hiatus (day 199)

Twitter.

Tumblr.

Webpage.

Deviant Art.

a voyage to Aldebaran (day 198)

(contac via pumpkincrypt on tumblr)

Honorarium.

"this morning
the emu escapes
the fan"

--@poem_exe

The importance of being on Twitter.

Naming the color of the sky
at just this hour, gray or lilac or rose,
& turns to nothing special in an hour:
"Exodus theme" by Edith Piaf. Frore
only by contrast, walk from fence to alley.
The war's not lost; this loss is still so early.
Our plight which we could not imagine, gets
exacting more as day by day it blurts
impossible news; borne on our crystal ship
Atlantean sails have filled with outward thrust
irresistible & winedark
naming the color of the sky.

Art Deco Egyptian Revival.

When all reality has become surreal, remembering when it wasn't surreal will still be surreal.

saltations in a cummerbund (day 197)

(lofishing)

New color essays.

"a hazy day
an unmarked grave
no troubles at all"

--@poem_exe

"Sophi tallies how much of an article is read, how many times it is shared and commented on, and most importantly, whether it being behind a paywall spurs anyone to buy a subscription."

Giselian Gambit
eau de Nil
dusk on the secventh planet

No! We talk lawsuit
in the marble halls
of insomnia

in the marble halls
of murder hornets
a superior flower

blue years and unopened medicines

"...black for the grief of a prisoner, yellow for the fear you must be feeling deep down..."

"...it is tempting to agree with Elgin, who argued that Láadan failed because women were reluctant to speak a language that forced them to parse their feelings so thoroughly."

"sleepless night
one crow
leading to nowhere"

--@poem_exe

"... the curator Jason Bailey honors Conway’s work with an online exhibit that features four international artists’ approaches to the Game."

(mrtsk)

plicatile mapsco (day 196)

(via)

"You can embody a curse without being able to articulate it." --Bellefleur

Totally under control.

"While English speakers say CHEESE when a photograph is taken, French speakers say MARMOSET (‘ouistiti’)." @HaggardHawks

On Witness and Repair.

Sometimes there's nothing that i want
a stillness on the sun-filled air
to ply with gems the webinar
a house without the house's taint

sometimes i only sit & stare
a ghost bemused for how to haunt
this track comprised of scattered spraint
goes yearning-quelled & miles too far

I am a nesting doll for griefs.

(via)

disease of the as-if 6. (day 195)

(lanny quarles on fb)

"flung onto a sinking boat, splash the kapok’s bark
through rot & iron of a city trying to forget"

"Stranger, where goest thou, in the sad raiment of a pilgrim, with shattered sandals retaining the dust and mire of so many devious ways? With thy brows that alien suns have darkened, and thy hair made white from the cold rime of alien moons?" --@KlarkashT

Access Mars.

we are the well ones
with well kept lawns
cocooned from fuss
& from desperate loss
we are the well ones

we keep good watch
we know so much

castles, castles
with draw bridges up
we are the ones
who will call a cop

"Here’s why I have hoped with my head high and my eyes focused ahead."

"the hurricane naming system may need to go alphanumeric" --@joshtpm

Panpsychism Proved.

(lofishing on tumblr)

thyphallic cheese grater (day 194)

(via)

Blade Runner reality--the final cut.

"Even thus, amid the waste of all fair things that were,
Of high marmoreal dreams immense and overthrown,
I wait forever, and about my face is blown
The sand of crumbling cenotaph and sepulcher."

--@KlarkashT

The serpent calls.

the angel i contend with
is not so easily grasped
a parable in shadow
crisp-edged Boreas

Fez belgards irregardless
a job for topology
rather than zyxt alembic
or angst zymurgy

the riddle of Ariel,
bane of Carcosa
in the same maroon-hogan

"...Omulu has the great power to cause an epidemic, but at the same time to cure any illness."

"Abroad in armes, at home in studious kind
Who seekes with painfull toile, shall honor soonest find.

In woods, in waues, in warres she wonts to dwell,
And will be found with perill and with paine;
Ne can the man, that moulds in idle cell,
Vnto her happie mansion attain;
Before her gate high God did Sweat ordaine,
And wakefull watches euer to abide:
But easie is the way, and passage plaine
To pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide,
And day and night her dores to all stand open wide."

--The Faire Queene, II.3

"So in this great disaster of our birth
We can be happy, and forget our doom."

(student painting, via tom murphy on fb)

faceless doll (day 193)

(via)

The marionette has died in a duel.

"Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom of the sea? Shall we be towed by him to the infernal world?" --@MobyDickAtSea

Wayment for our old lifestyle.

impossible keeping
piling up shadows for

the shadow
shortage

Mornings in the deserted plaza.

