Plight

I've finally transcibed the poems I've written in the past month or so, and so will be posting them up sporadically on my other blog. Here are two poems as preview.


Killing the Corpse

Friendship the sentry, to apologize is to be-
tray my absence as something insincere, in-
valid, the wrath of grapes swished before the pall
of our duty as comrades to serve one a-
nother without breach of the conditionless-
ness of our ideals—scleretic sovereign
of our simpering schedule—the dog
must be put down, Cerberus! Sirs,

do not write like this. It is foul play to re-
move the contact paper from the cupboard.
Condensation will still form, though more drawn,
stains like in a cold frame.
Or a blind before
the zoetrope day that with its own movement
animates the stenciles of each slide
into a whole—the mole into the
sycamore—and retells the whole darn
yarn from its truth: the end to start,
when day is not based on celestrial sun
that when the going is not gone exactly,
but done for the willed, or if blessed, chosen
moment one can originate the project

from behind closed doors, stape of papers,
atop an anvil of books from where your light,
the projector, can cullocate vast reflections
on the organs of attention. Imputate
and serve the scrimptious pomegranate
of our celebratory lives. Delivery just
friendship into the Avantgarde.

________________________

Forgive and Forget

So many names to drop in the field
made of person any time
that and joinings of his life could yield
a satisfactory end, to the beginning of rhyme.
The Musee de Beaux is a sound factory
in which a stroll is gone through without a chortle,
each work entrating each to think a story
a million millenials deep per storage shell
hung flush imperturbably in condignment.
Borges, Deleuze, Bloom, Bolano
men of letters still lipping assignment.
I’d play if it weren’t lain in a bowl,
the last aspirant lympathically doing show
business—last decade heroics on a roll
caught but will not play from a bowl.

______________________________________

Also, could you guys post something? Sometimes the line between genius is a deadline. And at the least, and taking a lead from JR's earlier post, a post can keep one in a habit, which the Spanish for is costumbre, not a costume (don't pose), but a custom. Please, let's do something with this.

Oh and my other blog is: www.heteroglossia.wordpress.com