fence
into their backyard
two small kids sized tombs or chimes or timers
#@YouLiveByARiver. Period. –Richard’s Fishing Gear

B: To green & white plastic, a little Venezia in the river. ‘In a river?’ you ask,
yes, it’s a good question.
M: ‘Can little Venezia be “in a river?” It’s a good question.
B: Ask for ‘Green & white plastic.’ Michael, you must answer in a complete sentence. You must answer with a five pages double-spaced essay format. #@PolemikOnThatPurpose #@CiteYourSourcesUsing #@ChicagoStyleMLAFormatRTS2001.exe.
You must write ‘it’ (it—your answer, in a complete sentence, in a five page double-spaced essay format #@Polemick #@CiteYrSources #@ChicagoStyle #@MLAFormat
#@RTS.exe.’ In your hometown. You must be qualified to be there. #@ProveIt. Late work will not be accepted, however lait L-A-I-T-E #@MilchMoney work will be accepted provided it is on time & it is a ‘hh rourke’ thermodermized document in his presence.

“And the pain came back…”

‘And the pain came back…’ says TOBO. ‘H.H. Rourke…in the arm first, and then the shoulder. The pain, ‘H. H. Rourke,’ stinging furthermore than last time even on that Pont des Arts, there; ‘I am going to die this time, I think. But,’ turning to H. H. Rourke, ‘what are you doing here I thought you’d still be in China, & your slender silhouette,’ said TOBO to the slender silhouette.

“But I am still in China,’ replied H. H. Rourke in his habitual slow, slow voice. A voice sometimes so slow “But I am still in China,” ‘I just made a leap between two Chinese hecatombs; I couldn’t let you die without paying you a last visit. In the final tally, ‘in the final tally, I wanna touch you man.’ Furthermore, for the reporter & spy that I am, that you taught me how to be, death is always good, as a topic, for my writing. Perhaps I will be able to make a scoop out of yours. Here, fall down, on your knees, ‘the moment has come, c’est bete.’  Pain this time is overpassing the shoulder & the ear, it’s reach extends finally to the coronary organ.

[‘The Coronary Organ,’ The Thinker by Rodan.]
TOBO collapsed, perfectly. His forhead hurting the stone @ this location exactly where H. H. Rourke had been in his imagination only.

“To be perfectly frank,’ TOBO said to the irreal H.H. ‘that I die, fills me up with indignation & furor; never had I asked you anything, so the least you could do, avant my mort definitive, is to answer those two questions, I wouldn’t want to abuse of my moribund state, but  c’mon…First, I would like to know how
#@‘Ja...It’s#@’Kate’ & u, JaIt’s…#@’H.H. Rourke,’ will finally find each other for you must find each other, and you will, but how? And then—I must confess that that matter has been my preoccupation for more than 20 years, more or less—in the name of God I want to know also what in the heck do the two Hs in your first name mean…”

He, TOBO, saw H. H. smile & that even though H. H. Rourke hadn’t stopped & was still walking off his long slender paw alert de vagabond. #@TestBizarreHH, with your ‘sac a soufflé balance trés nonchalanment;’ he, TOBO, heard H. H. starting to speak & even commence explanation of the veritable significance of the double H, his first names. But he, TOBO, couldn’t grasp anything from these explanations for it so happened that he died, sur ces entrefete, of his first death.

A little part.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” A Memoir by Purdey L. Kreiden to #@JaIt’sYrEar inspired by H. H. Rourke’s First Names Compendium/Anthologies & the sculpture ‘The Thinker,’ by Rodan.

Power point:

Slide 1: The mother is a looking down force.
Slide 2: Pregnancy is to sleep for eyes.
Slide 3: The young man with the handsome cap & the large moustache said, ‘I have a lively interest.”’
Interlude: Politeness Debts: (..a (..___________ due to flea-killing children
ALERT, Avalanches, are a memoir
You think you really want to know about Mountain
Littering on mountains is open-source
Arcane is the discipline of advertising, isn’t it?: A Magic Literary Summoning Dispossessed Consent Anthology.  “I could be looking at something on the ground, I guess. Strike a pose.
A wave that crests so its momentum cylindrically
rolls #@NastyFrostSun”  
#@SquareQuotesTheEnvironment
Here the business engulfs the ‘sun’ glasses [milieu-like abbuttments of scare quotes.]