Mining for Cold
Early rounds with runaways — my naked eye pie — never bore crown, always the illegitimate sister. Forgot about that. It was about escaping the box.
Rocks in box — Used to dream about children in boxes being forced into fucking for dads obscene treasure. Around about age 7 or 8.
Mmmmm air edge. This lovingly worried brush. Lurking in sight of darkness, listening. Wandering the slopes of prodigy.
Is it safe?
No, of course not. Is it harmless. No probably not. What god depends on. Hunger beauty and death. Elegance? Roofs spoons strangers.
A place where there is no place. For?
Curly Hair, Jokes, the Insecure Fetch. Arrogance. Sleep. Half dreams.
Blank blank blank. Starts with a blank.
Sweetness is emptiness? The result is disappearance. Blue wait nights.
Curious that usage. Mmmm air edge. How rent boy thing and debtor scatter and payment. Lose track. Blows apart the kidneys. Everywhere.
Sunday in french stall selling table cloth and charms. A quantity for cakes. Opens floor with a death trap undress the egg the worry braid yellow and pious with fear. Flo blows it out the rear.
Rhymes takes over and pushes back.
Can’t see outside where am not. So it tumbles into the onion and waits. I dont know.
Put these floors in between. Hey you eighth house it.
Afternoon undress cue da death trap egg. Told him other rows worry about this braid. One will do dame gru great i only.
Nodded at the request.
It was a kindness looking over heart in a dear grave. And that carries. Can see beyond the robbery.
As the bad evening, pious fear of the evening. Something about an appointment. Get dense with flo blo.
Dont see colleagues as landlords. Dont even think about acquiring land. Have no land. Or marriage. Never think about any of that with “the girls.” Odd.
Remember as teenager girls started going on about it. I looked at them blank. And examined colors in sky for escape. Kate and fate says dada stuff that waivers from its terror. Fathers who are terrified of their daughters.
So as a daughter. Yellow pad screamed thunder. But bow de lair is shocked by it.
Talk is always about murder and ways to kill parasite off.
Not the murderer says Agnes. The burglar. There is no murderer. Except everywhere.
Pour core into ragey balm balm find out what praying preying are saying? They release the tomb from its holy gloom as smelly air of for in bloom. There is a they. Others do exist. Despite year of aquarium.
Earliest fascinations still bite me. Prisoner stuff. Why egg begs. For straight line magic. Steals it if can. Inter act sounds death hunter listened market place tidy good wind the picture book wraps around neck snakes and stumbles. The Moody. Pollutey flutey.
Rheum cavorts with disappearance? this isnt invisible. Disappearance before was mining went cold. Its landlord wouldnt move too. So went on hold. And blew gaskets of milk and honey. This became its forlorn rim pressionistic. Caught by the “fig.”
Pick flick wick tick the rhyme is cow and plow for me now. I like that. Thank you for the sweep. And for badges. Ewe thin asia. Thats darling. I mean Genets darling. Mixes genders. Strange ruthlessness rains cutters the fasces and I adore it without losing candor? Simple crimes are plenary feast of oblivion. Set up again and then the madness announces itself. Again oh how I hate that.
But its the cutter. Cutter is one of the greek goddesess that infested with Alice and chalice and get out of the palace. Hmm. Later started decorating it. Fly.
Its all walk there. And swims out here. I wanted him out more than me in. But when craziness hit immediately started writing BIG B. Knew I was whipped and needed a “blessing.” He tried and the tin took over me again. Tin stole every acquaintance. In writing. Like a fish hook. Brought it gin a gain.
But a belief in otherness always skips back in. With the outer gallery. Where I am no place for.
And Joyce starts giggling. Innie spin tin fin STOP.
Studied multiples of relations. Sparrows, moodies clock days. Barbarics spies the greek. God depended on me to be strong.