"Endeuoring my dreadded name to raise
Aboue the Moone..."

--The Faerie Queene, II, 3.

"The purpose of the Matai is to speak for the village, for their people."

(mrtsk on tumblr)

ballad of BD +4° 4048 (day 192)

(mr-f34r on tumblr)

"There’s enough time."

"lightning
we stroll along the roof of hell
moonlit night"

--@poem_exe

Ryugu Trek.

yellowed rooms & dim
shuffle among
to priefcraft cling
purdah wildly from

murder in the street
with smiley face
nor simply cease
by tendency innate

tempest-gusted worm
shall try our frith
O rose-reft earth
yellowed rooms & dim

"Refusal, which is only sometimes a kind of poetry, does not have to be limited to poetry, and turning the world upside down, which is often a kind of poetry, doesn’t have to be limited to words."

"autumn wind
the sound of a rat
clatter of the bridge"

--@poem_exe

"He told her that she was an exception, but she refused the role of the exceptional woman, for which I've always admired her."

(dark-rob on tumblr)

2021 calendar (day 191)

Style and grace and a boot to the face.

"a field covered with thorns
deserted and still"

--@poem_exe

"Southern Gothic is not simply a literary style, but the very real conflict of belonging but simultaneously suffering intense alienation and isolation. It persists in the crushed dreams, economic ruination, and desperation to escape that has prematurely aged entire generations."

depauperate jobvista
pool skirt pacing derby darg
hold your head up wooden nowl
gazette of a velvet crush

skyfall cowan colony
unfurls plan for turtle stack
might could reach slackful target
unless there is desert creep

"Images from California and Oregon are circulating around the internet, bright fruit punch-colored skies. With some pride, we compare ourselves to characters from Blade Runner and Mad Max. We are in such awe of our new world."

"Jailers love to read novels, and more than any other men express a need for literature." --Fourth Prose

The GPS is useless.

clownwhite curtain torn (day 190)

The Tenant returns.

"sleepless night
the path
sleepless night
now spring arrives"

--@poem_exe

The next to last hint.

not visible darkmans
this noon
& route of jewels
but losing ev'ry way
how not we reach

a mere matter of weeks
& eke more of the same
yet doubtful withal
as if any other
day were ours to be summon'd to

Modernism's Other Work.

"The Testaments of Carnamagos, in its covers of shagreen with hasps of human bone, lay open at the very page which had frightened him so unreasonably with its eldritch intimations." --@KlarkashT

Una luz torcida.

unstructured jacket (day 189)

(via miekal and on fb)

Chuang Tzu in Esperanto.

"the tree will be cut
the north pole
to the moon"

--@poem_exe

Scattered Tongues webring.

1.
night Venice · a labyrinth of echoes
still wander · still receive transmissions

bradyconlang
angstrom of hope

axis of imbecility

2.
nineteen years sated
neither our story-hunger
nor our taste for blood

you could hardly tell by the
gray grain of these weathered boards

3.
soot is still raining
nineteen numbing years later
this forever war
this descent into madness
keeps driving on a flat tire

4.
the ruined sculpture
got fished out of the rubble
not so much our rights

how many opium crops
in the high thin azure air

5.
another country
it was, & another story
they played the tape back
on innocent monitors
our second day on the job

6.
not the usual lies
there had to be special lies
dynamite inside
switched planes & subtle secrets
an underground faith could pledge

7.
not that men angry
at what had been done to them
& in their country

the sky reddens & darkens
& i say this to no one

8.
trudging through thick grass
it makes a whispery crunch
carefully i wipe
each groc'ry item removed
from its one-use plastic bag

"Through levity to levitation..."

"A damnation of flimsy walls." --Brown & Merwin's Mandelstam, 272.

"In literary criticism it is possible to define literary genres and predict from them. But in analysis it will be found that only hack works conform to the genre. Powerful works are sui generis..."

(diana rigg in on her majesty's secret service via gordon hilgers on fb)

hygiene theater (day 188)

The art of Adam McLean.

"Everywhere there was a brooding, palpable Power for which he could find no visual image: a Power that exhaled a miasmal slumber. In those dreams...he somehow identified himself with the eyeless people; he lived and moved as they, in profound caverns, on nighted roads." --@KlarkashT

"...if a lie be believed only for an hour, it hath done its work..."

coming to the window
not daylight
but crimson shroudlight

it's a gender reveal party

nil treague
with the earth
even to save ourselves

it's a gender reveal party
destruction being our love

"During production, much of the South Beach area in which the show was set was blighted by dilapidated buildings, homeless people and crime; in order to achieve the shots and scenes they needed, the production team would paint over graffiti and fix up decaying structures."

"How tired I am of stories, how tired I am of phrases that come down beautifully with all their feet on the ground... I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on the pavement."

