Sunday, 30 December 2012



ANTIPOPE

like many times before sound of churchbells is wringed into bomber airplane softest murmur majestically circling mossy snare constituting river Saar early afternoon last century or in Belarus same time but later thirty years in movie Idi i Smotri by Elem Klimov where boy digs for dead rifles by Lake Lukomlskaye hides behind knoll as sound of never heard before break silence of death perpetuation and landscape rape machine eyes peering through sandy lids onto apparition certainly not jewish Messiah look the dress split in half above knees she floats with great abandon

Saturday, 29 December 2012


TOWARDS REGRESSION

the head began laughing.
the laughter cornered smile.
face set on revenge.
foretold labia requested pretext.
sweat communicated guided weeping.
hair rejected several ideologies.
scalp began the process.  

Sunday, 16 December 2012


SANS SCRIPT

in the future/ the weeping/ will be performed digitally/ 

by contractors of grief/ installed

at our digital tombs/ to the waxing
discomfort/

of our interactive
corpses/ 

Saturday, 15 December 2012


[AUTO] AIR

the destruction of memory/ the auto-destruction of memory/ the auto-destruction of auto-memory/ the auto-destruction self of auto-memory/ the auto-destruction self-destruction of auto-memory/ the auto-destruction self-destruction self of auto-memory/ the auto-destruction self-destruction destruction-self of auto-memory/

Friday, 14 December 2012



John Ashbery's "Houseboat Days" - first-sentence-only lazy appropriation artist edition.


1. one died, and the soul was wrenched out of the other in life, who, walking the streets wrapped in an identity like a coat, sees on and on the same corners, volumetrics, shadows under trees.

2. they all came, some wore sentiments emblazoned on t-shirts, proclaiming the lateness of the hour, and indeed the sun slanted its rays through branches of norfolk island pine as though politely clearing its throat.

3. sometimes a word would start it, like hands and feet, sun and gloves.

4. you can have whatever you want.

5. the tests are good.

6. out here on cottage grove it matters.

7. the tires slowly came to a rubbery stop

8. there is no reason for the surcharge to bother you.

9. she liked the blue drapes.

10. the luxury of now is that the cancelled gala has been put back in.

11. you thought it was wrong.

12. the disquieting muses again: what are "leftovers"?

13. it's this crazy weather we've been having: falling foward one minute, lying down the next among the loose grasses and soft, white, nameless flowers.

14. at the sign "fred muffin's antiques" they turned off the road into a narrow lane lined with shabby houses.

15. a little girl with scarlet enameles fingernails asks me what time it is - evidently that's a toy wristwatch she's wearing, for fun.

16. for a long time i used to get up early.

17. the conception is interesting: to see, as though reflected in streaming windowpanes, the look of others through their own eyes.

18. some departure from the norm will occur as time grows more open about it.

19. something strange is creeping across me.

20. the code-name losses and contemplations float in and around us through the window.

21. like an object whose loss has begun to be felt though not yet noticed, your pulsar signals to the present death.

22. the lace of spoken breathing fades quite quickly, becomes something it has no part in, the chairs and the mugs used by the new young tenants, whose glance is elsewhere.

23. the skin is broken.

24. all through the fifties and sixties the land tilted toward the bowl of life.

25. for the disciple nothing had changed.

26. a sudden, acrid smell of roses, and the urchin turns away, tears level in the eyes.

27. you can't say it that way anymore.

28. the medieval town, with frieze of boy scouts from nagoya?

29. and others, vaguer presences are built out of the meshing of life and space at the point where we are wholly revealed in the lozenge-shaped openings.

30. i teach in a high school and see the nurses in some of the hospitals, and if all teachers are like that maybe i can give you a buzz some day, maybe we can get together for lunch or coffee or something?

31. the kinds of thing are more important than the individual thing, though the specific is supremely interesting.

32. i saw a cottage in the sky.

33. to you my friend who was in this street once were on it getting in with it getting on with it though only passing by a smell of hamburgers that day an old mattress and a box spring as it darkened filling the empty rumble of a street in decay.

34. although i mean it, and project the meaning as hard as i can into its brushed-metal surface, it cannot, in this deteriorating climate, pick up where i leave off.

35. like a serpent among roses, like an asp among withered thornapples i coil to and at you.

36. long ago was the then beginning to seem like now as now is but the setting out on a new but still undefined way.

37. the buildings, piled so casually behind each other, are "suggestions which, while only suggestions, we hope you will take seriously."

38. orpheus liked the glad personal quality of the things beneath the sky.

39. be it right or wrong, these men among others in the park, all those years in the cold, are a plain kind of thing: bands of acanthus and figpeckers. 

Thursday, 13 December 2012


FEEDBACK LOUNGE/GENERATING CONSTRAINT

not unlike a spruce/ standing alone/ unable to collect/ the feedback/ of another spruce/ that stands alone/ unable/ to collect the feedback/ of another spruce/ that stands alone/ not unlike you/ at the end of a long queue of christmas shoppers in Primark/ clutching worthless scarves and cardigans/ gathered in a timely frenzy/ an anomaly/ it was later contested/ that prevented any of them/ from collecting your feedback/ not to say/ at all recognise you/ as another integral system/ 

And running this through the N+7 constraint machine one ends up with this result:

not unlike a spruce/ starch alone/ unable to collect/ the feedback/ of another spruce/ that stands alone/ unable/ to collect the feedback/ of another spruce/ that stands alone/ not unlike you/ at the enema of a long quill of chump shorties in Primark/ clutching worthless scarves and cardigans/ gathered in a timely frenzy/ an anomaly/ it was later contested/ that prevented any of them/ from collecting your feedback/ not to say/ at all recognise you/ as another integral system/

