tardigrade in the sun (day 143)

(@abandonedameric)

"...the marks are starting to run for occupy office."

"Indolent he was, and tyrranic, and full of strange luxuries and cruelties; but the people, who were also evil, acclaimed him in his turpitude." --@KlarkashT

House of shadows, home of simile.

what is to be done
with all these days in July
a catafalque in liquescent gold
a rumor in a long-forgotten language

at this work
we are lost to Arcadia
given over · to inventorying swarf
in this cone
hazard's self, mimics

now i don't know how to render here
extract of rare lehuas
more than the image

of a div

Deck us all with Boston Charlie.

"winter solstice
and little waves splash
the cicada's voice"

--@poem_exe

Turnip.

(@barrybutler9)

ambiguous loss (day 142)

(via via @joycecaroloates)

Kripkenstein.

I used to love monsters...until they started running things.

Sing Sing Nights.

i must be carrying something
although my hands remain empty
the lone skeletal polltaker
blurts asphodel

all my sober sciamachy
cannot win me significance
i feel caught in a triolet
Armageddon

manager odd

DuBois on R E Lee.

"Trump says he might not accept the 2020 election results. If he needs a recommendation, I have a great therapist who helped me accept the results of the 2016 election." --@StephenAtHome

(jacob lawrence via brian clements on fb)

doomscrolling (day 141)

(@TerrifyingVids)

Wikidelia.

"winter sunset
even unto death"

--@poem_exe

"Those in The Order who live long enough eventually find themselves drawn, unconsciously but irresistibly compelled, to a door that should not and should never have existed."

divest-rattle elbow
for which i purge gimcrack
breath-hot flourish Mothra

this nothingberg rusted
this rapture of cattle
divest-rattle setback

i whittle you into
where Mothra rides shotgun

"On the Other Side, there will be fewer statues of that kind. This is guaranteed."

"Then, without pause or preamble or further comment, in a leisurely and methodical fashion, it began to devour him." --@KlarkashT

(ericaofanderson on tumblr)

clacker unit (day 140)

(thewave on tumblr)

"Venus in Furs" by Lithium Xmas.

"O king, I know the melodies of oblivion." --@KlarkashT

Hierarchical theory of time.

My mount is at Orion being repaired
while i explore my absence of inertia
waiting for delivery of water
or bad news, or a shuttle bus to Mizar
here we are amok, becalmed, in kiln
& puppets caught in latticework's charade
         by running in place winded
         among old bones dwined

Wuhan.

"waiting
the sound of raindrops
lingers
a scattering of stones"

--@poem_exe

(via)

finding strength in the sadness of forests (day 139)

(@TerrifyingVids)

"What is troubling here for the linguist is the profound disagreement that exists between the linguistic theory of the arbitrary character of the relation between word and thing, and the spontaneous belief of the speaking subject in a complete adequation between language and reality."

"before this winter wind
when i seemed to have
your hand"

--@poem_exe

"I build anti-gravity machines out of words."

the vocative of ego
a cabana in Baghdad

flight of the ideogram
fished out from a pile of stuff

a vision of remnant snow
these books that i cannot read

all thoughts smoke into jasmine
all things ravel into air

"Something cast in aluminum from a one-half
scale model of a freight shed."

"lunar eclipse
on my monitor
lunar eclipse
horse is coming"

--@poem_exe

Proxima now & then.

(pi-sliuces on tumblr)

hospital full (day 138)

(@CrookedCosmos)

Band of tomorrow thread.

"No perfume, no syntax, no flower can be definitively policed." --The Baudelaire Fractal

Brightside Crossing.

i may have sung
we shall overcome
maskless crowd among
in my spring
in my run to home

now we huddle strong
or we cluster mad
season worse to be young
still freedom t'ward
still that run to home

Terrace with a sea view. (via @MrValenberg)

"...my free will had received a mortal wound; and that another's mistake or misfortune might plunge innocent me into unmerited disaster..." @MobyDickatSea

(@TerrifyingVids)

another night without a comet (day 137)

(@TerrifyingVids)

The old solar system.

"I think that the evasive part of language is the materia medica of freedom." --The Baudelaire Fractal

Ooranye.

to return to the same place
that we left unwillingly
wanders now one Graywyvern
in a dark red fez

the ghosts of America
for aye mistake their qibla
fall prey to many a dream
bootless idiom

by the roadside lift a stone
if you call that a mission
unscrew the old stripped nozzle
that will barely turn

nothing makes a sound

Desertion.

"winter sunset
even unto death"

--@poem_exe

(@TerrifyingVids)

doppelranger {day 136)

"...a dam that is so massive in scale that it has actually slowed down the earth’s rotation."

