"Poem Made Possible By Elizabeth Bishop

This gleaming
is the cliff
behind the
scene, , head down, and panic.
and then a baby sidewalk jumped
out, short, to our cognizance. So
soft! a
weak
mailed photon clenched ignorant against the mud
height, rising toward a
glistening cockatoo. The pale green
one. fell. It
splattered like an
egg of versts when almost every night another big
one With fixed. ignited
eyes. Too
pallid, dreamlike mimicry! O
falling fire baboons appear."

--Camille Meesh

K. S.

Here is the rain you prayed for...

K. S.

"Amy Clampitt is a good example of someone who had very little. Her winning a MacArthur fellowship finally allowed her to buy a small house, something she only enjoyed for a few years before dying of ovarian cancer."


"Might Bursk have written the world's only poem picturing A. E. Housman performing fellatio?"


The Smoke.


K. S.

(via metroactive dot com)(What?!)


Welcome to the Anthropocene.

K. S.

"Art is somewhere between the wound and the crowd."

K. S.

Favorite nearly extinct language poll.


"Esperanto does indeed have its own mythology. It does not consist of magical legends, but is a kind of political mythology of hope..."


George and Martha. Springtail says: Check it OUT!


Frame diary uncovered. (via Eeksy Peeksy)

K. S.

"This Connecticut landscape would have pleased Vermeer."


"...some theorize that the end of this storyline actually implies that the rest of the series, the more conventional strips, are all fantasies Garfield is playing out in his head to delude himself from realizing the dark turn his life has taken, as he slowly starves to death in an abandoned house."


Van Eyck. (via bOING bOING)

K. S.

"I'm not cool enough for language poetry."


"Most women (if they want to marry well etc.) have eye surgery to add an eyelid and look western..."


"The future is soulless."

K. S.

   "The Total Eclipse of Florida

Turnaround, Every now and then I get
out among the mangrove islands,
a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms.
They stand on the sand-bars drying their damp gold wings.
Turnaround, Every now and then I get to an un-lit evening,
a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry.
Enormous turtles, helpless and mild,
turnaround. Every now and then I
die and leave their barnacled shells on the beaches,
a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes
and their large white skulls with round eye-sockets.
Turnaround bright eyes, Every now and
I'm twice the size of a man then I fall apart.

And the palm trees clatter in the stiff breeze
Turnaround bright eyes, Every now and then I
like the bills of the pelicans and the tropical rain comes down.
then I fall apart,
to freshen the tide-looped strings of fading shells.
And I need you now tonight:
Job's Tear, the Chinese Alphabet, the scarce Junonia,
and I need you more than ever,
parti-colored pectins and Ladies' Ears,
and if you'll only hold me tight
arranged as on a gray rag of rotted calico,
we'll be holding on forever.

the buried Indian Princess's skirt
will only be making it right
with these the monotonous, endless, sagging coast-line
cause we'll never be wrong together.
Delicately ornamented,
we can take it to the end of the line,
Thirty or more buzzards are drifting down, down, down.
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time,
over something they have spotted in the swamp.
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
in circles like stirred-up flakes of sediment.
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks,
sinking through water.
I really need you tonight,
smoke from woods-fires filters fine blue solvents.
Forever's gonna start tonight,
on stumps and dead trees the charring is like black velvet.

Forever's gonna start tonight--
the mosquitoes,
once upon a time I was falling in love,
hunting to the tune of their ferocious obbligatos,
But now I'm only falling apart.

After dark, the fireflies map the heavens in the marsh.
There's nothing I can do
until the moon rises.
A total eclipse of the heart.
Cold white, not bright, the moonlight is coarse-meshed,
Once upon a time there was light in my life
and the careless, corrupt state is all black specks.
Now there's only love in the dark,
too far apart, and ugly whites; the poorest.
Nothing I can say post-card of itself.
A total eclipse of the heart
After dark, the pools seem to have slipped away."

--Jim Steinman/ Elizabeth Bishop

K. S. (heh heh)

   The Night Graywyvern Spent in Jail

Lost-in-the-Uglymirror
rescue
it's not love
rogue keystrokes haka shakaboomboom
down and if Bezoomny Bog
br br br
ipecac estoy
nuzlo autumnal earlport Tezcatlipoca
crucified with plastic bags

K. S.

(via www dot ndu dot edu slash inss)
B61-11: the "Bunker Buster"


" 'see that girl over there, looking at you. Now she'll never have children.' "


"One of the placards had a remedy for illegal immigration: End illigal immigration, return California to Mexico!." (March 26)


Orbital insertion goes as planned.


Spire.


K. S.

"We know how difficult it is to resist the seductive call of the petty-bourgeois intelligentsia." (via Lime Tree)

I tried. I swear I did. Is it too late for me to repent?

K. S.

   Tower of Cats

1.
cold planet was yet
not like my dream feast hour
from a time to throw
off these story whispers steel
all as red gold going have

2.
sometimes a sloop beyond control
trumps the trollop pools
of my yonder brisk tower of cats
and I spool it so

sometimes an unwary tractate
Oz dolls into attic pours
syrupy as the dawn fathoms
a sloop beyond control

K. S.

Tu'i Malila not Tu'imalila (PKD).

K. S.

   Ululema

seems language left see
dingir eye three separated now
another meaning
following rain utterance dry voice
blood between loam does
determinative elements fly
body dark song time
give form pain sequence mouth call stone phrase
kra space trees woman

man tablet seal pintrpnit
work archaic world upon
water translation
god name near whose own place let
power pleasure sometimes two
may know words inside

K. S.

Ereway inhay the oneymay...


as if it were an isomer of happiness...


Turbo-muggy today.

K. S.