But pie kept on exploding with ding dongs my head was terror of thirst. I couldnt stop the bursts of joy/antijoy. It was so fucking frightening. And they took over one after another the whole thing split into this that then the tho thuds of dynamite hitting Sartres wall of bricks.
And yet wildly distracting ghoulish even amusing. I saw went looking for ghosts of serial mystery yes masturbation is a swamp. Crackled with disturbance and frames that missed it, just got lost in swamp of terror. Whose beauty on some corrupt curious level began to scavenger for love.
This is scavanger. The raven flies here.
The body screams to be relieved of its thirds. Pheonix and raven chance dance the picture enters the flame. Bit brings ease to. Being used to having the flu.
The last to come out of the rain
Unjustice. No naughty rama. Its “outside” scope. Part of falling in love with. Is that ventures outside my scope. In a way that “knocks me up” and terrorizes me. Thats love.
What is the tidy market? Is this writing despite all the marmalade tidy. Or is tidy about peaches? and violet. and buddah foodies.
Death traps are also referred to as being childish afternoon plot “in between.”
High up the gang plank with Nash’s “hall pass.” Looping the gymnasium. Strange penchant for disaster. Weighs the art of grief.
Its a chimney sweep, part of the incendiary. Penchant for snorkling with a box of “raison d’etre” in coal of smoke. Meet me below the clock.
Eternal call for all co hall.
Valley limits plead cough cook louder. Its a pulley. Rains whistles growls, even when asleep. Asleep is daring curious gym where water rains in. Property is not friendship. Friendship here is ignorant. There is ignorance not friendship.
Courage lapses fractures suddenly, cuts in with madness, sheers one of the presenters. Its systemic, a brutal “pop out.” Call it what you will its brutality is indefensible.
Girls say it is about falling in love.
Try endlessly to improve. And have months where do.
But no less strike powder flowing into slides. Colors take on meaning. Of life and death? No? — that of individual effort. Where signs share the intercession of meaning. Colors become a reference to their property. A way to divine define consign align as inheritance properties — figures of speech.
Suffering is always unexpected. But Instrumental. Often called fanatical. And revolutionary. Occurs as maneuvers, beaten, feared, unfolding, ignorant, herd like. A breadth of death air, skillful are often reckless? At times.
When furthers the forbidden. Winds through as if embracing torture. Is in some ways what gives it its strength. Symbols jet, prance with fire, dazzling — turns consent into a parade of flashy unexpected beggars, a massacre of party favors to bereave in.
Its immorality piques theater?
Guns bonnet, leather rushes in, marshals sound, something grows impatient, miserable.
Are thoughts alone immoral? Is sharing thoughts — immoral? Are glowing envelopes immoral? Sound of snow? Everything nothing bright and miserable.
Negation melts the hairless, bridges heartbroken, absorbs shock.
And hideousness turns theatre into rocks. Triggers dizziness that this bad babble in nightmare consumes in its abundance. Executors deliver victory. Unspeakable. Charge for mystical mud pie? Miners’ parrots ought be burned, alive?
Eye feed acres, the fatal mix up, by mountains where engineers more favorable make proximity for gas.
Colonies of modesty, can modesty be bigoted? Act now visit the necessary. Love that.
Nothing is something if it serves an interest. Superstition is talked about a lot. That taboo tattoo process of animal love smitten bitten or kitten, beguiles imagination, wispy creature like depths, three inches free.
Expands as sifts. Love that too.
Tentative — always a mistake. Hi knows. Deer and river and mines and hen juice, expensive debris. Something seemly deliriously unfavorable pending endlessly renews itself underneath. Has to do with reaching, taking time and effort to reach.
Troubles in trees makes anti freeze.
What settles to bottom? When ground has fallen. Weight of rocks.
End fend bend spend rend send. And pool in the river of the liver makes for new parts. A quarter thick known as Devils Breadth. Where hits every meter of measure. Steam pump, equilibrium. Elephant graveyard. Handles beautiful. Never rolls over.
