Showing posts with label stunted forms of consciousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stunted forms of consciousness. Show all posts

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Poem 101: Enter Bastard. Solus.

Wherefore base. Bastard? Base?
Spelled same:bass and bass
as in bass clef
and bass boaet

bass? bass?
which one am I saying:
one rhymes with face
while other rhymes with ass.

of course I know
it comes from the Latin
base
plus 'tard'

to be dealt with later
as in the art, or,ars, of.

I hope you're getting this.

bass plus tard: bastard
means 'begot in a saddle'

tis why I am alive:
so,
let copulation thrive












Saturday, March 18, 2017

Poem XXXIV: No news

But in the end
headlines can give no peace

even the one you have waited for
exactly all your life

is merely one more
improvisation
another inconclusive
experiment in death

similarly that email, or tweet,
for which your ass has been holding its breath

it will leave you scrounging around
your wilderness of wasted flesh
with nowhere
any
fucking
refresh





Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Poem XXV: Non ea videmus

All around us:
gifts from the dead

at all times
blindly we are
bumping into them

these gifts

of which we feel we merit
our insane portion