from primitive pianos (Elblag, Poland)

Whatever Buzzes the Brain
Sopot, Poland (August 17th 2009)
for Magda Bethge

this is the fish
this is the beer
this is the wooden table
these are the rollerblades
I snapped you
one-legged near
the lopsided house
this is the beach
feet dig deep
into sand
we used to meet
in a communist hotel
we bowled
we spirited
my hand is on your shoulder
my hand is in the frame
the wine on your birthday
the snow out the window
bus stops
and a warm fuzz
in the tummy
don't think of age
the temporary tick tock
the blood or whatever
buzzes the brain
or heart
or hormones
I misread my trains
soon the light will go
where are you oh
travel mates

from primitive pianos (Gdansk, Poland)

Danzig-Gdansk

good morning gates
wet wet stones
mouldy old ghost
a toy cow
you can ride
the weight of
a post office
after the show
play kiss me
wandering through gates
and side streets
long way to city
limits
sluggin a sack
covered in doghair
we reach
the house of 100 beers

from primitive pianos (Elblag, Poland)

September 2009. Elblag, Poland.

Cardinal Sundowns

thank you for coming
I wanted to say something
about the shadows
of St. Nicholas
that Roger spotted
while swallowing beats
from the beat machine
late in the evening
all the older women
in the grocery store
staring at phone credit
I have no idea why
I am happening
at the dinner party
I ate Polish Indian curry
my knees were reacquainted
with my palms
new waves came
with vulcan bird nuts
at the bread festival
I took a video
I found myself looking
for shiny skin
I am noxious
I am Specjal
let's play tosser
with the oops in yon skirt

from the notebook (Italian section of Primitive Pianos)

15-11-2010

Trieste Train Station

signs:

MAXIMILLIAN RESIDENCE
JOLLY CAVOUR
ROMA
ALLA POSTA

Elisabetta statue
supplicants and muses
she has a perfect
rump
plus two plucked breasts
bearded man beside her
in old age
but still sporting
a six pac
this is halfway
to December
and the light
fuck it
who cares about the light

-----------------------------------------------

these are collapsible sticks
booooooooooooooooooooooooo
-----------------------------------------------

where in the world
to watch
it go
it's not so bad
to feel my vision
slippin
out of focus
it's hard enough to live
slinging rocks
at the riptides
i offer you survival
shut up
if you're not nervous anymore
gonna take it down
to the wire
it ain't hard to hold
it's not so bad
-----------------------------------------------

flash memory:

we were love
boning
in yr parked car
near a delicatessen
not far
from the Irish pub
without an inside
toilet

-------------------------------------------------
i've lost my zapikanka




24-11-10

Trieste, Doggie Park

I'm yr father's mother
lick my nipples
I'm growing
up strangly
plus scroungely
we're all here
giant little monsters
to feed
if i am lost it's only
for a little while
all past efforts
buried
in our stomachs
sneezing out the seasonings
noli me tangelo
POMP ROAST
earnest driven
been down here
day after day
this template
is not my heart
piggy toenail
has split again
change my changling
darling
i'm a quick wet
with street-wide eyes
calling for you
everywhere
I'm not a fat house
cat
i'm not a poisoned
rat
butterchrist mouth
all told
i have no after-
taste
in head shape voiceskin
this is my kin
in their very own
private BORA
give me a beat
make mock
of neither beast
nor foul
praise the winter
plum
no trinkets
no poems
mistakes tread their own
grace
in this valley of fish
eyes
feast on nooks
my veined one

from Kopenhaga by Grzegorz Wróblewski

Kopenhaga

from Irish Ninja

as a rule my other
half-life
ex everything
in the era of hairspray
the situation
lies
on both sides
ashing
into paper cups
contemplating
the windows
America
my Dairy Queen

the times they are achangin

WHAT IS TO BE DONE?

from the notebook (11th nov 2010)

how good it feels
to stuff
the cabbage
I've tattooed
a squint
of humour
below yr nipple

watch this space
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
my fingers
touch celestial
juice
-----------------------------------------------------------
Concrete Pier (Trieste, Italy)

across from the Piazza Unita
sitting
on a metal mushroom
sculpture
teenagers in shaggy
clothing
sit on a concrete
pier
looking out over
light and ripples
bora gone quiet
a circle of blue lights from steady traffic
i write with neon
green pen
ipod shuffle spinning in my ear
this is dog heaven
my mouth is dry
I've no Italian
no major meltdowns
have metamorphosis
habit bad
11/11/2010
I've forgotten the date
for thanks-
giving
mornings serve nerves
this is the history
of punking poems into existence
ready to blow
you
into the empty spill
if you go ahead
and ask

------------------------------------------------------
cut moon, silvered
sick uhl
moon
you're all
I've got
--------------------------------------------------------------
Dog Park (Trieste, Italy)

lattice work all
around
I keep a lighter
in my pocket
my bowels full
on coffee and water
ipod still spinning
I'm ignoring yr doggy heaven
------------------------------------------------------------------
I've skipped a page
the leaves are mulching
I can see my breath
heaven to Betsy
the voices you know
wouldn't say yes
wouldn't say no
whatcha wanna do with
this wheel of history
I'm a night sniffer
a light sleeper
the voices
you know
----------------------------------------------------------------------
commune di Trieste
come on
Trieste
I'm still shooting
my wads
all my kind
they come
and go
come and go
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

solidarity

workers and students unite!

Prague Microfest 2010

great time in Prague. What a city!!! Picked up some fab books and met some super cool folks. Louis Armand and David Vichnar, Holly Tavel, Jason Mashak, Richard Tippen, Ondrej Pilny, Joshua Mensch and others . . . .

good readings . . . some interesting film screenings . . . great walks around the city with Richard Tippen . . . he does some interesting work with found signs and removing one letter . . .among other things . . . talking of love . . . love lost . . . young love . . . and others . . .

the first issue of Vlak magazine is stellar!!!! Some good cross cultural and cross genre work . . . def work checkin out . . . Louis Armand is a man of many hands . . .

good community of writers, poets, and artists at the festival . . . yeah . . . super psyched to get down to reading new books and writing.

reading now:

Diane Wakoski's The Butcher's Apron

Kye by Lukas Tomin (this Czech novel is seriously seriously joyfully sadly amazing)

Memory Glyphs (3 prose poets from Romania: Radu Andriescu, lustin Panta, Cristian Popescu)

also still working on Irish Ninja (lots of revisions coming . . . some sentimental . . off tones . . . gonna chop . . . add . . . need more play . . .)

and also Primitive Pianos (Turkish section in mass reshifting resifting cutting and mucking about . . .)

so yeah again . . . community packs a good punch . . . needed the Prague Microfest . . . energy surges coming . . .

festival avant garde 2010

video clip