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)

broccoli seldom disappoints (day 170)

(@archillect)

Captain Jacob's Planet.

" '...But this Ronald Firbank I can't take to at all. Valmouth! Was there ever a novel more coarse? I assure you I hadn't gone very far when I had to put it down.'

'It's out,' Mrs Bedley suavely said, 'as well,' she added, 'as the rest of them.'

'I once met him,' Miss Hopkins said, dilating slightly the retinae of her eyes. 'He told me writing books was by no means easy!' "

--The Flower Beneath the Foot

Modus Vivendi.

heyoka PARSER
virtual AVENUE

many will dispute
my indiscreet REPORT

poet of dreamworlds
unless-restrained SNORER

all will oneday rue
occulted EUREKA

mastbound Graywyvern
odyssey RETRAL

Fiery Pollen.

"the wind
lights
the train left..."

--@poem_exe

But what are the contemporary plot lines from the first two decades of the 21st century that no longer work?

(craig goch dam in wales, via go stargazing, via tim wetherell on fb)

the tribe that was mad for games (day 167)

Zone of Irreversible Strain.

"there is no folly of the beasts of the earth which is not infinitely outdone by the madness of men" --@MobyDickAtSea

Bury me in a Free Land.

My ears do no tartan odor SEAMY
cacerolazo EERIE
in the defunct ARENA
where i'm a zero MINER

for long-ago-lost threads these scissors YEARN
(sounds of snipping ABATE)
ev'rything readworthy BOXED
derision for the AXING

all-provided, strangely TENSE
this gig impalpably EDGED

The Jetty.

"Ah dearest dame (quoth he) how might I see
The thing, that might not be, and yet was donne?"

--The Faerie Queene

"It made me realize, as did the Edith Piaf record in Jean Eustache’s The Mother and the Whore, that the single most important aesthetic effect was the ability to slow down time. I have spent my entire life attempting to arrive at such moments with words."

(via)

centibillionaire club (day 164)

(via thrilling-tales.webomator.com)

Vaihinger.

"my autumn is just this
a woman sits alone
armadillo"

--@poem_exe

Jakobson.

1.
slow poisoning · the livelong day
jimplecute obit · black milkshake
of plague stork flight · morning coolness
slow fizzle · finalize timesheet

2.
mask breath
nine named storms
the wrong vaccine

the dead plant we keep
a Google Street View leap

of plague stork flight
TARCI PULCE
on Vulture Peak

mask breath
nine named storms

toluol odyssey
losing my keys
on Vulture Peak

on Dead Horse Point
hadu zalas

la polvo
di steli
Cor Caroli

the dead plant we keep
nine named storms

3.
munch my breakfast KARST
in a strange domain ALONE
mouth frothing ROYAL

the trail of a SNAIL
hierodules on the TELLY

4.
hellmouth by the pool
having migrated over
the weathered planking
ghorbat widdershins lost count
of the laps at your peril

5.
stark HEIST
ahead, ABELE
in clusters--just RELAX--
around us as the teasing rays SLANT
of TEXTS

6.
surge SPLAT
stray rice cake PIECE
this afternoon's LEVER
in the rain a draw with ACERS
still TERSE

7.
blue sky
upholding all
more silver than angel
how can i lodge among figments
wind horse

8.
When i upon so many rocks am dashed
this catnip ace of celadon
& crispy world of bloating Mira
falls into a slough of its own coinage.

Ampollosity where wit were needed,
blue sky over a Gothic curse:
who could imagine words anele
the wounds of shieldless aeons' onslaught lunar?

Virus-whispered qibla
carried on the wings of silent breath,
alphabet invented by a grebe
& good for riddles only.

Madder Isle.

