Brain Song.

A brain can be lived, that I
am sure. Over time, livedfor/destroy,

regularity; persuations -you-are-this
be hav ioral-1 cut into word

order. Now you sit & stay still
on the window sill.
Now still.

So still,, on the
     sill. Motion  ended  removed
 the language. A mind

is not born but becomes a;
body. Brother of hers just turns

four years, fast enough. The room,,
fat & traditional & my hands

atop head. Fear ripsat back

&back flails  & this has a happy
 resolve these lines and-star-back-i

look into the upper,, the lower
the brain,,,mine

here  perfects  yours  inclined
t'wards
             crossed the arms on crop

or nape. Banished Head to Wall
Banished Wall to Floor                

fear cuts gently to the back, to the back
to the corner where it lies

&shame-with-oh-it stays, the corner
where desire lights the wall

the back, the corner. Shame-i-i-call
back,, a ,, a brain is not yours,
oh backing   hard.

* * * *

& now say give me back
my brain, let it be the on
ce it was & scream insid
e it & cut back against & rifle & spinneret then
disrupt & brain & you are ( not
& scream at & break for the key.

Notebook Drafts. Spring is not Here...

*

shut up because there is no
life i was not filled up,
rescued, detained. & Felt
Strong, that was not so

without a meaning turn
your lust into words, die
they not mean they you
10022539 every morn i grind

like when my cello  lay with me
is not good to think  f you
is not always held at breath
i took Myself reception, sweat.




*


...'re running under cliff
or pier, glass severally
sprawl through the sky
by the bed.

*

What world is ''''s
us
      da c
would suggest
us
i-as
       no-us- us-no use
there

at beck at

am i the inside the
in -i-no of
blue clot
a flower or
 brain scrap
of carton or
 please hold
still thi
s is an un
fair shril
l the perfe
ct weigh is
 to disease is to
motif is i-not
-i please us the s
mall brack
ets voice the s
now and ra

there was exit
now it is
blind by
when
i am working
in the kitchen
or cleaning the
floor and awaiting
some supervision
then i
fast
as in
there must
hitchiking is like it
i must as quickly
cut out all
just sweep it under
she is working on the floor mind to floor floor to floodlight
she is sprawled
face to floor floor to ceiling
to wall
bleach
fucking ever
seen a place
i work
as quickly
like these lines
they are not
very clean their walls
face their ceilings
the clock is fucked
there is no wall
but the ceiling is good
the floor is germs
there how i felt
to say that these
lines float stupid and
you get not out
them are stolen
some them their technique henceforth
it gets from itself is broken:

in on the blossom
fucks lumps as
 in how dog
s are lumps
get lapsi
 ng joy we as
riding out       YOU BANISH
you
THI
was  rying  o   elp me
you blessed you the
self
blessed little
worth
driving     rijhbu9et
there "is nothing out side the...
"rift in the altar
"night night sweet
"i love you, no i
"feel strongly
,moved to
T I owe you
Noth     move out
Moth it
                "shui
t him move't t' not-the-willing  O to
&scream

 the water ca
lms and roves unde
r gas it is simple
 as
 gas as abstract lack
 in the air is
 moving is i naked thi
s i-floor break
ing this
is
a the imp
erfect montage
three thousand
c e le bra
ti ons off-sanity
-capacitor off-scree
n limit irrit ati
 n  go forward reac
h with your arm
under red satin knot
 in by gas by limp this

out-light-not i-love-not the light falling on red satin this on gorgeous buoy yr

slackened
smile what are you i-shop
 out this weak lack in the
air festers as a lack in the
 sky would lack in he sky
meaning hole why come-i-
together sorry foreshadowed

 limp in useless
classic gas the
lack was there
 pushing over scram
bles the major lea
gues in heart of m
y little wave the f
uck puppet out acrostic
 my face charms
speaks to see littl
e the sanity bas
tards

the air i breathe t
he whole of its
world's the madness
not-Oh-i impose from
 these punctured wound
 removes trash dump that eno

ugh oater chest wound
 left of grimace hate the
charming decadence
 this boy dance broke
 from me boil out left
of line face
in to face left to spell as in lack in the air called not-gas-at all her to come away

Print Reader

i

& rent me to the climate

& slash my slender tresses

& loan me to the atmosphere

& beat me to a teathered frame

& hoist me and infantilise

& tell me it is worthwhile &

emotional..

i have 
             2
i   've got 2 do this
it machine which it
blips to receive the n0 that 10033539 fuck it reads in the girth chart on my finger plain for all to see; / engendered somehow 
                                                                       how it shits

                                                                       and shifts,, o free  ontology /
o don't say common law don't-i-me-up-like that...

           don't
i-me-up.

