Thursday, November 29, 2007

You Can’t Eat What’s Not on Your Back

Put your farmer tan back in
my body she said she thought
I'd done a good job for the man
we all think we've done a good job
we’ve all injured birds with massive cars
I know you think people are just trying to chirp
tender songs on drugs but you got me at “hello”
you might even have suggested that everything
is distorted in Los Angeles and I understand
that part of your mind very well
they are attacking us because
a full-time wolf is the first
time I've ever used that animal
to open my blouse using that guzzled syrup routine
and I’m not buying it, okay?
You can’t eat what’s not on your back--
not in the palsied meadow where my tired
animals are eating air from trucks.
No amount of pleading
or inane classicism is ever going
to bring you back to Los Angeles
so take the milk from your body
and use it to feed the animals
one at a time.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Happy Thanksgiving

Monday, November 19, 2007

The Raw New

Lately I've been listening to Bach again--
it calms me down and makes me steady
for the onslaught of day and light.
Then -- a little later -- I get metal
and drop a dime on a chrome cap
with lightning bolts of electric shit,
but that's just for kicks. I kick around
solid cubes of air & then I move along,
I suppose, but not before the blankness sets in.
One day the field gets scorched while
some kids play in a green lawn two
houses down, then it's speakers in
the window, loud love and I'll
just be all greasy and older zipping
into the raw new.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Brooklyn Bridge Walk 11.17.07. pt. 2

Saturday, November 17, 2007

The Brooklyn Bridge Walk 11.17.07. pt. 1

The Song in My Head

Samuel Beckett

"Ah yes, so little to say, so little to do, and the fear so great, certain days, of finding oneself...left, with hours still to run, before the bell for sleep, and nothing more to say, nothing more to do, that the days go by, certain days go by, quite by, the bell goes, and little or nothing said, little or nothing done. That is the danger. To be guarded against" -Samuel Beckett, from "Happy Days"

Thursday, November 15, 2007

You can't eat what's not on your back

Put your farmer armor back on
she said that she thought
he'd done a good job
we all think we've done a good job
injured bird massive cells
the people here are trying to chirp
about gender songs have suggested
as a well as distorted anything at all
here in Los Angeles I understand
very well they are attacking me
because 50 percent wolf is the first
time I've used that line she is in fact
using that guzzled syrup routine
the palsied meadow of my tired
machines are whomped, done, stomped.

Glenn Gould - Bach - Art Of Fugue - Contrapunctus14 - Last Fugue

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

"I Couldn't Sleep, So I Wrote"

You've Got to Start Thinking About Your Future

Gas station or getting that
kind of job with people you talk to
one to that gas station was soothing
to you was blooming red he wears
khaki he's young so his principles
he won't watch television alone
he's propped up in the rooms
on shitty husk pillows
reads the room catalogues
the ones with rooms in them
the furnishings he imagines
the rooms or what he'd do in
them sitting beside someone
talking about current events
a movie maybe or a book
and then he starts spitting up
and needing to be a baby
with a cup and sweet bread
so the soothing oil and the blanket
with that he forgot about the war
while being a baby with needs
and that baby needs a lot of stuff.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Panic War

A pelvic bone
is in everything
you're looking for
neither a husband
or she could be sleeping
with sedatives
I've seen panic war
thin knives and swords
around their blouses
you could see all the
evil creatures
did you think murder
behind the shades
with your pants
pulled over your head
did you stop a moment
to consider that the carousel
stuffed full of slides might be
melting in the basement
under the weight of this hate
you harbored for life in a city
in the eyes of this blank
and bullshit life?

Earth to You

If wet chestnuts
hiss over the bunting
kink up so the
milk will bundle
and gurgle I'm
a space dog in a
mint green spaceship
I don't blame the shoes
I'm a total load
of the syrup
& it's really got
to get better
than this raglan
sleeved fink.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Monday Top 5

1) The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon.
2) Fiona Shaw in Beckett's "Happy Days" at BAM in January.
3) Purple Mountain's Majesty: Oil on Your Neck.
4) Rene Girard: Violence & The Sacred.
5) Edmond Jabes: The Book of Questions, Volumes 2 & 3.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Frank O'Hara reading "Having a Coke with You" (Click Here)

Sunday, November 04, 2007

From Clunkytown (click here)

Friday, November 02, 2007


Laura Carter, the singer in this clip, passed away in December of 2003. She was amazing. Here she is singing with her band the B-B-Q-Killers from the 1988 Athens Ga. documentary "Athens Inside/Out."


Pylon's great album "Gyrate" has just been reissued and it's available on i-tunes. You might not have any idea how great they were--find out now.