Playing dead. Oh, on the railways. Juice and tobacco. Where’s the productive combination. Gloomy flights, slight near indiscernible movements. Can add up. To scaffolding.
Mining continues to prosper
Kilos and purchase. Far away quakes.
Every recognizable point of fatality. Strikes a lucky vein.
Fertile veins. Harvested monkeys. Fury Gold Mine, the Dublin Raven. Every basin pays.
A curl in any direction mixes fuses snaps back. George town declares: Can’t kill a road map.
Mountain switches have come into view. Ad income is onerous. But comes out thick. A rich poison, a delicious way even to watch it melt into a “sentence.” Dividends are greedy.
Distrust on tinnish expedient is navigable — ah but how the holy con disintegrates. At sound of her voice. Buildings, telephones, temperate environments, turn against the middle. Click click. Click.
Like stepping into an occupied zone. Failure is skeletons warehouses out on loan.
In practice — most favorable search afterwards.
Allowances for the “melt with you” foundation claim on tigers. Prosperity is laterite, finances magic miles economically. And poignancy qualifies, makes great hair spray.
Own your own bird business
Built to hold. All in. Fruitful. Removal of modesty. Generates reimbursement.
Overcoming pings of modesty and finding immunity are interrelated.
The immunity thing here is big big big new shiny vein —
I love when yall overwhelm me. I know its not pretty. And seems that it arrives from a sudden urgency to leave.
Well thats been true since sayonara!
When stock gets mixed it enriches the feces to species. And barriers are what the onion is all about. For me you are your barriers. Know it allows dark and beautiful product to be poured out. Diligence presses flowers into llamas. Everything is on the off.
Sea and pine, yall yields are divine.
Thick growth, dirt that crumbles with smell of Bordeaux. And run back a lot. Repetition– arises on back of the golden mean.
Parasites left me unrecognizable.
Until mining turned up as a witness. And dug through lots in eye. And beat off every curse across the midline. Raised chickens. Transported fuel. Persian firewood.
Made peace with fishermen?Continue reading
Middling with Meta Fiction
Presence & madness, desire & distance, alls & nothings.
Splendor. Cutters farm. In vested with a wire.
The slender and the burn.
Digging after dog of night.
Barriers carriers, for chins and fins. The ticklish and the fragile. Flowers belly up and blue.
Holy scares, holy scars, holy reckoning with giddy fumes.
The body of the first — and fall, and holy go go go —
Sweet infernal yoyo. Smor-guess-board of destiny of death — tasting splits the tongue.Continue reading
Essays as fiction.
Poetic holy oil and the hideous insidious perfidious sublime.
Jill the Puddle Jumper — races after epiphanies — a defender of splendor, with a spoon for the moon. Shadows fetch through darkness after strains of ugliness, wistful and yearning, incessantly for incarnate species of beauty. Any which way.
Curiosity trembled with a tyranny of honor and lust. Every scheme incurred some element that defied reason.
Powerful bursts of the holy moly resistant. Waves of defiant wonder battling with a fire of emptiness. This emptiness is space to jump through. It is the meaning and affectation of life.
Soul becomes body cut loose, running with the wind, meaning bursting through confines of forced conformity — and not just for glory numbers, but slippery reckonings with brute gruesome hopelessness, burst like a coffin that only opens at night.
And its day that slips under the mat choking with terror.
Jill has a nose that swoons against the distance — and given any sudden room to roundelay in, shifts into rapidly sifting views, perceptions find clearance to reverberate and imbue, sudden exponentials turn electromagnetic with buzzing cruces — these spiritual quintessentials are enshrined in beauty of all kinds.
Including the femme fatal. Escaping banality and horror of everyday strife into elements of sacrifice charged with freedom, as a rapturous negative beauty.
Or to philander deferentially with morbid exuberance — searching the highest rafters for edges of destruction. To get the heart climbing.Continue reading
a battering ram
and a canalizing
as heat moulders perch
like a bird
wild in worship.
