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Showing posts from October, 2007

rough fragments for Memory Swerve (pt 2)

"pain and patience in the annealed life/ preceding harvest" (Theodore Enslin)

by what
cracked chimney

does the would-be mercy
escape in the Polish nightscape?

pouring or poured
endlessly away,
it was as yet caught
between
the lit and unlit,

ball of sandpaper, hewn
at the edge of it

throated soul wanting verge

as yet

to go elsewhere
or no-
where

rough fragments for Memory Swerve

". . . thought is a violent, cataclysmic operation, of which sweat is the most benign symptom" (Roland Barthes)

shaven priest are supposed
to be more temporal like clouds- as the say-- or said
feed
on mountains,

god-turned
endless
hover who dwells-- or dwelled
elsewhere

mountain fish-- fresh--

strangers in the headlights, eyes
low'ed better as yet
not to be seen

more from new manuscript

from Memory Swerve




grave
wrangled
in the night’s
rites

embalmed
head
dreamt
immunity

held-on
catch
whatever
was caught

had been singing
not enough
on punative
wings

local football team
scribbled on Polish
rocks
thin lines
nodding
out
returned
lagg’d
humm’d
and
drawn
made it a road
made it
a windflag
had it nowhere
bound
loose

unanswered shout
of ships

blue
back - - blue
loose

occupied in the descent

orbiting it
seem’d
what was read
at sky’s end


had been arrived
at again

sworn letter-
less water
mimed
into memories

loose
descent
inwardness
meant
sisphoned
into
awareness
where
mouths
dwell under
rocks

so as yet—convergence—insisted
on the move
extent
of duress
meant
inwardness
meant hanging
around
in lost &
found

a ghost
in every sound
regretting it seem’d
a run-
away

apocryphal feet
across
the fiery
page

incineration
of hope
and lightnotes
burst
soundings
in the
memoryskull

sickness slides through
language

how far
even
so
in the nous
of unknowing

regretting it seem’d
a runaway
sickness

water transpired
in every

from memory swerve

a new project with gnostic undertones. And sound is a priority again.

Right now it's called Memory Swerve.

Here's a small sample:



The question is: is there life
before death
always
a tightrope
between
innocence &
rapture

knowing through
negation it was
or could be
seen
with
the departing
train
or suspended
with the blow-away
whistle

nighttracks washed
in breathmic
yonder

tumbled out
tumbling
as from
lightnotes
hostage
strings
strung
us
along

there is, was, and iswas a scout for the abstract
in the effects of grief memory was worth
doing over to arrive again
in the fleet kingdom
with an aroused eye

in-scattered
living
in-scribed
in the nameless
book of
entwinement

seem’d reason
parted
not so much everywhere
having
arrived
at ruins
rather plucked
spoken out
of
envisaged
in the gnostic
projector
projecting
remakes
on a white screen
crazed
into
scattered
kingdoms

grief
grinds
memories
ANI MALE
UP-
RISINGS


In the sun the body bakes
in ext…

nothing but work

in the classroom teaching ESL 34 hours a week. Which means a lot more hours with grading and prep etc. Also 7 days a week. Can't think or do anything else for a while.

but I should find a groove soon

in Katowice

I am in my new flat in Katowice. It is nice and clean. I also got internet yesterday. I am working for a friendly and professional school. Fingers crossed for a good ride this year.