December 2011
1 post
November 2011
1 post
TRULY GNARLY CRIME SCENE PANORAMA! SO REAL! →
October 2011
1 post
September 2011
2 posts
The Infrarealist Journalist Manifesto
http://www.narconews.com/Issue67/article4489.html
August 2011
2 posts
The Conet Project →
Recordings of mysterious numbers stations
5 tags
July 2011
13 posts
1 tag
Collapse - Iceage
2 tags
1 tag
ahuntersheart:
Paul Celan in his speech at Bremen:
One thing remained attainable, close and unlost amidst all the losses: language. Language was not lost, in spite of all that happened. But it had to go through its own responselessness, go through horrible silences, go through the thousand darknesses of death-bringing speech.
1 tag
April 2011
1 post
PoemCo →
FAITH IN THE AGE OF PURE REASON
February 2011
1 post
POST-REALISM
PoemCo hereby declares copyright and founding credit on the term Post-Realism to describe what has not yet been completely defined as the current most acute and post-post-post avante literary style.
PoemCo hereby acknowledges Post-Realism as a style/study in international dialogue and hereby marks a different and defining clarification between Post-Realism as a school of international relations...
November 2010
4 posts
May 2010
1 post
6 tags
DEAR RACHEL
I stole a couple smokes but we agreed that is chill.
Did you know I’m one-eighth ghost?
Its true, my great grandfather is a dead person.
Morbid, I know, but I’m still awake, years after dawn.
Did you know I’m one-eighth confused?
Its true, my great grandfather is in love with you.
March 2010
2 posts
BLUES RIFF IN B, LOOK TO ME FOR THE CHANGES, AND...
The man who traveled
back to the future, Marty McFly,
was so stupid he didn’t even know
“hover boards don’t work on water.”
Calvin Klein kissed his mother
with toungue –
“You mean you have to use your hands?
That’s like a baby’s game.
“A baby’s game?” Marty repeated,
struck dumb, an antique plastic light-gun
impotent in his old hands.
My grandfather and I watched it on tv. And
that...
7 tags
FINDING SIX DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THIS AND THIS
i. Finding Six Differences
In the first one there is a cloud obscuring the sun.
In the second one the lady is holding a baguette.
In the first one the lady is holding a salami.
In the second one the sun is at a slightly different axis.
In the third one the lady is holding a garden hose.
In the sixth one there is a cloud obscuring an airplane flying in front of the sun.
ii. Pictured are Six...
February 2010
2 posts
POST-POSITIVE VIBES
After our second date, we still hadn’t kissed.
Maybe we kissed, but just once on the lips, maybe it wasn’t our second date.
That summer it didn’t rain all the time, so I can’t remember
the order of the days, every day was yesterday, it was always tomorrow.
One night felt like it was five days until morning, then one afternoon
took all day and a little bit into the next day. I was never...
GET REAL
This is happening.
This is really real now.
Can we all acknowledge that,
for just a second?
Every second, of every August, September, Etc.
Where’s the flash? Where’s the action?
Where’s the online multiplaying cyber sexters
with 3D goggles rolling fat blunts?
Where’s the anarchists hopping train cars?
Where’s the gluten-free bread?
Where’s the independent documentary about
vegan...
January 2010
4 posts
“A lot of the people who read a bestselling novel, for example, do not read much...”
– The Economist (via brantleyjones)
Ballad of the Sandman (excellent spoken word poem... →
Ballad of the Sandman
When the broadcast room’s a living tomb of cracked acoustic tiles,
And you’re left alone with your microphone and your playlist and your dials, And the hands upon the studio clock pass midnight, creep towards one… Then it’s time to take the air once more; the graveyard shift’s begun.
The day shift and the engineers have all left hours ago. ...
December 2009
10 posts
SPRITE REMIX (draft)
I worked as a stockboy in my youth, and then as a baker’s apprentice. I stalked the well-lit alleys of the market with a switchblade, then a box cutter, then a baguette. The blacks in the kitchen took me for walks on my break and smoked blunts right across from the police station; I drank a single can of cold beer behind the store by the train tracks. My only friend was a chronic masturbator....
EAGER TEETH
The blue meadow is a happy place,
That sounds right…in the city of Arcadia,
yellow lamps hang like vultures on the perch,
the evening is a friendly stranger, full of deserted grins,
vacant eyes,
and cavernous vans.
Idling, idling, idling behind the 7/11.
APOLOGY
And I don’t know
an easy way to say this,
doused in gasoline,
and what I hope is fake blood,
all this blood is Larry’s.
Put down that phone.
THERE IS LITERALLY NO WAY OF KNOWING (second...
You can’t let them get to you. I won’t. He smiles and I nod. His eyes are grey as the breakers and I sense some form of boozy halitosis made this man an orphan prince among widowers and widows. I turn my face towards the window and see the constellations reforming. Rubbing my eyes with my palms, I see trails of light and comet tails. Again, I look out the window; this time, unable to focus my eyes...
November 2009
3 posts
THERE IS LITERALLY NO WAY OF KNOWING (first draft)
You can’t let them get to you. I won’t. He smiles knowingly and I nod as though I am absorbing something like fatherly advice, but I’ve only known this man for the duration of a bus ride. His eyes are grey as the breakers and I sense some form of boozy halitosis has made this man an orphan prince among widowers and widows. I turn my face towards the window and see the constellations reforming....
September 2009
1 post
TO MY NEW FRIEND MARIE ON THE EVE OF HER BIRTHDAY
So nice to come home now
and find new friends are over.
From California with bubbles and I’m sure
Some giggles too.
I toast to you!
I toast you with aluminum.
No I toast to you with crystal,
Swaravaski or Tiffany
cuz I can tell a classy broad
by the way she moves her hips.
Happy Birthday tonight and many more,
May good fortune rain on your head
Like candy showers from a paper mache...
July 2009
4 posts
