LENINIST PEP TALK

 

  It feels stupid 

while you are doing it

but what you are doing

is called living

and I 

want you 

to know 

    that it is 

a

 fucking

revolutionary

activity!

QUOD OPUS MIHI EST

 

what is my work

what is my job?

materials everywhere

and tons of contrivances

a net amount of flesh is totally involved

but my overall energy levels

spell the death of hustle

and when I stop:

the slight taste of iron

and what is my wages?

well, it must be something

visible only

from very far away

Cancelled poem from early 90s

 

ON FLIES

Robert Herrick came to me in a dreame last night and wanted me to get this out to you all. TC

FLies (we knowe) love decomposing Flesshe

and also Poope, when they can get it fresshe.

ON DRUGS

It is easy to be fearless

if you're on drugs

if you have an endless supply

you should definitely take drugs

Invocation to DIONYSIACA

 

from the Greek of Nonnus

 

Sing goddess the bright burning mess-

enger of the CRONIDAI

the breathless labour brought on by thunder

the massive electrical storm in Semele’s bridal bed

—report on the birth

of twice-born BACCHUS whom Zeus his father plucked

half-formed from the fire

—goo-covered baby—

SANS DOULA

how painfully he cut a cavity in his thigh

and carried him there, father and noble mother both

not unmindful of a previous pregnancy

when his head gave birth

having an unbearable, unbegotten lump

enlarging his cranium

until it burst

and shot forth burning in her armor

 bright

ATHENA

FRAGMENTUM ARBOREUM

We never knew 

what horrors that tree

was hiding from view

ALEXANDRINES FOR JULY 2020*

The tortured chimp retrieves a razor from the trash--

He grins, and on his right and left begins to slash.

*Inspired by Dario Argento's Phenomena (1985)

MY MONSTER MOVIE

Toxic orange slug

giant-size threat to planet

townsfolk shout  ‘you suck’

The General looks on and frowns

he’s got nothing, he’s useless

His tactics are lame

Malignant kaiju

oozing up from toxic depths

Godzilla hates you

Unfortunately

Godzilla is sleeping now

Man, wake his ass up!

But you will be shocked

When Godzilla is recharged:

You will bite on death

THE MANAGER SASSY

Sassy out of nowhere
vacates her torpor
to correct me
issuing commands with claw and tooth
and low malevolent noises
folding back her ears to say:

'Thomas.
You're a valuable member of our team
but if you walk out that door
before doing what is necessary
don't bother coming back.
And even if you do do 
what is necessary
I will maim and eventually
eat you.'

POEM FOR EARTH DAY

THE lion will eat you:

but not until you get to hell

whatever type of hell,

it doesn’t matter which

since all of them drain

at last into the selfsame ditch

and anyway each
will have been renamed.

Do you smell the rain on this stern warm wind?

It is a message. Let no one ignore it.

Leaves, even new ones, fly sideways before it.

Get your shit together!

That wind is merely the borders

of an interpenetrating planet

that now arrives.

Classes are cancelled

church is cancelled

all contracts are void

The Assyrian lion whose teeth

are points in this contracting constellation

will be eating you, and you will know

neither unending sorrow nor eternal bliss

as you wind throughout its starry guts

I will see you again

when we are gathered to a point in the end

by which I mean never, old friend.

Old friend,

you will have lost your contacts

instantly, all in exchange for your
instantaneous kinship with the dead

go ahead and barf

To remember me recall my mangled ungrammatical poem

recall it to yourself as one who briefly understood

the language of various beasts

of ferrets, mongeese, old demented cats

and magical magical dogs

and the fucking-songs of fertile parakeets.

4/22/14 thc

BUTTER KRUST CONFESSIO AND UNCTION

Gorgeousness has always been my curse

and my addiction:
roaring products spring
directly into my hands
like a punch in the face
or the head

But listen, carnal: when I lie dying I know that I will smell
Butter Krust Bread

San Antonio, Texas,
such perfection having always been
my downfall and my curse.

Hear me, chachi: don’t try to recycle it:
chuck it in the garbage
where old patterns may at last

reveal themselves…

look into it who will…

but I shall have entered Butter Krust Country
por última vez.

To Crown the Dying World with a Verse

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

decomposing bat found in walmart organic salad

PROSE SCAN

It's maximum output: constant subvocal rumination. The mind's attempt to establish silence, perhaps: by expelling all impressions, negating all reflection, projecting all functions. Dead bodies are politely moved to the side, and activity continues.

It is like a pyramid with no exterior: its blindness is its sight.

GET BEHIND ME IXTAB

Death has its attractions

suicide its charms,

this we know.

So, watch out for Ixtab:

her theatre is pretty wide,

her borderline

totally unguarded.

No wall there; no assholes

screaming ‘get lost!’

In other words it’s even easier

to stray into her zone

than into hell.

You know, I’m kind of a wild man,

but I will take the long way around Ixtab.

Give her respect:
she's a seducer

and everything she touches

turns to perfect.

So, watch out for Ixtab,
notwithstanding what the fuck we
already know, 
i.e., that
suicide hath its charms

and death its many attractions.

collage by TC

Problem for October 17, 2019

False friends who knowingly recommend stupid poets to you
--or did so any number of years ago--calculating (and perhaps mocking)
the stages of your comprehension of such a slight...

...are impressive,
perhaps superior
but must be abandoned

like abortive trips
to really high-end grocery stores.

DELIBERATION for October 15, 2019

When it's all over there are still these:
repellent people who use their money 
to dress themselves repellently 
and talk loudly in public.
What literary form can stop them?
What argument can even 
retard their success?
But the real question is simply this:

whether to put these people to the        sword
or to SHATTER ALL WORLDS.

PROFILE

she created overheated characters

who were punished and dismissed

women who were raised by manuals

balancing her burden of flesh

(can’t you control your flesh?)

until she was caught defying 
     the patriarchy

now she is no longer the person 
    who hurt him 

the beautiful woman 
so in need of money

but a corpse in the ground

‘Protestant whore!’

Rationem inire:

When objectification is combined
with modesty and virtue well

the issue then has to do
with the flesh of women from which meaning
is extracted she shed the wife and mother

and became only a young

beautiful woman in need of money

taking her place
briefly in the sun 

Poem 95: Sha naqba imuru

The exorcist-priest Sîn-lēqi-unninni

rose before dawn

between 1300 and 1000 BCE



it was dark

but light and dark are nothing to the one

whose prayers

are heard by the Moon



the difficulty this morning

was the voices



there were too many



there were far too many 



and more of them than usual


could be heard over the dogs

UNSEEN THINGS YET ARE

...quod nequeunt oculis 

rerum primordia cerni

accipe praeterea 

quae corpora tute necessest

confiteare esse in rebus 

nec posse videri

...since the beginnings of things 

do not appear to sight

you must also learn of bodies 

which you, even you,

confess are things, 

but which none can see

Lucretius, De rerum natura I. 268-271

such as manuscript ⍺,
       o-prime:
      the archetype

no one gets to see
the archetype

NO ONE

and yet 
its body
sublimely dispersed
brushes against your
dying  flesh
even now