26 September 2012

(+3). Well, that was interesting.

So.

For the last 89 days, I've been working on a project. I'm still not convinced it's done, but most of the pieces are there. Many of my posts, as part of that project, have been kind of fragmentary or odd; they fit together in productive ways, but I'm not quite sure as to what. Still, the writing that I've done here has been productive for my work, and for my brain. Sometimes putting on a different face (to meet etc) is necessary.

I'm going to go back to some more familiar writing styles for a bit now, links, reactions, short essay-type things, the whole deal. Won't be posting quite as often, but the pieces will probably be more useful (and less troublesome, because we all know that anything that isn't immediately transparent and happy is bad and worrisome) for casual readers.

In conclusion, for now, a question:

Are we supposed to win?

And two followups:

What does winning look like?
Who are we?

22 September 2012

2. five by five

Like our conceptions -
not like a vision                           //                      (nine months studying
a connotation) -
Mister                        Harris cribbed                  

a sort of journal -
the audiences                               //                      are never surprised -
all eighty-five days
from the                      Genesis.

Revelation. Ten
consumed with drawings              //                      giant fluffy hearts -
seventy-eight per
cent happy                  clusters,

"I love you" stenciled.
Police have gathered                   //                       a great evidence -
concealed much of it.
Friends and               family,

all suggestible.
Proceed with caution.                  //                      Resist temptation.
Dylan's loner hearts
burning why               he seems

21 September 2012

3. a future of promise

n't belong
to any particular clique.
quiet, guarded, seemingly
sad.
once you broke through -

juvenile.
one person in, while four others -
authorities. counselors
hand.
in "complete shock."

ver' normal -
a sad look in his eyes a lot,
he talked normal, never strange.
Lane -

20 September 2012

4. Soli Deo Gloria

there was a police would say
police are saying

we saw pictures of helicopters
a low industrial park

put directly into armored vehicles
very little known

current nursing student
it's an ongoing investigation

not releasing

18 September 2012

6. hackettstown

yes sir and I'm nineteen years old, I drove to
High School, the High
um my friends car and running and wait and yeah tried to

uh what you mean - yeah I'm walking I'm,
I'm running, can you hear that, can you hear


ok but uh Kevin where at the High school are you exactly, can you
just stay still, I hear you walking around, if you stay still I can
have someone come right to you this way they can help you out -
Kevin you still with me - hello - Kevin - Kevin - Kevin you still with
me - Kevin - Kevin you still with me - Kevin you still there - Kevin you still
there - Kevin are you still there - Kevin hello - Kevin you with me
at all or no - Kevin you there - Kevin if you can't talk to me but
you can press a button on your phone go ahead and do so, again
Kevin if you can still hear me go ahead and press a button on your
phone if you can't or do not want to speak - Kevin you still there -
Kevin are you there - hello Kevin are you there - Kevin are you
there - Kevin are you there if you can not speak press a button
please - Kevin if you're still there if you cannot speak press a
button - Kevin are you there - Kevin are you there, if you cannot
speak press a button - Kevin can you hear me - Kevin if you can
hear me please try to respond, if you can't just press a button -
Kevin if you're still with me if you can't speak press a button -
Kevin are you there - Kevin are you there - Kevin if you're there try to
talk to me if you can't talk press a button - Kevin are you there -
Kevin if you're there talk to me if you can't press a button - Kevin
are you there - Kevin if you're there come back and talk to me, if
you can't press a button - Kevin are you there - if you cannot
speak press a button - Kevin are you there - Kevin if you're there
and cannot speak press a button - Kevin are you there . . .

17 September 2012

7. cjt

released     the chaos
unfolded        turning         himself

flashing      unidentified
i saw leaves falling from the trees

police       were released
near a fountain         in front of the tower

an excellent student
ran into the library




16 September 2012

8. instant replay

yes
yes

and the school is in a panic
i'm in the library
i've got students

under the tables kids
heads under the tables

i saw a student outside
i was in the hall

i was on hall duty

13 September 2012

11. this is a test of the emergency broadcast system (h/k diary)


fuck this city and its highways that roar obscenities through my headphones
and its miles of gray pavement that give me no place to walk
and its safe fucking inhabitants who can't hear noise without calling the cops
and its cops smirking behind plexiglass shields
and its anarchists with their love of black who wouldn't know a revolution if it punched them in the face and would run the other way the moment they saw a gun
and its silence begging to be pierced with .45 reports across the empty avenues
and the empty streets at three in the morning. Have you never walked around drunk looking for a fistfight? Of course you haven't. Your momma raised you to be a pacifist.

and its smug fucking faces, eyes begging to be blackened and lips that have never split or swollen
and its cyclists in their spandex and their self-righteousness hogging the fucking road and sidewalk and dinging their little bells to ask you to pass
and its liberals who think that everything will be okay if you just vote for the democrats
and its politicians who smile through their fat fucking beards and dogwhistle the shit out of the protesters who have nothing the fuck better to do with their lives than hold a sign.

Fuck you, assholes. You really think you're convincing anyone who isn't already on your side? You really think you're going to make a difference by chanting and sitting down? Link arms when they turn the dogs on you, assholes, I'll be standing off to one side with my weapons ready, waiting for you to ask for help.
But i'm not a fucking cop, and I'm not the DOJ, I'm not within the ordered society that you still trust for some godforsaken reason, so you never will.
You really think that the politicians and the media and the NGOs give a shit about you? Reelect your fucking Obama, that lesser of two evils motherfucker who talks about unification while he steps on the necks of anyone who isn't white middle class straight male moderate god damn I hate all you fucks.
fuck all of you.
Someday soon, I'll interrupt the sacred silence of your hallways. Your libraries will echo with explosions, your museums will crumble and take their god damn histories with them.

