For the Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West
January 14, 2011 2:02 am The kid lay the pages down, his head ached from what he had read. Stories of old, faraway and foreign, of lands familiar yet as alien as those of the moon. Stories of dust and thirst, of a sun unyielding, of men both savage and calculating. The book was almost...
Barnaby’s Bliss
My failed attempts, works planned and achieved – span media and motive. As an artist, a reflector of inner states and outer debates, my intentions whether selfish or otherwise have lead me onto endeavors which serve more than blazing nerves or a kaleidoscope of misfired neurons and misshapen dreams. To bring toil to sublime form,...
Carkiss
oasis of dead remains of dancing nostrils and intercepting ears grill bashed, spine smashed, soft sacs opened innards snake out kaleidoscope of oil in blood, bits of plastic and splintered bone tender meats exhaust heats, eye yokes ooze, marrow simmers a concrete stew, bile and antifreeze – a tail puff – a soft breeze a...
Mrs. Madame
Mrs. Madame’s damn nose longer then a garden hose always the knowledge of where I’m at I know the bitch ate my cat (sometime in Newcastle, England 1994-95)
Page
page so indifferent hunting me how great it challenges to be so begins with an eager sigh a search in novelty for the eye inside genesis neurons rumble the endeavour ruff and humble the spirit sweats the mind squints hoping mistakes bring me hints a fluxing flux well in advance probing pixels left to chance...
No. 37 – from the Collections of Surrealistica Poetica – 05.30.01
Enchanted, calibrated, seized – a fractured intention Programmed or deliberated, a chemical infuriated Riding hell blown stilts, heavy nails bring them down Rabbit, warm in yesterdays sun now in the fields of woe On that eternal run (a catchless chase) Look! Shadows converge, black blankets rolling dunes A moonless night, not a trace or whisper...
Holidais in Polndt
/// /////// //// ///////// // /////the neofuturists from Dada’s past…. reanimated in optic light////// ///// // //////////// ////// / ///////// “square gum sugar plum kicked’m in the puss….” – old mississipian kids rhyme circa 1923 (incorrespondence):(initiations): are we not cosmonauts of the surrealist universe painting not in oxides and pigments but in words and breath…?...
Quintok Chronicles
01 of ___ >>>digital excrement: “a happy dispostion and a happier mishappen african skull” yearning to expound on the applied arts of intellectual gymnastics?…. of pedestrian pontification cloaked in substantia? ….as i grow old in the twilight of my naive youth i grow smitten with the written word…of manufactured words and meanings…. of fantasmigorical contexts...
Novo “Chessna”
a.2 cryaline panther using up matter sweeping along on a rungless ladder disenbarge from toothage lake did you like the proton cake? switching fields from silver to black wilbur fought front ripped the quack! dolphin eyes colour your design then we all laughed cryaline q.48 wave pounds drum beats lobes freeze blood boils sweat with...