Apr 19, 2012

Periphery


Lost light
with nary a design,
deigned to designate
a swathe of the badlands
for running water.  Immersed
upright forms suggest figures moving
far away on the tops of buildings on the impossible
line of the horizon, which is never so close as to be
touched—a pink line, shimmering with heat from which
emerge churches of bone like teeth.  Their ilk demarcating the horizon,
a cadre of corpulent fools; such things as were discussed before you were born,
the art of sucking on a lemon.  Those things that are rotten at the core.  You know,
way back when, the boat of the best fell off

the edge of the world.

Apr 13, 2012

Beachcombing Robots


Last ocean & blue
sky.  Beachcombing robots
supercede us long
after we’re gone. 

The segmented hoses
of their gentle arms—
violence is stoked
by hunger,

despair by thirst.
To take it all in,
like a steady stream
of irritating smoke. 

Even under your skin
it’s still you—a million
little reactions you have
no idea about.

What does it even look like
inside your lungs?
To this day, still a mystery
to yourself & everyone else.

Mysteries sell
very well,
but not yours—unsolved
& with no apparent motivation.

Apr 8, 2012

The World of Tomorrow


What made wings into arms?
Not to anticipate actual birds
inhabiting the bird-angles
of the dynamic chariot of the future;

flowers of rust paint the rippling
calves of the Atlas of tomorrow—
striations frame the real still blood
of anticipation, now long lost;

how the unseen will kick balls
around the reflecting pools
as the empty lightning cracks
rock bottom.  Ice cream trucks

tinkle above the time capsule & remain,
unironically, the same
just like today is
the same as yesterday. 

Concentric rings above
the forgotten amphitheater, songs
in the wrong tongue for some,
but songs nevertheless rebound

around the disintegrating saucer,
tear-stains of the moldy gods,
the great steel shoulders
of industry burrowed through

by minutes & air & noisy shadows—
what holds the torch high above
the muddy fields will burn
down to the knuckles & the body

itself will ignite, an alien sun in the sky
above the fields
you will never know.

Apr 7, 2012

DANCE POEMS

 BYE
 Mats Ek


Looking in


                        looking out



                                    going
                                    the double

the flower of portals

                                    lifting the bucket


swung braid


                        backed

                                    puppeted

                                                spirited

            circus


                        ghost


                        stereoscope
                                                wallflower

                        bilateral
                                    flutter


                        without
                                                gravity


                                                            mirth


                                    monkey

realign
                        crossed



path                                         revenant

                        reassured

                        square              jumper


knocked            circler
                                    looper
                                                breather



                        pacer



                        like breath on glass





            apace
                                                visit


                                                            wander

in place
                        found
                        horns of the dilemma



                        nodded
                        stuck
                                                boxed

quotidian popper


                                    window light


                        pool



                                                plane



                                                recall



                                                huddle
                                                            lift



anemone


                        rise


                                    a mill

                                    aspun


boxed
            lick of flame


                        audience
                        is


                                    astir—


                                                hello
 

 

Apr 6, 2012

DANCE POEMS

27'52"
Jiří Kylián

27'52"

Lain                                         Eurydice


                                    battle

demon flower
                        play
                                                            telepathy

                                                            arm

tower
                                                            pyramid eye
            walker
                                                offhand shifter

            flutter
                                    kinetic
shove  weapon


                                    aorta
                                    valve

whelm                                    Rorschach


mover             taken

                                                            mirrored

            zoetrope                     shadow runner
                                    katabasis

column
                                                rubbed

                                                disrobed


            disarmed


                                                sorcerous

lantern

            heartstring
           
                                    fallen

to sky


                                                            hidden


            steeple table




held

                        stranger

victotry winged

                                                shadow
                                                obelisk

                        caved
                                                                        sky
                                                                        clock


            lift
                                    flag was spun

                        is the flag of
                                                human


            ran amok




                                    enclosed

                                                            underground

                        understand


Apr 5, 2012

DANCE POEMS

REARRAY
William Forsythe



Door into water

                        blink



                                    down right
                                    open

            blink


                        verge


                                    magnetic

                        blink


                                   
                                    piston


                                    feeler            stuck

                        dial
                        cog
                        jump
                        blink


zephyr



            pulled air climber


            slash

                        blink

coriolis            Atlas
                        scimitar dash

                        blink

            somatic canticle




            abridged

up            (laughter)
                                                prowed

            helmed
                        screw

            behind                        swivel

                                                dream


walk tumble
                        man
                                                pythian slide



skulker
            wraith
                                    blink


            glass            spun

                        top


circles & circles

                                    revolve

                                                            love
                                    back gait


puller prayers

                        withdrew

            in anger
                        absentia


            cannot touch
                                    blink





left lean

            push take

away crawl


            revolver
                        drill
                                                            wings

                                    shadow


propeller blade hum

                        wishbone

            curling wave

                        blink

                        converse


            descend
                        blend

            overarch
                        self                        turn


parallel waltz

                        lever


                                    slider            layer

                                                            bola people


plank

                                                            exit


Apr 2, 2012

The Smoky Rose of Dawn Above

The smoky rose of dawn above
            the second city of absence,
                                                quiet streets
                                                ERROR 404
                        in the shunned time,
the unseen
            visible in the lonely train—
builders, cleaners, only Jesus
            & McDonalds prowl the swirling eddies
of bright cold trash—WE ARE HAPPY TO SERVE
            YOU in the pantomime of Athenian
                        democracy flattened amongst the parade
            of impossible placard women
who inhabit someone’s fabricated
            evening, who balk at this
            the hour of the misplaced—sheenless
                        among shitty diapers & Styrofoam peanuts.

                        What even the champion somnambulist
            will wake to—
                        work, age, the quotidian
            a bleeding limb inside the haute
knockoff jumper—trash collectors scouring
the curbs in search of some kind of relief,
            the answer is there
                        between metal teeth,
buried or flushed out to sea,
            clogging the world with its urgency.