bay poetics cento with first, last, and middle lines from kari edwards (1954-2006)
| maybe at the next stop; a double feature with buttered popcorn ~ a city in which order is not yet established there are those who pronounce flaneur and sent geek armies to reinforce language but consumed by patchwork for the smack so personal bleeds color from the mind the clumsy flutter surfacing to air of crashing it unites the way of unites to spare you the Palo Alto allegory in the place where computers come to die “cut ways in it,” they said ~ narcoleptic parking lot/in my head street cleaning in my cocktail uniform a partnership or a criminal action will always get a seat on the bus coupled legs/and a birdbath in the corner and vegetable crates risotto of morels, spring onions and chervil cut edge of spring grace knocks on my door, too ~ two lines of pencil seal the same true thought try and encompass and you cannot a health of the mass, from which to register the mostillusion mainstream to be in California another bogus radicand an abstraction grounded in the material sensibility of division a mixture of stock footage and miniatures connected by passages of poetry without even an imaginary or dead person (attached) ~ they grew apart and he wrote a song did we ever live without music and the act of being selfish they would rather it was not there at all “we are not required to agree” to pronounce Britney stupid (or co-opted, if you must) It is satisfying to cut, cut, cut she cannot spin straw into gold she reads to me about utopias ~ I am the word the available thing I am connected to a phone tree it is my country and I am sorry I do own a shoe rack I too cut my hankerings, but promptly “I’m channeling some heavy shit” I worked as a ghostwriter for an illiterate I am not able to get off work I think I still believe that i knew i would dream ~ i keep asking for a door with meaning ~ I think of poems that founder that are mid- Repetition. Day’s lily like this. BlakeOfEquinox sings to Numb the -------- of gravity iblical tea timed TV cut glish scratches Words like dreck make the scene their suffering [meaning a self] ~ no set hours to go in and work but they are paying me $75 an hour and water was my dirty name she cut the thick substance forming between them the whirlwind drawing in one was born trackless having survived, because of the hard seed we report flash floods in north north of market’s shopping center mecca’s the power plants and dams – containers made of steel ~ you read the spines from the books jig-sawed through a vivisection a smoothie wasn’t so smooth the second time we can feel it in our lungs in practicality’s overpass where charred bodies now hang they certainly like nausea where divine things factor their dicks out grace = cash could have been spent on dentistry ~ the forced door of weather cuts the thought, at once wine forces your focus one never gets to say so anymore and you my bright particular thank you is that where music functions as frosting one song, the song added or cakes in great number the refusal of the birds to change their ways ~ this is how to cut it the granite grace of terror not like gardens, but underneath the popcorn seller is shown to possess the same character been raped is getting up again to go on, past the draperies the extended season of mandarins incomplete without her pencil and circular “o” can’t fuck with bedrock, so good thing it’s not bedrock like having the power to move around taken away ~ i am lollygaggin’ towards separation, going west, following the sun 11.30/12.06 [more on kari edwards, with further links, here and here] |