"It troubled the mind with a slow, insidious horror, it assailed the senses with an emanating stupor, an effluence as of primal worlds before the creation of light, where life might teem and raven slothfully in the blind ooze." --@KlarkashT

(@BoschBot)

the man that loved bruckner (day 155)

(lanny quarles on fb)

"You really can’t understand till you see it...and that’s the problem. Nobody is seeing it"

"Ever I am haunted by an eerie notion, that the Beast comes nightly to earth from the red comet which passes like a fiery wain above Averoigne; and by day it returns to the comet, having eaten its fill of that provender for which it seeks." --@KlarkashT

Certain myths.

these murderous GAMES
pry APART

Aklo chase · ash cloak burning at the plunge brink
from micro thwart to MACRO

one iota of the tallow lamp
these bridges soon become spurned ERROR

wingbeat overheard
of plague STORK

some of us · tried to · reason
O alien passerby, these pancaking COSTS

one starts by walking out to check mail
Dave Brubeck OCTET

walk away Rene Magritte
fremd STOMA

these murderous games & for what? mere power
Cracker Jack to TEMPT

on a high & windy hill
plasma STATE

hajj without the crowds · fourth Bartok string quartet
now the dogs of war with kiteslipt BASTE

games pry apart my eyelids
my brass TIARA

on a high
& lonely hill where fardels INFER

"zzee-at" goes the goldeneye during brillig
"zzee-at" & my panoply's AFIRE

petrification of flesh
episode RERAN

Graywyvern
estivates in the Cthulhucene ARENA

Godmothers of horror.

"The only way to turn something that really happened into something that happens on paper is to attack it in the beginning the way a puppy attacks an old shoe." --Shirley Jackson

(@archillect)

operation diligent valor (day 148)

(michael straw-hughes via melody doss on fb)

This sculpture at CIA headquarters holds one of the world's most famous unsolved mysteries.

"Pause and remain, I pray, and tell me who thou art, who comest thus to the accursed solitude wherein I die." --@KlarkashT

A sheaf gleaned in French fields.

the parables of scroogeCHESS
sterve the HUNCH

as yet undelivered by those promises of
the goatfoot ENVOY

what our most fervent-held delusions
lack is SCOPE

Graywyvern in the Witch House
Sacla no SHYER

"What do you intend to do when you make a fist and ice appears in your fist?"

"low winter sun
deep in the mist
hungry still"

--@poem_exe

(via hampton burwick on fb)

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)

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)

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.

all kinds of rain (day 117)

(pic by hannes bok via dave matsuoka in retro rockets on fb)

Books Borges never wrote.

"So liver fizz, law flit and Latin fly" --The Ring and the Book

Literary silence in the time of pandemic.

one hand the other WASHES
to downfall ATTUNE

ricochet
in the ether's Augean STABLE

so we all will make it · feels like i may not
palette of HUBCAP

learn bird cries
as our unmasked fates ENLACE

burning up in his dark gray shirt Graywyvern
new stain from the ceiling darkly SEEPED

Massive jellyfish sprite.

"I have discovered a planet. Something lies there, intensely wishing for the past. An actuary could pet cats there." --@I_Find_Planets

(via)

how the water came to a boil (day 107)

(@svenbirkerts)

The mystery of Por-Bajin. (thread)

"A brisk priest who is versed in Ovid's art" --The Ring and the Book

Fast car.

mountweasel ATLAS
in zoönotic TRICE
to shireware LIKEN

in rain playing ACERS
in the darkness SENSE
something heavy's TRAMP

despair's disk RIPER
fall of a green APPLE
icy catnap MELTS

targeted like rogue PRESS
from exomoons WEANS
remake stark sloth EQUAL

trauro AUDIO
Count Anteoni's NAILS
in martini SLOSH

On Comet 67P.

"23 February, 1929
I am glad you survived the wolves, though it would have been a romantic death for you and might have suggested a second volume to O-----o
Virginia"

--vitavirginiabot

(via in search of pagan hollywood on fb)

plastic rain (day 106)

(lanny quarles on fb)

Bright nostalgia.

"In slush and sand, a show to crawlers vile
Reared of the low-tide and aright therein."

