Bellum Letters Revisited

look at how young these people are

dancing makes us human

what happens there in the occult deserts

the dissonance

the matrix contains a beleaguered pop star (does she still want to do this?)

weapons |

commercial pop's infectious repetitions

like we've been here before

like we are all just trying to find a way to make it bearable

it's so hot. who lives here? who gets to live?

google anything you want. pretend it isn't there if we can't see it.

Meditation on Plastic

as if I could press myself into a piece of wax

as if it could retain us

we retain it

we make mention of detritus

we accumulate its bits

on top of everything: pianos

falling down, ruined

the place where her lips were

there were lip prints

a synthetic rope made into knots

unweaving itself -- unthreaded

six thousand petroleum snakes

just six thousand of millions

there are too many to count

I count myself among the ruined

I, ruiner --

to say it makes the shapes tremble

I have been busily writing/making poems, but they are on little scraps of paper all over the place. I will work on posting them here.

On an elevator / of human fingerprints / of the most delicate / fixity

"a single hurt color and an arrangement in a system to pointing"

"Nature is a haunted house--but Art--is a house that tries to be haunted."

Today, I'm thinking that I'll be making a poetic object or poem in response to a favorite line of poetry or poem for NaPoWriMo. I'm thinking of it as a sort of commonplace book/quilting project.

Also, the Poetry Booth debuts this Thursday, April 7th. If you are in the area, please come make a poem with us!