"Ludwig had an obsession with donkeys in those days. He would always say 'Let us follow the mule, if only I were fast enough!' Waismann got so bored and annoyed that one day he mentioned to his girlfriend in Vienna that he was sick and tired of Ludwig's problem of mule-following. Waismann's girlfriend misheard and told Schlick and Camp about Wittgenstein's famous problem of rule-following. That was how the famous problem was born." --Plant and Baumann, "The Wittgenstein Archive," in: Philosophy Now #58 (Nov/Dec '06)

"...empty flat sizzle not to be tuned/ out..."

now · not yet murdered
by the hatred of the stars
Zamenhof
raggedest Homer · consigned to rishima

hogged streamer privy to Lord Moloch
goatherds merge into Judas
regathered smog walks

fried fugu
garnished with a flagon of Malmsey
these dagger theorems · at the limits of faith

now not yet murdered
intersection of sett & Sacla

"That night each and every one of them dreamt of that green light..."

" 'I respond to three questions,' stated the augur. 'For twenty terces I phrase the answer in clear and actionable language; for ten I use the language of cant, which occasionally admits of ambiguity; for five, I speak a parable which you must interpret as you will; and for one terce, I babble in an unknown tongue.' " --Tales of the Dying Earth

(via @JoyceCarolOates)

silence of the nothingberg (day 135)

(via via feuilleton)

"The notion that I was a Bourbon prince living on the island of Borneo superimposed itself on the actual circumstances of my life." (via feuilleton)

"words
from my deepest heart, i bow
the breath from their nostrils
in the cicada's screech"

--@poem_exe

Is that all?

journey the forgotten water

from the journal a lotus
the fraught hyaline taught us

staleness were the lesser odor

journey the forgotten water
only its stillness grows certain

the great oak is rotten
& our small ways murder

Ńdébé script thread.

"Life is the promenade of a somnambulist. When, and to what, will the wandering sleeper awaken?" --@KlarkashT

(via jarrod dimanuel in retro rockets on fb)

veiled prophet (day 134)

(via @TerrifyingVids)

"At last I gamely put one on—
Though, really, what’s the need?—
And like the masked Lone Ranger
Braved the wards at Walter Reed."

"The emotional synchrony of garments transmits discontinuously and by energetic means, thus the metaphysical appeal of fashion." --The Baudelaire Fractal

"...just like the Founders intended."

so afraid for so long
someone treads my grave
has undone so many
a flake of dried blood
in the time of reading

rending what you give
forest of glimmer moans
reach out so fragile
midnight Cabalatrab
dim thing the sigil

another night's comet
gossamer snags you

Luminous pommel.

"Contracts could have transformed into lookouts" --Robot X.

(ira gallen in retro rockets on fb)

death waiver (day 133)

(5hiny8laze2ombie on tumblr)

Cry of destiny.

"white winter solstice
comes back
moonlit"

--@poem_exe

Day after Tomorrow thread. Read the comments.

Feënreich
sett · pest ink
broken reck
with ichor whelm
ash weather
still attain tilth

Habitat 67.

"the wind of mount fuji
wings curve
polishing my teeth"

--@poem_exe

(@CrookedCosmos)

the three suns in rope (day 132)

(via larry folz on fb)

"It’s just simple maths."

"step by step
a child teaches their cat
draw me to them somehow"

--@poem_exe

Testing in Texas.

tango that is like a dirge
as the terse shadows dwindle
parables curdle

at the gray base of stonehenge

1150 free movies online.

How is it everything i read seems a new possible shape for the book i would write & cannot?

(5hiny8laze2ombie on tumblr)

vexations (day 131)

(st giorgio maggiore in venice by 360 visio on fb)

Roman ring mystery.

"The most depressing part about being an historian who studies plague (among other things) during a pandemic is watching people react to deadly disease outbreaks almost exactly the same way 16th & 17th century Europeans did." --@jotis13

"I have been thinking a lot about Dr. Lorna Breen."

impotent wizard rails
at the blossoming spirals

written-on paper
is all this hour may reap

indefinite end
but that there is a need

unedifying spectacle
i tread with a slow golf cleat

"...species that, separated by water, islanded, evolved differently..."

"[loading bodies into the repurposed hockey rink] i hope our statues are safe" --@Theophite

growth mindset (day 130)

(@jeffreyford8)

"We are more interested in tomorrow's language."

"the wind
and i
dance in embers"

--@poem_exe

European Modernism Meets Traditional Japanese Design. (thanx melanie!)

taste my coffee still
know i am not to die
perils in the world
taste my coffee still

chase the vast unnamed
catch it if i can
taste my coffee still
know i am not to die

"One thing that helps us understand this time is that we have a word for the disease. We call it hiya’stíní. We respect it because we understand it as a living being. We fear it and respect it. We acknowledge it and speak to it."