10 September 2012

14. disperse ye rebels (b river)

survivors do hate themselves
liquid language of my rage

the knuckles, the nails tremble
swinging him a scythe, hanging,

chattering, vodka, codeine,
whiskey, beer, wine, mda,

pcp, speed, mescaline,
the nerve, the anger, the need.

can't you take it? on your knees,
kid, can you take it? blank-faced

back to work in the morning.
we an't no different. never

  tell the funniest stories
  yeah i tell her but i lie

09 September 2012

15. peace, peace

When everything is at its worst, your mind just throws it all into the wastebasket and goes to Florida for a little while. There is a sudden electric what-the-hell glow as you stand there looking back over your shoulder at the bridge you just burnt down.

(you just described modern psychiatry)

Death is divestment, death is communion. It may be wonderful to mix with the landscape, but to do so is the end of the tender ego.

(you merely broke my life)

“The world must be all fucked up,” he said then, “when men travel first class and literature goes as freight."

(you had no mercy as you poisoned yourself)

Do not be afraid of your enemies; the worst they can do is kill you. Do not be afraid of your friends; the worst they can do is betray you. Be afraid of the indifferent; they do not kill or betray, but because of their silent consent betrayal and murder exist on earth.

(and yes you said yes you will yes)

08 September 2012

16. sun dance


Two overhead lights, 40-watt, in recessed and covered settings in the ceiling.

A flag hanging over the window: blue background, white crescent moon, the word "liberty" in bold white letters. Only the crescent is visible through the crosshatched glass.

In a niche set into the wall beside the door, a collection of neatly organized camping equipment: a sleeping bag and pad; a large mag-light, black, metal, resting vertically; a large tarp, folded into a neat rectangle, with carabiners through the metal-ringed holes in its sides.

On a wooden dowel five feet above the floor, set horizontally within another niche, a series of clothes hangers, containing: one corduroy jacket, brown, 40 long; one blazer, gray, 40 long; three dress shirts, gray, blue, black, slim cut, 16.5/35; one pair dark gray dress slacks, 31/34; two pairs bdu trousers, olive drab and black, regular-long; one raincoat, black, large; one cycling jersey, blue with black side panels, large; two hooded sweatshirts, gray and black, xl; two neckties, red and black; one leather belt, brown, with buckle; one cloth belt, black, with d-ring fastener; two denier nylon holsters, both black, one shoulder, one thigh. 

Below the hanging garments within the niche, an array of undergarments and less-formal clothes, neatly folded and organized.

To the left of the door, a black-stained wooden desk. On the desk's top, laid out next to each other: four allen wrenches; two screwdrivers, Phillips-head, one large, one small; a small hacksaw with serrated blade and black plastic handle; a small cardboard box with an Amazon.com shipping label, within which are stacked (in order of decreasing size) sheets of notebook paper, one novel, bills, letters from family; a bottle of water; two pairs of glasses, in plastic cases; a small laptop computer, black, closed, plugged in, with the cord neatly coiled behind it.

Above the desk, hanging from a nail: ID badges from various academic conferences; two "finisher" patches from bicycle races (one green, one black).

Across from the door: a bed, size full, with mattress and box spring, on a wooden frame.

On the bed: a thin green blanket; cotton sheets and pillowcase, slightly stained; two Hi-Point .45-caliber semi-automatic handguns, disassembled; eight nine-round magazines - four loaded with Winchester White Box 230 grain full metal jacket, four loaded with Winchester White Box 230 grain jacketed hollow point; one Romanian AK-47 assault rifle, disassembled; eight twenty-five-round magazines, each loaded with Fiocchi 123 grain full metal jacket.

Next to the bed: a small night-stand, wood, painted flat black. On the night-stand's top: one alarm clock, digital; Dhalgren, paperback, with creased spine and coffee stains; a plain, white ceramic mug half-full of water; a plain, white ceramic mug half-full of coffee; a six-inch length of 42-gauge copper wire; a ball-point pen, black ink, clear plastic.

06 September 2012

18. shall we gather (a river)

shadow moving over me
fascinating, horrible
running ahead

lie stolen from a book
like lavender
memory of sour sweat and snuff.

i do not know what lavender smells like
how wonderful
to close my eyes

wrecks, shotguns, dusty ropes,
screaming, falling out of windows,
things inside them.

fascination with violence
the bigger veins near the elbow
disappeared

hunger and heat and dying
sleeping but not sleeping
i almost never

05 September 2012

19. a time swarms swift-footed (k sonnet)

the keenest experimenters find twenty images
better than one, especially if contradictory

the comet, or meteoric streams
a complex of minute mechanical energies

unharmed, in defiance of law
the ultimate object of science

a new universe of force
complexity extended immense horizons

more like explosion than gravitation
physical force and mental complexity

an explosion of vertiginous violence
the deepest alarm and horror

  the inadequacy of old implements of thought
  common salt in indefinite solution

03 September 2012

21. yea, though it walks (j sonnet)

a tribe of the quiet land
once had a rite of passage

the aspirant was buried alive
where no light could find him

where no ear could hear his sobs
this was the final rite

after a span of days
he was numbered among the wise

darkness is a knife that peels away
what you think you know about yourself

the shades of your pretenses
the tones of your illusions

  darkness hides everything
  except who you really are

02 September 2012

22. a collector (i sonnet)

whose theme would be a myth
a progressive fall into blackness

blindness, but at the same time into sight
a story whose actants are the personal pronouns

those "persons" that are the you of the reader
the he of the Japanese doctor

the I or we of the blind man
who is the subject of the enunciation

and, finally
an empty person, marked by its absence

the absence of everything, that, grammatically,
is signified by the impersonal

  there was a sparrow pecking in varied rhythms
  i listened to his message in Morse code