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Statement

 

“Non-imperial art is necessarily abstract art, in this sense: it abstracts itself from all particularity, and formalises this gesture of abstraction.”

“It is better to do nothing than to contribute to the invention of formal ways of rendering visible that which Empire already recognises as existent.”

 

Alain Badiou, 15 Theses on Contemporary Art

 

According to Islamic belief, human works of art are inherently flawed compared to the work of Allah, and an attempt to depict in a realistic form any animal or person is insolence to Allah. One possible conclusion from this is that artists must address through abstraction our sensory perception, which has been rendered as a dishonest shortcoming via our social malady.

 

If making the familiar unfamiliar is religious protest, then absurd poetry, if effective, can be a revolutionary & spiritual force.

 

To remind ourselves of what we’ve already been told is to limit ourselves to the narratives that comprise our lives. To complicate those notions is to suggest a realm outside of the dominated by falsities- a realm past reason into abstract possibility. In other words, to suggest something larger than common concept is to impede the terrorism of ideology.

 

When we believe ourselves to have total certainty of any concept or moment in our lives is precisely when we are furthest from comprehension. The goal of this chapbook is to expose domestic ills & suggest plausible retaliation. While reading, remember that there is not one line that connects us, but a 3-D web of power. “Life lessons” and “good advice” will shiver, then flake as civilizations morph past their own recognition.

 

The, maybe terrifying, maybe elating, truth is that abstraction is our only hope. This does not only apply to what is called art, but all things we create- from conversation to posture to slang to clothing.

 

Let’s maim defeatism & free a calamitous heaven.

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spectacle

 

tien is the ruin of me! tien is the ruin of me!

 

from The Analects of Confucius (11.9)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

diminished by increase

 

Day is severing fist;

            nightly i dream unity of

 

meal, weather, posture.

            But what is it

 

about fantasy, that swivles

            blimp towards puncture,

 

marriage towards divorce,

            insect towards trap?

 

Does it precede hubris?

            A birthmark spells,

 

d.o.a. A volcano, defined

            by eruption; my body

 

a liquid, defined by its container.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

dataphrenic

overheard, throughout

 

“i am safe now, the figure is full. / each cranial itch / is calculable. // bridge blueprints /

line my smacking lips- / solving equations / shifting my arm. // two points make a segment. / it’s

finite inside. / the ground is level & ready to build. // would you like to work tonight? / take

ecstasy with me / in artificial heat? / you’d love the band. / trust me, i am a studious man.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

nightwaste

 

litters the pavement cir

cumference of my bedr

oom, inven

ted privacy, a feather at win

d’s mercy & a wind whi

ch halts not for u

s, neither fluorescent li

ght nor academy stat

ue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

clasper

 

whoever invented

                                    velcro

                                    must have made a million

                                    must have considered

            suicide you ought to

 

            incinerate

            importance

            it’s

            inevitable

            i wonder

 

                        what i will tell my daughter when

                        she says she loves me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

rot, aspire

 

drinking battery coffee as ego woolgathers boredom. i am both fast and slow. sappho and frank

ocean fuck along floor-to-ceiling windows in my envy. we don’t want to paint. we want to be

painters. Painters Catch Dimes Like Magnets! no one sweats at the gala. the room is dry enough

to use for paper, bright enough to doubt by. a genie told me this is where the books get paid. He

granted me three wishes and they were all to Disappear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

sugar substitute

 

i know well what i am

to you:

 

barely past mannequin

rehearsal rehearsal

 

the vague weight

of your history

runs amok on splintered beam

 

i study paintings of peaches

i search for the line

down their bellies

i ponder voyage across

 

but i am a tangle of powder

in a neat body

a labeled bag

 

you saw the carton

you ate the egg

 

you grew furious

when yolk smeared your skin

left aspartame stains

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

awol’d

 

In frame, a gag written skyward, too toothed to ignore. Sideways quagmire run amok, as the hex

of sight wrings gallons of useless orange- not quite embers, not quite fruit. I’ve described my

body into so many snares that That Rooster beckons waking no longer. Eyes like eggs in a pan,

storyboard snowglobes of dust farms. is the crease in the canvas or the paint? A blotch called leg,

a blotch called splint. The headdress an imitation, the alphabet derivative. Each keyhole so

vague, I’ll stoop-crouch instead. Those bourgeois windows, brittle & bolted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

Diorama Carnival

 

ill with fetish, i

                                    approach.                                            

 

                       Compulsions to

impress

 

                                                                         wrinkle decrepit as

                                                 our Sun hits shield

of stardeath.                                                     Nurse Morph misspelt

                         my name at birth.

The certificate retches me

 

                                                            with weaponized anxiety,

            the bounty on our head.

 

                                                                                   cathexes beat,

            recoil, twiddle

our hair frayed in                                 identity schizm.

                         our theatre

relies                                        on a dandelion theorem-

                                                                                    blow the brains, scatter

 

the fetus.

quetzalcoatl 

 

                                                 pleads me

                                                 find the surface, but i’m gone

                                                 fishing

                                                                                     for antifreeze, marring

                                       the engine, sulfur, masked

                                                                                     sealed to forbid oxygen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

apathy apollo 

 

in my gestures,

 

weep

says

x

i

say

 

how

y?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

airborne tenement

 

                        depletion theatre

            sheets of victim downpour

                                    portly chalk swearing

                                                our calvinistic  ballgag 

                                    pleather benefactors

imitation scriptures

 

pigs at the pork factory

lever-fondling

 

                        where number of

                                                toddler classmates

            must char upon

            prisongrill?

 

                        who now?

                        who tomorrow?

 

my clever frames

harvest no murals

rather

 

funeral gong

            solemn & circling

 

                                                            slumped gournay

                                                            on screwed page

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

[lutheran] sanitizer (DEATHWISH)

 

the

reified past seeps

like dyed wine into

lack.