"Lying in wait for the so-called ‘other shoe’ to drop while not even knowing what that other shoe is—is there a word for this?" --@svenbirkerts

The Hu. (thread)

(pixelmill on tumblr)

free facers (day 129)

(@CrookedCosmosd)

"I told my editor at the Columbia Journalism Review that I was sorry but I couldn’t write the piece."

"winter's end
and then darkness
was farewell"

--@poem_exe

Red right hand.

Nemo will be calling me anon,
or some equation in my proper qabbalah;
how i use the waiting matters less
than pre-eclipse a priest with kris shrugs Aztec.

"Mary reports that one of his sisters, casting around for something to give Donald credit for, proposed his five bankruptcies."

"So does the eye of Heaven [e.g. the Sun] itself become an evil eye, when incapable or sordid hands are interposed between it and the things it looks upon to bless." --Hard Times (1854)

(@angelique1z)

nero decree (day 128)

(steve cruz on fb)

Nothing else matters.

"butterfly
far beyond what we can see
peace and quiet"

--@poem_exe

Texas covid anthology.

watch & ward · from eternal bivouac
dawn swells · in the swamp desert
turquoise the tide · our despairs attend

Levitating turntable.

"winter's end
and then darkness
was farewell"

--@poem_exe

giselian ghazal (day 127)

(via)

Extinct constellations.

"We’re in the vanguard of a nameless battle, a battle without arms or bloodshed or glory: we’re in the vanguard of waiting." --Marguerite Duras via @SvenBirkerts

Hybtwibt.

wascally imperilled LEASE
they keep trying to EXPEL

furtive poem handed over
from an ant to an APHID

i have drowned all my fossicks
in this sweven of a SEINE

levitating turntable
boggles the abused ELDER

pebbles tossed on those rockpiles
brain made out of kapok RILES

solastalgia's noisy cure
Gilead whose codes INURE

fog gathered around a sword
Tlön's advent much less LURID

it was a concept, like, that
i lived in with ERICA

gears imbibe this grade o' sand
oobleck splashed on gray SEDAN

lounging around in louche robes
Sheiak fills its Roche LOBES

the existentialist towel
& the spry spinning OWLET

twitter feed en--Beast--abler
fitter tweed on heath to BLARE

all my sesqixa jitou
crunch of a Frito EERIE

stern tiles spell out entourage
turnstiles stuck at passage STEEP

Organon novus.

"white winter solstice
walking with the meerkat
tangled hair"

--@poem_exe

"I began to realise that the poets I was studying had, for the most part, realised during their lifetimes that they were going to be forgotten."

(@jeffreyford8)

you are the news now (day 126)

(father nathan monk on fb)

"But words have their origin in our breathing body.."

"Where blackness bides unbroke, must devils brood?" --The Ring and the Book

Restricted topic.

The dove that pervades this antelucan hour
knows neither plague nor fear of plague's designs.
We who must needs endure them, we spent clowns
live hostage to the inflammable as the fire.
We've carried on, pretending all was well;
we've done what little we could, & buried grief
with too much else exorbitant: song for the deaf
dove-made answer & unforeseen reveal.

"Maybe we should listen again."

"My hands are empty and my satchel lank" --ibid

paynimrie (day 125)

(@CrookedCosmos)

"To look at QAnon is to see not just a conspiracy theory but the birth of a new religion."

"My fight is figurative, blows i' the air,
Brain-war with powers and principalities,
Spirit-bravado, no real fisticuffs!"

--The Ring and the Book

The secret life of Bobbie Gentry.

Cicalatide talion
till our relief leafmeal
carpet allspace. Cusp where
calico pard-guardless
the plague blossoms, bluegrass
blows with death a meth song.

"...that life where we treated the world as our oyster..."

"When whiz and thump went axe and mowed lay man" --ibid

(ericaofanderson on tumblr)

they call the wind mannaia (day 124)

(via)

"The pandemic had lifted up the rotting log of philosophy, and the philosophers were wriggling about in the sunlight."

"I know my grandsire had our tapestry
Marked with the motto, 'neath a certain shield.
Whereto his grandson presently will give gules
To vary azure." --The Ring and the Book XI. 1925-8

Kazoo/guitar cover.

culver in the new-mown GRASS
the black sun RELIT

skunk before the storm · hang together
or ALONE

dark rooms · alphabet swirling · time still on hold
images of the past SINGE

plague tower
a monument to those of sapphire & STEEL

blog trail comprised of nonsense verses
vaporwave screen GRABS

science fiction set in an earlier year
alien landing RURAL

since these thorns
& these dags ARISE

miracle of standing by myself
harsh secretions BASTE

rain dotting the luminous turquoise
interlude of Sxwaixwe SLEEP

Desecration Rag over the mild thunder
rage to SPARE

dreads ev'ry least contact with bureaucracy
this unapt PUPAL

with "Thor is angry, boom boom!"
domesticated APHID

new statues
to the old gods RAISE

by a volcano wind died Pliny
the ELDER

which airt of the subfusc sky
came those brusque free-facers in vain the eye COMBS

enigma
of Sator Arepo Tenet OPERA

Rotas now is solved
my protests little MERIT

never any fealty else but
VanaBRIDE

Graywyvern's frazzled & sore,
yet by frith SATED

Flight over Korolev.