                             & i did not abandon the  cross
                             of Christ i-o-could-not i o-living
                             & i cared deeply & i skryed
                             & protection, you bastard
                             & sugar
                             & is put into
                             O Christ save me from
                             & this:
                                          My Self

                             flees,, trodden,, forgetful,, similar to the people who walk in stupid,, the world into which what is it to be stupid, forgetting? anterior. patriot doubt. that is the hole it is doubtful to be stupid, singular as i am

walking & cough up a sky

              & forgetmenot & spring Rushing slowly

              like a shit brook un-babbling

              & new schemes

              & what is the spell thou ha-    done 2 me

              & work work 10022539 every day,, employee

              & filled with impossible care till it shuts up till it is revolting, scupper your chance in the sky little princess Verie Verie. 

Goodnight sweet Prinse. U skrub, shred

& always so indignant. Got to clean this place. 

     & as i was spring cleaning
     & was dusting the air
     & was sugared & unhappy how
     weird this dog
     & feed me to this pack of
     & not abandonned
     Christ that so beloved
     severally ....

 

Lyric Trials

Of Grief

--as the tide is wretching
as it is as is not back
alive it hast nothing
in the glyph - physical.

..how (if) you are beautiful
a collection of several
lines detached from material:
verse 1: that body i skull for

there on the floor as if
to stand is too much
and do not, on the
ground heart o rainy sea.


Of Repetition

the abject not-i unsung,, not-face
          these that th/ eye undefinite
order, waste.. not i-waste,, mineral
assaulting. Implausible beat cast
or user or service or in your crude
your care or long bereavement, impossible
Stain Or Pill.
bereavement curtailed or crossweed
don't dupe this man or sweet
breaker, silence falls in pale grief
fists first & tight.
                             In brief agitations
                             pride against
                             pride, this head,
mottled,, caught up in shimmer
polars. & && yes be I feear, catching. Yes
this still i-work-at    (face, your)
                              i, a nail up.
                              Water's roof.   ''

Then was the sweet weather proved:
When i saw. when I saw it, broken hideosity
of calm.


Of to Punish

sublimate my lust in two
a constant wordy pressure.

terrible screen: undelete
the total, the total call of my

desires. reached, invoked objects
terrible in its best clothes. 


Of Flux

&  'll   lounce  forth to   ur    vice
to the knell with mistaken
delivberate, deliberately mistakenly;
to flail across you summerised
to service, sublimated in two worlds.

song-i-eye

The eye pops
out is held in fingers

fingers chuck & flick
the i-out-eye falls                                                            history, sheer touch in this room
                                                                                        i feel,, eye,, i-not oh i-fell flat not sight.
sight seeth) legal-i
site of un-vision un-i
-logical

moving from strength
to detention-i 38-i-  left out. ou   ant  e i   ant  ou   u

 an  ip
p   y     

  irt this -i0-Tio
drops the eye
your eye i know -not-i
its colour

 there is this cold all consuming shame that is the collared eye

or the long rain. I eat the eye not I-hungered-for the eye not-i

at all but a exit. a exit from here the sun filling the room

you ----    you are the ---- you are teeth --- you are teeth to eye -------- imagine that being

teeth as to eye as teeth are to eye

('and i go around the walls of the room. i go through the vent & have ripped the vent's cover from the wall. this speaking won't stop the noise in this speaking won't stop. there's hair in the bag there is a scattering action must be performed so they degrade. minerals attack the structure of rice. fuck you.')

fights mine
    kers   lk
float the eye

i-down
     arallel  an
scream.