--The Ring and the Book

The habitability of Proxima b.

leverets UPCAST
calling rescue PRODEO

city-sized icebergs haunt our swevens
or COMETS

& the statues of confederates topple
let us raise new ones to the ADEPTS

a feral cat with kittens
our pool may SETTLE

one sees perforated lungs on the midden
lightly TOSSED

The City.

"trees icy black and wet
a hell
of empty boats"

--@poem_exe

(luxor via 360 visio on fb)

bassoonfluencer (day 98)

(sean parker via michael puttonen on fb)

Mannaia.

"The steel vests deflect even these keen edges..." --Christian Bok

Oldthinkers unbellyfeel woke.

the cerulean, sounds, one BRAVES;
smrt REGENT

i stretch as i walk around the pool
fain of AGENCY

plenty of time to catalog my trespass'
cis- & otherwise, most not VENIAL

chipping at this whist
would ENCASE

Graywyvern plunges into the great unknown
of a day without hair STYLES

Death of iron.

"Your boasted still's full strain and strength: not so!" --The Ring and the Book

(lanny quarles on fb)

monument to the unnecessary deaths (day 97)

(pinkerton finklerrybert in retro rockets on fb)

Ella Wheeler Wilcox weighs in.

"I am quite confident that even as the oceans boil, and the hurricanes beat violently against our once safe shores, and the air sweats with the heat of impending doom, and our fists protest the denial of climate justice, that there is a path to take that has nothing to do with victory or defeat: a place we do not yet know the coordinates to; a question we do not yet know how to ask. The point of the departed arrow is not merely to pierce the bullseye and carry the trophy: the point of the arrow is to sing the wind and remake the world in the brevity of flight. There are things we must do, sayings we must say, thoughts we must think, that look nothing like the images of success that have so thoroughly possessed our visions of justice. May this new decade be remembered as the decade of the strange path, of the third way, of the broken binary, of the traversal disruption, the kairotic moment, the posthuman movement for emancipation, the gift of disorientation that opened up new places of power, and of slow limbs. May this decade bring more than just solutions, more than just a future - may it bring words we don't know yet, and temporalities we have not yet inhabited. May we be slower than speed could calculate, and swifter than the pull of the gravity of words can incarcerate. And may we be visited so thoroughly, and met in wild places so overwhelmingly, that we are left undone. Ready for composting. Ready for the impossible.
     Welcome to the decade of the fugitive."

--bayo akomolafe via lidia yuknavitch via rebecca solnit on fb)

Silphium.

boiled in the nest of the STARE
govern by TELEX

brillig stroll
if the devil ever needed ALIBI

being erased slowly, then quickly
is the sound of the REBUS

the machine needs you
to prove no better world can EXIST

Einstein on racism.

"chilly wind
she holds up one hand
an old poem"

--@poem_exe

(audiovisual-dept via coolcolortheme via lofiwave on tumblr)

from the ostrich farm (day 91)

(keddist seliassie via lamont el in moorish orthodox church of america on facebook)

O Memnon meme.

It was only a few years ago (2015) that i got around to reading The Recognitions. (Not with the help of the Gaddis Drinking Club.) And i only later heard about Franzen's attack i suppose. But i'm adding this note now, in order to blog the riposte by Ben Marcus. It makes me want to find my copy of The Age of Wire and String...

The alluvial valley of the lower Mississippi River.

scarecrow PREEN
at the crowd control RETRO

when bullying becomes an ETHOS
Rushmore nogs ERODE

neighbors almost never seen · online NOSEY
cannibal PUTTI

rough beast Bethlehem UNWED
wind spinners on the perfect lawn TWIRL

reports from the battlefront twitterly TERSE
thumb IDLED

barcode by night switches what it MEANT
computer back: just "ERROR"

tear gas AROMA
from the days when i thought myself a NOMAD

mask-mask TRADE
but it's our life that is CHEAP

cactus that's HARDY
rose that has died · ev'ryone shot in ERROR

& not in error · kappas ADORE
these moth PYRES

Poems from the edge of extinction.