--V.Woolf, The Waves via @crossmansusanna

Killtime.

(via)

landed latte (day 187)

(dualvoidanima on tumblr)

I mimic Eva.

"That the moon says, how little do/ we hear." --The Crystal Text

Ode to Billy Joel.

those we have who have gone
give us allies the more
guides the more
as we move t'ward Pulgasari
aureoles of chance
Serpo can tan corpse thereat
so dark the waves

snuff tape
inverting lens

I see dead octopi.

"It is new to me for a nightmare to lead to a lobster. It is commonly the other way." --The Man Who was Thursday

Foreverhome.

(via)

step twice in the same chopsticks (day 186)

(@archillect)

"Now it almost disappears behind multi-million-dollar vacation homes..."

"What if in euery other starre vnseen
Of other worldes he happily should heare?"

--The Faerie Queene, II.1

Thackerayana.

ghost chisel
threading the dark maze

corroded nozzle
ghost chisel

on the wings of an ouzel
mark days

ghost chisel
threading the dark maze

"Every creature is a world of its own."

"I trope remote, yet rats are fed." --Anthony Etherin

Not a glitch.

(kenze wee hon ming via it8bit on tumblr)

the dove, the crow, the squirrel (day 185)

(lofishing)

"When Eastman died of heart failure, alone, in Millard Fillmore hospital in Buffalo, New York, on 28 May 1990, aged just 49, his work disappeared with him."

"Certainly Poetry is a dress; but above all, it is a substance." --López Velarde

The Story Of Bandes Dessinées.

Plano glebe
bark and mortar
aggry chip
pelts ebon beach
ibis bails
gray skills warg snide

Tattered Curtains.

"it's a wicked world in all meridians" --@MobyDickAtSea

Masters of Atlantis on audio.

(via via feuilleton)

bird antonyms irk (day 184)

(via xoverit on tumblr)

Улучшенный жизнь by AUT2M.

"[Saturn:] A circus tent planet, an impossibilty, a clown that grinned down on them as they scrabbled around the towers that the Others had left." --Ben Bova, As on a Darkling Plain (1972)

Hamlet's Mill.

between chase & chess
clown town when the twinkling stops
bradykinin storm

the drab machine under me
more skittish than a young horse

Decrypting Dystopia.

"Now are we come vnto my natiue soyle,
And to the place where all our perils dwell..."

--The Faerie Queene, I.11

Grinchus on Lulu.

(@archillect)

Betelgeuse dimming (day 183)

Four quarts & the truth.

Once i was camping with a group of people in Baja. They had just dug a deep ditch to use for a latrine, & during the night several wild gerbils had fallen into it. I borrowed a blanket & spent all morning on my stomach, swinging the blanket into the ditch to catch each gerbil one by one, swoop it up & let it go on the level ground.

Masking up, facing off.

darklevin fez-wrixle
Plutopause so damn smooth
wraith hatch relapse withal
not clever selkie shunt

gallows ambrosial lift
day sad with bafflement
stones left from echo hunt
the stone that rode along

Ghost cruise.

"sleepless night
the path
sleepless night
now spring arrives"

--@poem_exe

The Carrington Event.

the year of growing my hair (day 182)

(via)

When the poet disappears 1, 2, 3.

Amiably peopled.

"I should have been inured to climatic changes; but again felt I had moved out of ordinary life into an area of total strangeness. All this was real, it was really happening, but with a quality of the unreal; it was reality happening in quite a different way." - Anna Kavan, Ice via @David_Farrier

Driving past Stonehenge.

the rain & the darkness
for all the plagued & lost
river of instagram
river of mostly don't-know

yellow & red can
the darkness & the rain

the gravely courteous assassin

The pitchforks are coming.

"There were strange and disastrous portents in the...skies: flame-bearded meteors had been seen to fall...a comet far in the south had swept the stars with its luminous bosom for a few nights, and had then faded, leaving among men the prophecy of bale and pestilence to come." --@KlarkashT

(via)

an old sheet of notebook paper (day 181)

(@svenbirkerts)

"...in the life-weft, the snarl of interweaving, the ineluctable."

"harvest gift
in the tennis courts
a pelican's glide"

--@poem_exe

Meerkat plays a prank on a capybara!

that kind of moment
but not one
that kind of light

sequel to too few sorrows
keypunch machine chatter
spaces without

QBVII, Cubi VII, Queen's
Bishop 7
bulgunnyakh

sunday stillness
tide of the unreal

"...alternately brilliant and sloppy, emotionally resonant at one moment and hollow the next."

"I did not make the world, and I did not make it paradoxical." --Chesterton

"I, too, love a funeral."