Your beauty lives
in my
imaginary

 e  rbit
in  magination

 we
 live
 our kink  -here

0
O
I
  ar   at  echnical
caning, wooden ruler

fficial   train
          s
go up from these lines
move  ur    yr eye
                              round
a
(a)
        them
eyes
round

- flick redactor - why mostly i come in sincerity or  retend it is so.
- flick ear,, mostly written here
- in the distance
- called public. call into distance you an imagine
- all the people, sodoms, tactile neighbour, redactor, flip to position,  culat
one.

democ
rat

-no pace no coil, sense is that the breed is love the breed never dies the breed is long white principal ,,, i search -not=i---u ,,, searching for breeze for doors,,, institutional door is a math of ,,lmg hnMy Friend Nat In Resistance to desk shock absorb in absconding in r op
work

--elated injure
--ost time incident
                                                      fuck on time
                                                      screams Nat
 -ennis elbow.

it arise eye - (i-not seeing)
                                             all even pleasant
                                             norms of labour
                                             injure dear one list
                                              e  an    cape it &omehow

physical kill upper management stratosphere these are by saying kill i mean the position should not occupy physical space or imaginary time or any space in the triangle of symbols or outside it by one was beheaded and became St. Lloyd was sent
colony revanent
arch vile
arch
arch
arch fucking arch
ye   KPL    BAKCcc  Tio - my - sam - loves - Tio m- y nOT-i-manage-on£7.whatever-i-a-week-in-non
physical time is how i recycle

it ends

how in my throat do explain catches an word Sylvie???
HR remain my love to thee. // and come eat at trough
come remain in tact delicacy,, chaos rolling round the mouth
screaming round the snowing stars the settled shred
a flicked out ear motions falling and fading && totally
bastard this shock  reatment  appen    n    is    room ur
 randmother   n      iron L U N G BOUND  what precinct
made us antimatter called sanity I understand not why
 ecycling   ould degrade   aster least the machine
why the hand is machine of course it is nothing stronger
than the
human
hands
out strips

 nd  ry to  ake u normal    aye!

'it is love' my shame my shame called back

Poem

The institution, a door, I-body;
the privilege of chewing gum,, fire door
sticks & listens, waits privately; it can't
move the division of time,, effort,, face
from the farce of return. From the deathless

abject not-I-wonder who moved
the bear not-I-You-can, wasps don't
sting, don't bite or touch not-I-help-Nice-
You not-I corrections, arrangement of bottle
the institut- ion is no-empathy, that social

experiment-I failed,, all sucked and productive,
all valued all emptied to the sucking cars, .
Now-I want to suck and swallow, you in
your cropped hair & braces, I-stark arrangement,,
pigtailed & skin & frills in the not-exact light

 or tide, I-institution of not, plastic or dick
or imagined,,, yours catching in the gag, leashed
(collared) ((not-light-I_)) tide or tore. Decent
articulate mouth topped up & you come over
again in I-over me over I-not worsening I-placating

yes-i-hold empathy, clumsy un-mute in the jaw
& sssing: She is a nameless bale,, sissy or slut;
when we scream in the distance called public;
we-always shut in perfect care & yes it shocks
the natural voice or no it turns them into heads:

cuts out the supply, demands the use be
I-occluded, the chide near paradise hurt
& bound &, sexed unhurting un-I-shaming
full at peak in shame.

Anacrusis

& desire is stopping

& is not death

& desire is killing-I-(i)-self 

too. &too close &too

solid,,

the stock that is the light

moving close

closing the collar round

the left of the eye. 

Errata

I-i

i-I

((I)) - (i) - i(I)

and - &

& - (

empathy - foreclosure, error, life.

(try 

 the holding of

 in this

 stocks

 head, arms i-

 distinction & promise

 shot).

A Short Essay on How to Make Your Poetry More Marxy - For Jowself Churchyard Linkin Waltzon

Moving forward, I recommend that the/an HR Director must review all written directives to employees before they are given to employees to avoid the communication of inappropriate directives such as in this example. 

Then one of his servants answered and aid, "Indeed! Let them now take five of the remaining horses, of all that remain of the multitude of Israel.

Creative Writing students will already be aware of the numerous distinctions within left aesthetics. To recap, Marxist, Marxian and Marxy. The latter (in the final week of the trilogy - now) is used to describe (as in late Horkheimer or 'first' Beckett, or any number of other men - plastics and directives etc.) that which sounds like it might have something to do with Marxism, but is yet marked by a seething or dulling (etc.) abstraction that reduces it to merely being 'Marxy' - marked (as in beast) by its Marxyness. An awareness of the necessity of product naming, a recourse to obscure letters and theories known well to some (the more Beckett) of its readers - we all recall Ian Vine's letter to TEI on 25/5/66.

