A Spent Thing is, um, Gutting the Small Land. The Spent Thing of Being Together Everybody Makes Is a Small, Old Land, Having to Be Zealous. In the Wood it Goes to Spend All Together, Cleric and Big Boss, His and Hers, Radical Root Vegetables to Politeness Apropos.


Where is the Celebration of Opposing, not to Live Again But to Give Being Together, Yelling Words? Where is the Celebration of Opposing, a Fortress of, um, Scribbles, a Detective of Walled Disagreement? Why is the Lording Over of Forward Thinking Back Together, and not Pieces of Slight Revulsion?

No Two Ways to Get out of this Thatched Roof Shed.




from Manifest Manifest, a poem and/or asemic translation of the Communist Manifesto (excerpt) 

in Lemon Hound 3.0.4, June 2018




***


We lean out in favour of worn order, horseflies and mosquitoes. Semblance makes syntax with the others, a sham of consent. Small language is noisy and translucent. 


Along old barriers, it is one or many. Desire to flatten displaces in a swarm of its own kind. We contain what isn’t, avoiding registers and the natural course. Our dirt is to follow and rub between. 


Maybe this mouth contains a machine of closing. Our one spasm suffices to pile, switching places, especially below. Of this same apparition, we are even fewer among.


Orbits reconsider, swallow a storehouse of ragged things. This air isn’t with flesh, exiled in every way. Scattering over and through, our position is null and lacking separation. 



from USES OF MOUTH (NEW AND OLD) in Otoliths 49, May, 2018 




* * *


(...)

What Are “Sighting”, “Speaking” and “Slumping” if Nothing At All? 

This Is Faultiness of Human Selves, a Nothing Feast For Something Given, Sounding Out New Shades of Speech and New Speaking of Jest.

This Is Saying You Know, Staying in to Finalize Another Spoken Guess.

Should an Even Farther Image Be Known To Wander and Breathe? Should It Give Itself Unto Counting?

The World Itself Is Mumbling Jest, Running Ashore To Make Speaking Speak. As One Matter of Vegetables, This Is Some Lifeform.

(...)

excerpt from Bad Anatomy #23, in ZenoMagazine, March 2018

* * *
WHEN FLEEING WAS IT in The Blasted Tree, March 2018

* * *
SIX DURUSTI TRANSLATIONS (with Mimi Lebuffe)
Published in Vallum 14.2, Fall 2017


1.

Up to here, every time is a variant. We pass ourselves, for the ending dirt operates on denial. Of not knowing, unaware and bereaved tumuli agree on a defined point.

From here all iterations are the same iteration, passing for finite mud and operating on exclusion. Knowingly or unknowingly, small mounds meet at this sad point.


2.

Shapes are surviving but encounter not once the tranquility of agitation. At selfsame horizons, cushions wake and hollow out. Our needful burrow of confinement is no stumbling for this mammal. A clear affirmation of fog.

Conditions are present but never met, quiet and disquiet equidistant. Pillows awaken and shovels dig small but necessary tunnels: fear of confinement is no obstacle. For mammals and what is, a message is mixed or unmixed.


3.

Peppery sauce constrains slurring itself. This is language. Indistinct twitching or clean hands. Hoped-for efforts glower, partially full. Obviating, a draw traces elsewhere.

Rust prevents rust, and mumbling is language too. Faint spasms and hand-washing make for an honest effort, in part or in whole. Evidential markers mark away.


4.

The subject is what is, a bad idea. Weight is gloomy and like vocabulary. A box of broad ones and the twigs take form. He’ll lose to take it back. Featured parts disband and find unpublished wholes among. Marching beside and toward another horizon.

Subject to what is, a bad idea and weight are morose and equal: a dictionary, can of beans or large bundle of twigs. We take form, lose it, and take it up again. Constituent parts scatter to find new wholes. We walk among them, or by them, and walk away.


5.

More the sweater ages, the falls are a recent version. In this way, a heavy light. We remember it sadly with a given snare. The substance is what misses us to become dirty. Dilation that doesn’t, really. Our weight is of others.


The older the pulling, the newer the fall. With a heavy or light thud, we remember this: a sad and substantial trap, one of many. Missing elements contaminate a growth that doesn’t grow. It is surely someone else’s burden.



6.

Using the value of smells is familiar. Mouthing hurts, obscures the refraction of confirmed sauces. There is little assemblage. Tracing isn’t not in the dark without our hesitation. A place where some eyes are porous.

Use-value wafts and familiar mispronunciation happily obfuscates. Our prism is smeared with old mayonnaise, socks are unpairable and outlines untraced. In the dark, reluctance is out of place: our eyes remain open.





– – – 

Hidden allergens
or
the inability to unthink unintentionally thought-of ideas
or
the age of a given stain
or
the etymology of cultch
or
envelopes designed to not stay properly shut
or
the appropriate use of ain’t
or
all-out global war
or
not knowing which is preferable
a rock, or the idea of a rock?





– – –

BINOCULARS IN A WINDOWLESS ROOM



binoculars in a windowless room binoculars and windowless room binoculars in a windowless room binoculars in the windowless room binoculars in the windows room binoculars in windowless room binoculars in a windowless room binoculars in the windowless room binoculars in the windows room knockers and windowless room binoculars in windowless room binoculars in the windowless room and oxygen the windows room first and windows binoculars windowless room binoculars in the windowless room and oxygen the windows room first and windows binoculars windowless room binoculars in the windowless room and oxygen the windows room first and windows binoculars windowless room binoculars in the windowless room and oxygen the windows room first window binoculars windows from binoculars in the windowless room and oxygen in the windows room first window binoculars when does would not is the windowless room and oxygen the windows room first window binoculars when does would not is the windowless room an oxygen the windows room first window binoculars when does would not is the windowless room and oxygen the windows first window binoculars what does would not as the windows human oxygen the first first window binoculars what does would not as the windows human oxygen is the first window binoculars what does would not as the windows human oxygen is the first window binoculars what does would not is the windows human oxygen is the first wanted binoculars not does the windows human options the first one of her doctors not does the windows human options the first one of her doctors cat is the worst does human options the first one ever doctors had the worst guys human options for the first whenever doctors had the worst guys human options for the first whenever doctors have the worst guys human option for the first whenever doctors have the worst guys in the option for the first whenever doctors hello worst guys in the option for the first whenever doctors hello is cause me option for the first winter doctors Heloise Cosmi option for the first hundred doctors Louise cost me option for the first hundred doctors please cost me option for the first hundred doctors please call me option for the first hundred doctors please call me on for the first hundred doctors please call me on for the first hundred doctors please call me on for the first hundred doctors was going out for the furniture doctors just going out for the furniture doctors scott furniture doctors Scott furniture doctors Scott furniture doctors scott furniture doctors furniture shop furniture shop furniture shop furniture shop print shop picture picture picture picture picture picture picture picture turn turn turn turn turn current current current current current current current Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt hurt hurt hurt hurt her her hurt her her hurt




– – –