 

can i

explain this

to you?

 

a grape in the mind

rots inside molars.

 

i keep my nose

to the schism. my cheeks

sink as

reruns chasm.

 

while we’re on the subject,

repetition is

safe death.

while we’re on the subject,

 

this museum needs

heat. i want to touch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

MU

 

WORSHIP IS THE WAY I RIDE! WITCHING CURRENTS THROUGH THE EYE!

 

from Beware by Death Grips

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

SLACKER ROCK

 

We make the right enemies: pasteurized gems, ironed jewelry. Robin Hood elates the boogie-boarders with a ribbon cutting, chillout pavement, spare crayons. Lounging herbivores munch sprouts, request less, recognize mutual. Unwinding the backyard, Recklessness & i build spills. To relax is to make amends. To slouch is to forgive arthritis. Booze cruise me to valley jangle. When i sleep big, cremate my palms & sprinkle them on your secret handshake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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XENON

 

The Guru’s liver

is Vomit Comet.

 

We’re chatting sparks when Xe  tells me

that infinity’s biography is

extra-sensory.

 

Hospice fillers glare at our flower crown.

 

I hum eyes towards gas

station lamps as

an unending holiday beam rivets

me to vastness.

 

The Guru swing

dances and shoplifts the sugar aisle; Xe calls it

The Lo-Fi Pagan Revival.

 

At the register, Xe

suffocates Zeus with Xer big toe.

 

Serendipity’s whirr

pumps our magic carpet skyward &

every quark

in every atom

trumpets antihero.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A STRANGE GAS UNDER DELPHI

 

Balance board cruise

on the roof of

hell, a finger swirling

inside cheek, a touch

to chew, a gnaw on

 

callouses’ day, please

 

walk my grave like a

dauschaund with

photograph fur, zany,

dynamic in his

ballgown, rolling in

 

squirrel piss and twigs,

crooked being.

 

Our bodies, only buzzwords,

scrap metal from

a snap of hunt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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GALVANISM

 

goosebumped in

intuition We loop,

sparking with fertility,

each frame

sporing n others,

an untraceable web,

mindful mallet

nails chisel, reverb

of coincidence, pinpoint

heat spewing electric

bodies, helter-skelter

birthing-pool in

pop & fringe, new wave

& no wave, consonance,

dissonance, You touch

id & id touches You, &

ashes ashes We all ribbit

with dao, a spatter

of acrylic with forks

in our sockets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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SPEAKEASY

 

Neckcrack is power. Poem

boosts spine, the mixed martial arts

of lethal sumac.

 

Soil is the transcendent laundry detergent.

 

Breakthroughs will not

bake in concrete. Unsure is best.

 

Oblique syntax is the honesty,

innerworld wholly absorbed

only with feet roofward.

 

Give me battleaxe, nude & fluid.

I’ve met a cursory shadow.

 

One day, may my lamp

reach Big Precious: my feet’ll

be fingers & those fingers, elation eyes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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SAKAWA 

 

with cauldron in ladle &

 

karmic wormhole aflow

 

tangling your square knots

 

my hard drive is serrated

 

cackle edge

 

 

i am the become

 

 

pressure point howls beneath

 

invisible thumb, but it’s not

 

the hangover, the neighborhood,

 

divorce lawyers.

 

 

blood diamonds will clot

 

as locustplague batters

 

your ice colosseum to a

 

waiting room poster where

 

 

vacuums buzz on planet backs,

 

tongue out the stuttering kinks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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EFFE 

 

                                                                                                                                    A heap of

 

                                                                  nodoff ublich, trashes                   classical

 

                                                      corpsekettle. A nuke arrived

 

                                                                   yesterday,                    a tyranny

 

                                                       anthropological. At the apothecary,

 

                                                                               I hopakpray 

 

                                                        to Xochipilli:                                             soothe us

 

                                                                    with your bike spokes,

 

                                                                                                                           your pyrejigg.

 

                                                                            He shepherds                                      zusammen,

 

                                                               & my skinbliss            goes                 doppio,

 

                                                                                       as flocks zap,

 

                                                                    rustico                                                        & magnetic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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NO DECALS ON BUDDHANATURE’S SKATEBOARD

 

Slicing the watchdog, she ripples

egoless chaos.

 

The chateau has no frame,

revolves the galaxy with its synesthesia

superpowers, the peach

 

plumbing of worldweight,

the everrattle of jellyfish &

chameleon revelry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

​

THE BRAHMIN OF ONE SYLLABLE

 

nebulous shiva stain spread

carpet from floorboard where dogs

purr & toads buzz. all

children see god in headstand

sightrush. wrestling is a

construct; rational violence is

vain. trophy cases flutter

in immanent succession as

jackhammer flourish returns

as moment. tools of atom,

bullets of molten ant colony,

sphering the axes of Our Eyeball.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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KORU 

 

I want a vascular system to wear on my sleeve.

 

           Veins prone as a portal to cosmos.

 

                       We are shapeshifting fruit from a fountain with an attitude.

 

                                    Uncovered, an animal with eye contact.

 

                                               In spraypaint glamour, I propose totality enter me.

 

                                                           I pray big canopy happen in my womb.

 

                                                                      Tumble cocktails in my sightshaker.

 

                                                                                Sunsick & darling.

 

                                                                      Subsistence is a factory beehive, a dehydration.

 

                                                            You don’t need blow to be a revolutionary.

 

                                                You can trust yourself, wizard a hovel to mansion past mansion.

 

                                    There’s no reason to die rationally.

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                     De-roof the city & let god bleed pollen upon Xerself Everywhere.

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        Algorithms iambic, mere bugs in a shade.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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