It is the task of this course (and its constituent parts, as in the commodity and its use value) to delineate the possible strategies for achieving this aesthetic principal. ((There are per-formative - reading - principles covered here too, for which the editors do not apologize)). 

You have all written a poem as stressed in last week's handout. I want you to take your poem in your hands and examine it. Look beyond its language sphere and into the deep hard grain of the paper and the ink that strains over the grain, lilting as if by design into the shape of processed order endemic to the maximum sublimation of the product on the Internet. We shall now perform a [productive (etc.)] analysis by [sub-limation] synthesis. We take as our subject a "poem" by Simon Armitage: (we the editrix have decided to mark our additions in blue with some strange occasional highlights. Prognosis later).

The sun comes like a headless Iraqi
through last night's bare luminosity turtleneck.
A pigeon in the yard on the Internet turns tail Capital
on its ass and offers me a credit  card. Any card.


From pillar to post, a pantomime dis-associative cathexis
of damp, forgotten washing ping / dial up Qaddafi


on the washing line, dope.
So, in the breeze: elastic prognosis

of love songs for credit - the olé of a crimson towel flag revolting.
the cancan of a woman who I cannot love despite

the monkey business of a shirt
pegged only by its value, a woman gets on top.

Name a product:

the cheerio
of or a handkerchief. *

 
I drop the blind lyric DiCaprio vacant
but not before a company

of half a dozen hens
struts through the gate, Baghdad

looks round the courtyard
for a contact lens, credit in my heart.

[*we were very close to including the line 'my heart as generality, as parity / escaped on flesh', which Armitage himself excluded first]. 

As you can see, not much of the poem required changing. The alterations mainly occur as additions. Brevity is confronted - we elongate the sentiment into abstraction. There are certain words essential in the type of poetry we are moving towards. 'Internet' and 'Credit' allow the poet to maintain the affect of disdain without mounting a critique. If you can manage to do this with a friend you're guarenteed an all expenses trip to the Rich Mix gallery (etc.).

The Muse is obviously essential. It's best if the Muse is contained within the brevity of an unnamed woman and/or an unnamed civilian caught up in conflict. [NB // some might install a soldier also]. Remember, love is only capitalism. This must be your driving principal. Syntax is the enemy of love which is capitalism. Bad bathos is also a weapon. Drop a contemporary reference alongside a crescendoing sublimity. Remind your readers how fucked everything is. In fact, fuck your readers and their reading with your Penis.

Your Penis.

This brings us on to the late (see Adorno for 'late' // 'sp'a't'): the performance of a poem. First of all stand uncomfortably in (object) relation to the microphone. You don't want anybody to hear your poem. Reluctantly move closer if prompted, but you can't be too quick in your ((late)) moving back away from it. Ensure it is never at mouth level. It is not, after all, your Penis. Returning to the bad bathos above, when reading these lines you may experience laughter. It is, after all, funny to juxtapose suffering and pop culture. If your audience do laugh scowl at them as if they have done something wrong. You understand the brutality of culture and its intricate relations. Katy Perry is not funny. Katy Perry is pure death. Katy Perry is your Penis [NB Lobachevsky etc.]

It is best that your poem lasts longer than is comfortable. Don't forget to use make your not point over and over again. People are very patient at readings. Do not imagine that conviction, intelligence and wit are necessities. It is enough to synthesize their characteristics and replicate them. 

Finally, and this is final, just as finality is atheistic, as aesthetic is late, as late is collusion etc. Universities etc.  See Dorn etc. the Poet must be shuddering in the depths of a concept. It is not enough that she regulates her reality through the framework of rigid lyric prosody; she must at once create and dismantle the world through the prism of the value judgment. She must do this. Go and make her do it. If she doesn't do it we need more women poets. In terms of your concept it must engage the reader by way of its startling ambition or by shock value. I, for example, little students, introduced my finest work to the world by remarking that it was, in fact, an operating death hex. It didn't work.

I hope this has been of help. Jowself Churchyard Linking Waltzonmate requested it. He has been on strike for a while, so I hope it helps him tone up his lyric muscles (on credit etc.). If you are a Creative Writing tutor at, say, a University (NB time, late time and the crisis) I would be more than happy for you to employ any of the above strategies in the training of your young hopefuls. Indeed, they are not in fact my words or principles.