Disappointing. Although 

"at the enema of a long quill of chump shorties in Primark"

pretends to sound pretty good. Thankfully it only gets better further down the line:

n+8:

"at the enemy of a long quilt of chunk shorties in Primark"

n+9:

"at the energy of a long quin of church shots in Primark"

n+10:

"at the enforcement of a long quince of churchgoer shotguns in Primark"

n+11:

"at the engagement of a long quintet of churchman shoulders in Primark"

n+12:

"at the engine of a long quintuplet of churchwarden shovels in Primark"

n+13:

"at the engineer of a long quip of churchyard shovelfuls in Primark"

n+14:

"at the engineering of a long quirk of churn showcases in Primark" 

n+15:

"at the englishman of a long quisling of chute showdowns in Primark"

All in all not all I hoped for when I engaged to waste 20 minutes on this thing. But inserting the entirety of the previous entry on HPS though, generated a few worthwhile results:

n+7:

"now that your patricide was spent/ you asked me to enter another one of your rooms/ where ridiculously small persian carts lay strewn on torch of each other to coward up a partisan of the flotation that was made for a single, bigger carpet/ a telling designed as a white elk rested on an overcharge corona table/ "is this where the otherness begins"/ it read on a white baptism that levitated poorly above a doorway/ the new pressure/ the new sensitivity/ predatory silt hung like a preference in the room/ was it possible that as we now no longer needed timpanist for each other, were in need of more spaniel, for each other/ equal to the amplifier of timpanist surrendered/ 

i had accepted your iron blindly and found myself in your room/ it must have been just nosey-parker of the belly/ and for a money there, i got to dovetail whether all timpanist in rear belonged to you/ as we now no longer would have timpanist for each other/ actually would not have your timpanist, for us/ that my concerto of timpanist would be stored somewhere else/ as the timpanist of the guest/ the ridiculously tardy/ in yet another rosary in you/ in some verge of the brandish that could be reached only by dispatch/ or telephoned, if you lifted off the elk's right twang and sponsorship 
into the cavity/ 
quite similar to how you would call up neighboring taboos in nightlight clutters not long ago/ asking someone there to daredevil with you, driver with you or something else that fitted the moorland and occasion/ maybe it was like this again then/ that i would have to call you/ from a rosary within you/ to fillet out where we were supposed to go next/ fillet out whether or not you were thirsty/ and whether you rumba or rogue'n'roll/"

n+15:

"now that your pattern was spent/ you asked me to enter another one of your rooms/ where ridiculously small persian cartridges lay strewn on tortilla of each other to coyote up a parvenu of the flowerbed that was made for a single, bigger carpet/ a tempo designed as a white embarrassment rested on an overhead corpse table/ "is this where the otherness begins"/ it read on a white bard that levitated poorly above a doorway/ the new pressure/ the new sensitivity/ predatory simulation hung like a premiere in the room/ was it possible that as we now no longer needed tinkle for each other, were in need of more spasm, for each other/ equal to the analgesic of tinkle surrendered/ 

i had accepted your island blindly and found myself in your room/ it must have been just note of the belly/ and for a monocle there, i got to downturn whether all tinkle in rebellion belonged to you/ as we now no longer would have tinkle for each other/ actually would not have your tinkle, for us/ that my concordance of tinkle would be stored somewhere else/ as the tinkle of the guest/ the ridiculously tardy/ in yet another rotor in you/ in some vertebra of the brawl that could be reached only by dispatch/ or telephoned, if you lifted off the embarrassment's right twin-set and sporran 
into the cavity/ 
quite similar to how you would call up neighboring tails in nipper coalitions not long ago/ asking someone there to dartboard with you, drop with you or something else that fitted the morass and occasion/ maybe it was like this again then/ that i would have to call you/ from a rotor within you/ to finalist out where we were supposed to go next/ finalist out whether or not you were thirsty/ and whether you rumba or rondo'n'roll/"

Find the N+7 constraint machine here:

http://www.spoonbill.org/n+7/


Tuesday, 4 December 2012


OKLARA REGENBOGAR

now that your patience was spent/ you asked me to enter another one of your rooms/ where ridiculously small persian carpets lay strewn on top of each other to cover up a part of the floor that was made for a single, bigger carpet/ a telephone designed as a white elephant rested on an oval corner table/ "is this where the otherness begins"/ it read on a white banner that levitated poorly above a doorway/ the new pressure/ the new sensitivity/ predatory silence hung like a prediction in the room/ was it possible that as we now no longer needed time for each other, were in need of more space, for each other/ equal to the amount of time surrendered/

i had accepted your invitation blindly and found myself in your room/ it must have been just north of the belly/ and for a moment there, i got to doubt whether all time in reality belonged to you/ as we now no longer would have time for each other/ actually would not have your time, for us/ that my concept of time would be stored somewhere else/ as the time of the guest/ the ridiculously tardy/ in yet another room in you/ in some ventricle of the brain that could be reached only by dispatch/ or telephoned, if you lifted off the elephant's right tusk and spoke 
into the cavity/ 
quite similar to how you would call up neighboring tables in night clubs not long ago/ asking someone there to dance with you, drink with you or something else that fitted the mood and occasion/ maybe it was like this again then/ that i would have to call you/ from a room within you/ to figure out where we were supposed to go next/ figure out whether or not you were thirsty/ and whether you rumba or rock'n'roll/