The virgins of hell ring
my wasted double
rile for a pile
cheap breathless heap
of morbid flora
lets loose that pin
a blanket white out
alive as a bee hiveContinue reading
Letters to Epididymus
Negative of the Contrary
Scoops of Negative Plunder
Quivering, the vulnerable into syllabalizing — a shining vulture — feathers red purple yellow blue, high on holy prey? Wonder if Joyce ever compared himself to a vulture? On morning cliff where sits a red rock and the wind blows heavily.
We want to make pretty? Have chars come to life.
Instead, starts up on a theory of love — that is the beauty of evil. Evil is a fat word. Borderless, boundaryless, and even intermediary. Sacred refuge for the addititious — perverse, mischievous, incendiary.
Looking into time periods again, drat Spengler, those of early Christianity as to say angelic sorteriology and hamartiology, otherwise known as discovery of salvation and sin.
Or rather, what my flowers of luminous evil call: potency of love and evil. Where love is endless, elevates negative to positive. Ugly to Beauty. Timelessness to Infinity.
See pretty in others resolve. Where let love in.
But beauty is full of excuses, having escaped from prison of gently crushed banal conservative dismissal, and religious disdain. Behind which saw horror and decapitation. In dreams slaves raged and were raped — negative escape from emptiness of existence.
Love, as release from a Tyranny of Negation?
Wasn’t just clumsiness. But also being forced by emptiness around me into fighting stagnation.
Every heady book, devoured — was an opening into desecration of the stagnation, negative on a negative became a twist on what love iz, conspirational with the dead (more than not authors read, were dead). Reading books, a rage against machine, quietly in my bed.Continue reading
Working thru rot divide or unmodify — quiet here as mouse house with faust. Today — peace and gud tidings — mine only true one absolute weather support the work to find its own destiny in la langue — was strange to be fat way — body wanted diff life — sylvie s on dreaming into being — so many every boxtop —the imago far as can go bangs on about — low as can hoe — curiosity hingry and terror and timid — blotchy buggy soggy tiered — then reach out seemingly umbillically to other worders birders — and bounders to absorb mirror cul and meth thud and exchange rats and ratios and rations fah who boo knew ❤️❤️ — those who permet me become be livd on art part cart liberal — theres a one track hack evil button in la langue — find alone is “very” disarming — so guess seek the other to make wayway thru — not wanting to disrupt as bends my curve to breaking points which blow mouse house down -/ but black hole mmm engine too -/ new story finding chloe — let it sneek off into abso lutes ?? And others arrive to arg the vousdo back then dress in a n weave patterns glut slut means tooo seeking a grace — finding beauty and disaster and chuckles the misxmaker somebody — all but “resistance boxacrackers” want “share tea with v.”