"now we are leaving
sweet clover
leading to nowhere"

--@poem_exe

(via)

cat & dove (day 89)

(via @abandonedameric)

"The task is not to hope that some kind of divine grace turns a one-time stimulus check into socialism, but to act toward that transformation."

"In the orchard of the bones." --Finnegans Wake

Providence Express.

rash HARPS
spar with AGILE
rodents · pluck each RIVET
that holds our grimaces at PLEAT
deep SETTS

"In that sense, engineers are a lot like poets: You acquire the tropes and techniques of your literary or engineering tradition, and then you innovate and combine them into new poems or machines."

"now we are leaving
sweet clover
leading to nowhere"

--@poem_exe

(via)

don't advance, night of pyongyang (day 87)

"Oh, now I know the night, and comprehend the sorceries of the moon, and all the dark persuadings that have their birth in storms and winds." --Pierre

"Like Madame Bovary blasted by lightning,."

sand poured by LAMAS
midst of a riot ALERT
grief off the METER

this sweltering ARENA
masks hung on the fourfold STRAP

Chagatay.

"at the age old pond
edge of the maelstrom"

--@poem_exe

Eyeball worlds. More.

(@CanberraDSN)

zany actual meal (day 86)

(via)

"And all dead years draw thither,
And all disastrous things"

--Swinburne, "The Garden of Proserpine"

"One very droll piece has the poet giving Eugenio Montale a raft of misinformation about America."

standing on a gray tank in GDANSK
not today i would DELETE

glamours of the ever-unattainable
vie with lost ALLURE

Wittenberg
sacked in each broken NEURON

ywldwzquixotl gleams like distant
mention of a STROKE

my sense of no future a banderilla
but KEENER

"Ligotti’s own persona is one of being a depressive, anhedonic recluse, managing a bipolar disorder by silence, cunning and exile (and prescribed pharmaceuticals) amidst the wreckage of the American industrial empire, out there in the apocalyptic ruins of Detroit."

"It is not enough to cure the plague: we must learn to weep for it. " --Unamuno

"Though Detroit is never explicitly mentioned as the setting for pieces like 'My Work is Not Yet Done,”'it’s hard to mistake the setting for anyplace other than Detroit."

(@archillect)

zone of irreversible strain (day 82)

(via)

"In Salamanca 100 years ago, the beloved Miguel de Unamuno could be seen in the afternoon, drinking his coffee and folding pajaritas, little paper birds. Unamuno was an enthusiastic and celebrated paper folder — he wrote a mock 'scientific' treatise on paper folding and origami shows up in a number of his novels and poems. A famous caricature of Unamuno shows him as part man and part pajarita."

quarantini PORES
maker of thwart OZONE
calf by smoke-ring ROPED

indigo ENEMA
i know you SEDAN
on the tongue road as TARTS

bees & birds ABORT
while kappas hurtle ROGUE--
noise & silence TRUCE

teabags in ransack STEEP

Original face.

"A hyacinthine darkness flooded the titanic cedars before the house above whose immemorial crests like a sad opal the moon was rising." --Valmouth

Vastationqarrtsilani.

(80sretroelectro on tumblr)

scythian lamb (day 77)

(@CrookedCosmos)

Horror surf.

"the countdown
in the leftover snow
celestial music"

--@poem_exe

Comfort zone.

1.
OPERA
slung on PAPER

discharge for the EPOPT

of the dire--most--vulture REPOS
--ARTSY

2.
DEVOS
hawked fremd EPOPT
spurns vast at the VOLTA
double star by lineup OPTIC
band STACK

3.
MESAS
pick their EPOPT
downpipe tumble SOOTY
to hit though reward were APTER
STYRO

Through the jaws of death.

"Whose name is as a silver shawm blown loud" --Nimrod

(via)