20131101
Excerpt from [SIC] by Davis Schneiderman
“First 30 Tweets”
just setting up my twttr
just setting up my twttr
RT @noah: just setting up my twttr
RT @crystal: just setting up my twttr
just setting up my twttr
RT @tonystubblebine: just setting up my twttr
RT @Adam: just setting up my twttr
just setting up my twttr
inviting coworkers
RT @biz: getting my odeo folks on this deal
just setting up my twttr
RT @rabble: just setting up my twttr
RT @dom: oooooooh
RT @jeremy: Oh shit, I just twittered a little.
RT @jack: waiting for dom to update more
RT @timroberts: just setting up my twttr
RT @dom: waiting for Jack to update more first
oh this is going to be addictive
Planning for Sprint #4
RT @biz: wishing I had another sammich
RT @meredith: just setting up my twttr
RT @meredith: typing my first message
following Mer
RT @meredith: I'll check back in later
RT @biz: having some flowery orange pekoe tea
setting up my mac mini
RT @jack: lunch
RT @dom: free lunch
RT @biz: feeling pains in my back
20130928
20130830
Excerpts from "Tragedie of Marks" by Volodymyr Bilyk
 |
| Gauche Key Ball Arrow Text-Urn Line |
 |
| Drone Chi Tea Some Knee Ditto |
 |
| Gear Land Ah 4 |
 |
| Gear Land Ah 5 |
 |
| ur-zen-bode |
 |
| true bow pro-VOD |
 |
| race of vai |
 |
| trace of why |
20130803
Cut-Up Poetry by Andrew K. Peterson
RITUAL / BESIDE
1. Lady Day among the stones
2. Owns her own rationed refelction
[sic] bought online
3. A can, ivory flowers
4. struggles,
5. To accept the local mirror stone gone
out of business
6. The flower pales with desire the end
7. The flower desires
8. & throws away its skin
9. Refractions of refelction left alone
undone the end
10. I lied, I lay my lying, I do my living
on the floor
I lay my laid my Nile on the war
beside
The dogs with a
wheat block in the blank mountain
College has to
smell like a neck & my drink
Drinks from
strange orange effervescent sediment
Minor annoyances
/ rim mirroring / an email
Should ask for
what’s to be thrown out & what’s to get left over
For potential
ritual, commemorating a return
From an end
towards a non-existent point
Should be beside
a bridge
20130802
Flarf Poetry by Andrew K. Peterson
GORILLA MONSOON
BY GORILLA MONSOON
never saw him
before, never seen him since.
was trying to
prove everything. what brought
it all to life I id just behind the curtain
in gorilla
position 95% or so is
Shine – control /
heat – comeback – finish
One rule: little
guys vs. little guys, big guys
against big guys:
The irresistible force meets
the immovable
object. Don’t we need to give
Everything we’ve
got? then we can recreate
swimming
histories i.e. “I want
to live with a
girl called Alex”. The song
says. “I need a real American”. At least that’s
how I remember
how baffling the squared circle
is reality both in
/ outside of its divisions. wrestling
video voice tapes
back before I was sentinel
consciousness
enough to disarm / articulate desires
The song says “I
need
a real American,” At least that’s what I remember.
Maybe Gorilla
didn’t wrestle
bears with
gypsies, speak no English, raw
eat meat, drink
your victim’s blood. someday
learn what you
learn, hold down
dust with tacks,
suppress a past you didn’t help build
The Rochester War
Memorial,
Discovered
bathing naked with bears
Tears in a
stream. In summary, The Aeneid,
chapter three
Virgil The Bodyguard
turns on his employer,
Wins freedom
& a million dollar belt.
Will you stop? A
clothesline & a Beauty
The kisses The breadbasket
External
occipital protuberance
into an airplane
spin into The Manchurian Splash
This place has
gone bananas
The garden just
literally exploded
20130606
20130506
"Quiet Birds" by Clive Gresswell
the
birds are quiet today
passion
spent by the night-calling
outrageous
creatures
vested
in the black arts
hide
themselves in hovels
and
the birds are quiet today.
The
birds are fucking quiet
fucking
today
speaking
only occasionally
in
their simple language
they
invaded your dreams
where
Anne Frank met Frankenstein
and
the birds are quiet today.
The
birds are quiet today
Amid
the forest of the damned
Wherein
haunt the ectoplasms
Of
a crushed human spirit
Long
ago and far away
Turning
the leaf of another book
Inscribed
by nazi warmongers
Plus
their handful of poems.
And
the birds are fucking quiet
Fucking
today
Over
the tracks
Still
awaiting the last
Whistle
of the secret train.
And
the birds are quiet today.
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