"The boundary whereon I break to mist" --ibid

(via)

ulysses at the mast (day 123)

(ruth marten via feuilleton)

"Turn, and with double zest go dredge for whelks" --The Ring and the Book

"I’ve got a more specific reading of post-Fordist or contemporary zaniness, which is that it is an aesthetic explicitly about the politically ambiguous convergence of cultural and occupational performance, or playing and laboring, under what Luc Boltanski and Eve Chiapello call the new 'connexionist' spirit of capitalism."

facing
a dying nation
caught in Cheetoh's charade
facing
our own dark pain
with flesh of calcspar
facing
a dying nation

The cinema has explored the northern regions of impersonal stylization; it should now discover the southern regions of personal lyricism; it should have its prophets."

"The impatient anti-masque treads close on kibe" --ibid

(fizzy-izzys-circus on tumblr)

a cotlight in york (day 122)

(pic by lanny quarles on fb)

Parade of one hundred demons.

"...where light
Lay fitful in a tenebrific time?" --The Ring and the Book

"Even the hum may fade in the fire."

I had not thought to write a poem on Eirik
when i set out upon this sea of woe,
when i embarked upon this tour of Earth.

Of all the irritants to spark a pearl
many a snag's found mention in my book.
I had not thought to write a poem on Eirik.

Hazard & fumble serve as Vision's salt.
We translate as we may; i had wings to give
when i embarked upon this tour of Earth.

I wrought with gold & iridescent names
for ev'ry passing whisper out of Ghayb;
i had not thought to write a poem on Eirik.

Never we choose the contrails we create
though spurred as i by shadowy throngs & glare
when i embarked upon this tour of Earth.

Some night bird batters the panes. I direct my heart
where lions drowse among the baobabs.
I had not thought to write a poem on Eirik
when i embarked upon this tour of Earth.

Night parade.

"...science fiction became the man who ate the world: first by force in Hiroshima and eventually through the creepy extrusion of magic and madness into every aspect of common life until it was impossible to disentangle the two." --Barry N Malzberg (2018)

(via lofishing on tumblr)

bomb without consequence (day 121)

(pixel8or on tumblr)

"He already had one foot in the winter of heaven. He was going to be whisked up."

--Jean Genet (via @LauraKerrArt)

Conspicuous erudition.

Elba regnant
let the sun shine in

ask squat pity
chinequest · pay quit's task

Alcor to Mizar

Unrest continues in former colony.

"Some old malicious tower, some obscene tomb" --The Ring and the Book

(via)

"...1st celestial body to have the form of its orbit changed by humanity..."

"He’s pointing at you with a glass of milk
as if he’s trying to tell you that there is
some sort of shining star now buried deep inside you and he has to
dig it out with a knife."

--@sikenpoems

(via @PaulMSmithPhoto)

the art of fooling robots (day 120)

(via)

When one has lived a long time alone.

"...nor find sport/ In torch-light treachery or the luring owl" --The Ring and the Book

Golf Angst Entourage.

latticework whose leftover shapes have FADED
broken tools in the strange AGORA

sparks falling
clyte whiffs of DOVER

lemmingtide & tearing down
what took so long to ERECT

inchmeal leap
out of the swirling mists something crazy DARTS

shivers the bulwark
diary of a plunder year CIRCA

retracing the storms
where i got my IDEAS

one has paravent & ombrifuge
but it is the thought from far away that RENDS

crunchy step
broken glass from hasty CADGE

so ready for it to be over
all but the ASSET

was this necessary · that we would be taught
build on SILTS

lying cerulean
ultrageester, IDAHO

what justice
hovers in the pinprick eye like a LASER

hagoday by ragged fists battered
there that isn't THERE

aive quta not by chance
adventuring among the root SORES

We will create a new history, a new aesthetic, and a new religion—even that.

"Now anarchy is only tact when it works badly. Tact is only anarchy when it works well." --G K Chesterton

The stars continue to move in their regular courses, the seasons come and go as before.

the other bulgarian (day 119)

(capitoline hill in rome via 360 visio on fb)

Outside the gates of Eden.

"With winter in my soul beyond the world's" --The Ring and the Book

"...The glass map of our country..."

the frith niche
traced by nesh chine
five moons of
seventh planet

dream defer
vulture re-fed
five moons of
seventh planet

new brooms sweep
where Herschel weeps
five moons of
seventh planet

Lacaille 9352 exoplanets. More.

"the snow plough
my summer sandal
all mine"

--@poem_exe

(@archillect)