(fuzzyghost on tumblr)

scrolling down Government Street (day 180)

(via)

"Shadowy noisome cobwebs draped themselves on all my thoughts, and presences of unlineamented fear...crouched in the half-lit corners of my mind but would never fully declare themselves. An invisible gulf, bottomless as Malebolge, seemed to yawn before me wherever I went." --@KlarkashT

"The taste of destiny has changed."

go on despite the wound
the injury
the pentacle-imprisonment
it is all you have

the time of day of the cam'ra,
whoever was walking
in the cam'ra's view

if all of Twitter fell into the ocean

blacken their patterns
for all the plagued & lost

Venice after people

Bruce Sterling on Gulf Futurism.

"Fifty professors imagine a labyrinth into existence." --@MagicRealismBot

In this together.

(via)

dead as a sun (day 179)

(hdesigns333 on tumblr)

Night gaunts & scuba breath.

"INCLUSION (which features only the letters in its title)

Inclusion is sonic.

Iconic illusions
soon lull us
in solo collusion.

Unconscious collisions
coin conscious conclusions,
so coil in
innocuous noons…."

--@AnthonyEtherin

AI jukebox.

"Word of the Day: PLICATILE (adj.) able to be folded" --@HaggardHawks

Rokkudaun basilisk.

Tara casts a CARAT
by mirror ALIBI,
many ices' RIGOR

the song we rise ABOVE
smacks of burning TIRES
next book of OCTET

gazes through keyhole CRANE
at rare roadkill TAPAS
thus we worse ENACT

economical TESTS
in the stunned brillig OVATE
blackshirts droll but VAPID

canyonlands Mars-APING
with that rutilant TINGE
& a shiv barely EDGED

"Just because MY blog is dead, and MOST blogs are dead, that doesn’t mean ALL blogs are dead."

"Dyfractency, n. the state of being twice broken" --@fantasticvocab

In the dusk of the dawn.

(mrtsk on tumblr)

the wind around the tower (day 178)

(via)

"Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment" --The Faerie Queene, I, 8.

Not just my face...

"Whom these sad eyes saw nigh vnto deaths dore" --ibid

"After all, it is the Venetians themselves, and their embrace of trade and the exotic, who gave us the word 'quarantine' in the first place."

the ghosts want this thing here
but i
want it over there
in the Pluto hour
all things are clear
& hellish anguish
that presumption of cause
that unseeing eye

we need
no other worry
fresh-minted shiny & new

"This footage was photographed at a point on the Colorado River known as Crossing of the Fathers."

"He could not tell: ne euer other answere made" --ibid

(via)

with Mao on the Long March (day 177)

(yorksnapshots on tumblr)

Strange Attractor.

"It was one of those sunless summer days that are infinitely more depressing than the bleakest winter; days when the whole atmosphere feels stale, and the world seems like a dustbin full of old battered tins of fish scales and decayed cabbage stalks..." --@AnnaKavan, "An Unpleasant Reminder"

Where to get 2814's albums Birth of a New Day & Rain Temple.

Deleted Tweet.

the close oppressive tide
of vacancy has won
thunderous beachhead gold
in each tipped heart

Hanuman
fumbles in the barzakh castle

we are clown & guest
but never perfect Carcosa

Flehmen Response.

"And hellish anguish did his soule assaile" --The Faerie Queene, I.9

Vivaldi sonnets.

(recaption via xf4int on tumblr)

unsentinel (day 176)

(via)

"there yet lurks an elusive something in the innermost idea of this hue" --@MobyDickAtSea

"... it doesn’t really have room to hold 100,000 sex slaves..."

"There are days when all the beauty of the world is dim and strange; when the sunlight about me seems to fall on a land remoter than the poles of the moon." --@KlarktashT

Post-AI Go. (thread)

some late last cicada
acolyte

of Westgate

Betelgeuse explained.

"the cricket
on foot...
in the autumn twilight"

--@poem_exe

Word Avalanche.

(lesbianboy-art on tumblr)

dragon corban (day 175)

(via)

"Tales of the tall bird are becoming true Texas legends."

"the train was coming
abandoned
watching over me"

--@poem_exe

Solarpunk with thorough history.

chasing fictive closure
gamelike garmonbozia

Styxgloaming · so seldom reached
now rain gives · hurricane fringe
don't know yet · gray depths plummet
changesame path · eke asteroids

in the claws of the roc
through a promenade
of tornados
bright outside our drawn drapes

this is not the realm
of arbitrary transformations

cars
the same as ever
the war against the bees
falls out of the news

i siphon gas
with a well-aimed riddle

Typefaces of the Occult Revival.

"2019 called. It wants its woefully optimistic vision of a dystopian future back." --@NeinQuarterly

"...but the sea itself has no character just this horrible thirst..."

(xpoentialdesign on tumblr)