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Well, I still have my De Kooning to aspire to (jerk)
— with a cursed lorgnette — no real rudder
philosophy. I can have all those features (impaled on a stake,
runner up in the gubernatorial campaign
in NYC) — blending in when the volume control
of all their heads
is tipped toward ten.
Some of this screaming from Tan Dun seems to reflect
this impassiveness, cathartic but recorded,
so I can imagine this tempestuous
ritual is also something being listened to by Bob
Mould, in Cleveland — insensate.
For your pleasure: try the Mount Rushmore posture
for any longer than 15 years, and see if
the revelation of narcissism is something that suits
Devandra any more
than it suits
you — true details
deflect, the untrue are absorbed
— natch.
We were impressed by his Frank O’Hara imitations
on the plane, though it sounded like French soufflé
fed through a Kaos box — and given
an “Asian mom” perm.
“I never seen this room looking so good.”
AAA:
Another American Artist
in 200 cubits or less marks shadows
with copper-wire pigeon toes, the “not-me” syndrome
(“not-me shadows, not me asylum!”)
and revisits the Star Wars trash compacter scene
by suggesting Olive Oil’s
knees are stronger than
iron — and were first imagined by Alfred Hitchcock
skimming through Clayton Eshlemen’s palindrome bin.
“My little idea is in pieces until I finish this work.”
My idea
is in parts. I’d take up a samovar
and play whist there with the Marx
Brothers while everyone and I
My idea is a heart in the basement
UNTER DEM LINOLEUM
“p-thuck! p-thuck! p-thuck!” (a purring sound)
(echoes of Philip Guston) other terrestrial hauntings
decaptivated by Fisher-Price
joys,
now that the idea of the flood has subsided.
Is this what it’s like
to sleep in a pile
of corpses?
I woke up because my dentures were dirty
and all the thinking was like 1975.
She was there. So was
she. And she was there. We called her
Flexible Mitten.
The pose of the “pulse in Soho” makes my
hair follicles screech, but that’s before
I was disabused
of the inevitability
(houses made of Saran Wrap)
— of the inevitability of death.
I can’t say I feel much better now.
When they had that hinge joint installed
in the putter, I was the star
of a TV series that took place
in the Bronx
but was secretly filmed
in Toronto — why’d they do that?
As the days grow longer
I become emphatic 7.
A little melancholy,
a little tragedy,
a little Zoloft
adds to a man’s character.
A little heart-cutting strings means
that your cosmopolitan Tourette’s
hasn’t entirely alienated you from those
who might love
you.
It’s like a famous rapper’s style
that’s somehow mellowed in the plastic
wrap
but is good snuggling music.
I just cooked three different
dishes of the “white trash”
variety,
like Uh-ma used to make.
I’ll bring them to work, I’ll mix them all up,
I’ll be richly contented.
He learned the seven Gracias
in the Countess Second’s
flat. The reality principle changed the face
of religious discipline: tossed up girls
with Aquinas buttocks.
Afterwards,
spilled Cosmos made patterns
of roses in the pool. Raoul Vaneigem
ended up on one of those Iraqi playing cards.
To be free,
and ice skating! Marvel of the furry
caterpillar scooting across
fragrant, come-and-get-em lawns.
We are saddened.
Communist floes icened
his face. Our country pays Puritanism
to heave out doubt.
We are the floridas of Tulsa,
but we are the cavities of the Future!