es — Mmmmmy lyf small — but the work is getting “tight” yah — not doing any of this to burst at feet but jess stand up even say “ullo” — perhaps eod if can get loggers at factory to flesh it out fully — pea haps then wriding itself cud out go the shrimpy — all can do iszzz kip hoing -/ litter ex ists in black box of pie heavens no nothing assume everything — motto my grotto — SafeStreetsUSA
Na knot ankcore — but flow t twas 2 stay a flo te — naught pulled all wayway under again ana again — by waves of the sw eat hell o of m add ness — peace enuff in heart to “see” as a general way of perceiving purr suing ex changing litter n fill — tho still get caught in patterns of mis tea rious reasoning — on hole humor serves thru process of “finding” the serious — in laden and loaf, and peaches in trees —
Cud not have gotten pie to piece of peace on this without leaning towrs of pizza — mindbidysoul roll in the “hole” — looking fig out maintain mid grnd ( instead of yaknow burning man grnd zrro) endless love online works perfecta emmy pammy saus gd2go vousdo ruespew hippped make out a motionless meadured and absorbing caze para wick — now in the fic ?? Make up own version what fic is — ?? Hmm now is whispy moany inelegant — starting back on fiction — raise under surface to a dimension of what hmmm
Just did a fa$h sketch from agent s bern approved — tooooday way heavy dev/y hi end drawing class prep sat at 1 -/ also about finding line – focus pocus — that round 1000 pie hi happy fingers number sum in can with fannand pans collecting nuggera — the knocks the pix and the fizzies — to the slippery edges of wipperwood — i know its frig it fright height bite night reading a la rob the bin hood — tooooo also do fiction — something go back for ? // please says the beez blet bluzz earotic nuts and way the doodle noodle hoody poodle canoodle and nuts for guts — peepoe ddeafylocks pox and frisson and say hello for real as a V — edgr of gorest always waves and yells yo join her at the milk bar fizz wizz and hup comes the resistance — loopp fuck rrrrttt /- hu go not but -/ jack the riphuh pulling petals off poppy — oh hate city oh are wars between screamers // who cross dada pts with marcel -/ hate pushes back hate isa great pocus focus -/ yet/just anutter moon flitter with death — and make way gor day — which due too heavy river syvvy heloise in church — betty lost ton of cup cakes in garbage of golden ruins — is a bird born wasteland happiness deformrd — still living faithfully on hump over at circuitous dump -/ collecting presh tin — hmm – to take from proncess to dimples on the dump in 666.Continue reading
Latest on Top
119 What do you think about NA? As a recovering heroin addict, I am having difficulty getting into the Narcotics Anonymous scene. Do you have any more advice for a recovering heroin user?
119 I was thinking how much I wish I could write this story to you in Greek, my native language. In June one of my best friends suddenly died aged 46.
118 I’m thinking about having a child but everything looks so grim right now. It looks like your website is censoring people who ask about Israel.
116 Nina Simone once said: Freedom means having no fear. Sometimes on stage, she added, she would reach that kind of state. How do you free yourself from fear?
114 If, for decades, an anchor served a ship, which one day decided to cut its chains and sail away, can the drowning anchor grow wings? And if so, will the anchor always be burdened by the weight of having been used?
113 On The Lyre of Orpheus, the track Breathless moves me beyond words. In the intro every time I hear it I’m taken to a 14th or 16th century style ensemble. Is that the intention or can you explain where that comes from?
112 I spent the day watching Bad Seed TeeVee and the fan cover versions of your songs are amazing. How will you choose a winner?
111 I think you’ll be touched by this story, and the part you play in it. Please take a look.
109 What is mercy for you? What do you think of cancel culture?
107 Part 3. Why don’t you just buy your own fucking piano, you cheap c**t.
107 Part 2. No more mails to Fazioli please.
107 The piano you played for Idiot Prayer was magnificent. Was it a personal instrument?
106 I lost someone in the last year. I thought it was fine. It was a gentle passing. Now shapes and echoes resound. I feel a presence that comes and goes. How to understand the experience of loss. It’s not something I could negotiate with.
102 Do you ever look back at your anthology and wish you had been more overtly politically outspoken in your art? I love your music and its ability to relate common suffering, as you have discussed in the past.
100 If you would have a gold ring made that your son would inherit one day, what would you have engraved inside the ring? I am currently having a ring made that I want my son to have after my day.
099 I FEEL THAT OUR IDENTITY IS A PATCHWORK OF DESIRES, CHOICES, AFFILIATION, ECCENTRICITY. DO YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS ON HO LET ALL THE BITS FIT TOGETHER? What do you personally look for in an artist?Continue reading
Phrase Hunting, Notes & Sketches, Translating French
Ugly as an aesthetic category. Gradual abandonment Unity. Das negativschone, negatively beautiful —
Sublime and the ridiculous, how one rubs up against other —
Overwhelming ugly becomes monstrous, can no longer be sublated into sublime –
Definitions of monstrous – as a badge of ?Continue reading