Sunday

dishonEurS

Jill grad'tes with dis'honours knot beening a knight of frugal intent she was out the tent when it came snow blow time and fast fender in her anatomy. She was bummed out of scholarship like the old doll she was. A dame with a looselip and a fast tongue. a harlequinade in her maiden maid. With some series of cinematic rough-necks. thatstole her shampoo ripp'd up her welfare check. start. rituals in her hair. ripped off her body. camped in her living room. preten'ed the world was round when its square. cant find her living . space. not a difference between parlour and parlor. a vowel 's absence changed the relations of America and Canada. transcendence and immanence. not the flow of anything special but the outside speaking to recession and the comfortable bathing suits of bodies.

Mona micturated to Antioedipus. the same way, no not the same, the anexactly disssimilar way catholics genuflected to their god in some church of absence pain and not fun.

Cept Mona Jill,
or Jill

Jill micturated to Antioedipus. the way. O sun was cloud.
O the lining was gold more than gold, better than.
Blue.

Thursday

silence of ....the

The silence

Imagine if we met in India and you have your hearts off. I kiss y our monstrous ___ machine ____ made ,
you find the state
and most muddled status is something called



of charming madrigal


or come off other options of Jill respecting author of swim or
sank the swam or sunk leaning before him
all those years ago

when hand eyes still

perceived the metal of their phrase



over dream mouths where rivered helded ground

of glove ram in the hill of auctions and inspecting
back of beauty rim to hold the havesong ought its
tragic pair to lank the diamonds of breed .

what microdot of culture is this? synaptic with the
explaination.


Not the other gaze gathering in the ground .




It heaps up sheep farmers, nomads billy boots
rain coats cellos violins which cry in your cape




.


Who said it wasn't?

Wednesday

requote

just because you have a nose
dont mean you have to smell or cause you
gotta repent dont mean you
dont have to say yer sorry
contrite as tears in
fates

that stick yer nose
in the upwind of solace
picking people err all the time
rhymes fall from their hair

night is a sheep goddess holding her shade


words caliper cape


the immanence of democratic flows
stolen by a bad' girl a griffon to hawk her wares
under the table of the sun

how does one pay the debt credit
of lover long
sexy to her mouth song




just because you paid for the whole bow, you don't have
to use it... an old string player's saw... inher teeth




gnawing the saw





Jill in January a native daughter of notice




clings to time piece
her grueled self .


Knowing's the thing the thing the thing the
zing
I zing the place said Antioedipus in the repeating motif
repatriating himself .


just see this

____________


Just see this

and be over the air a helicopter

brilliantly shivering over the bay


atop the sky not brilliant

like the 'gem'd' blue of shivering


diamonds .



.

_________________




the displaced spy of her hands offers air

or sudden softenesses
her hands possess
around her hips



other navigations
spheres of taste to clear
the heart piece
its repose in his face




________






of this & that
she makes shapes

appear




out of her elbows
her cockamammy self


his...






narcotic narrowness
her moist meadow's
the place for him to follow







.







__________



Other wept spaces merge in Mona's pillow,

her dear self down


.



______



from presenting future to past









plateau 2006 forward the past 2005 .


how?

how do you catch up with the past? she asked. was the
asking the past already caught to the future's folding
becoming her face mouth eyes that peered near
the thing?



was it that which sorrow'd the thing


her body called to his again

her



unnamed parts saying his



his saying his future was her song definite
in the air




(Mona having no control over the space
of the text let it go
its own desiring blossoms




)

Text blossoms & Booms Booms the room
of desire the faster fire machine .



Jill joints the text god jinxed in her twist
to fate a hair-pin to her love of him.
Not nackered by pasty element in her gue for him
his body belongs to her[s]. Her body
locks the cement cabin . No cant lock
neighborhoods of flock and fish.
Shes jesus many and joseph to his
mountain thrust of song.
she got lungs that cant keep up
angers that aint his.

Thursday

since

since you quit smoking yer ashes're not the same
yer not the bisexual i was in love with
my hearts fall over the shambles of your sexual drive

your sexual desire that was a fantasm of good
and true and
oth'r platonic ones and twos is just not the same
so come to me baby with yer red and blue
many bodies of malefemale and boygirl girlboy
as we shuffle off the coil of rank and hue some
rhyme scheme of power defined by the
video arcade of your lies

Leman speak to me I am bleeding
without your thoughts
pickled by the thought of your death




.


you know who my father is,
dont ya, dont ya see
its night and day?



Mona wanted and wanted shimmering her cage






.

Wednesday

Happy Deteritorialized Birthday Gilles Deleuze

The Weblog: Single Post View


Anthony Paul Smith: from the Weblog _
"Gilles Deleuze would be eighty-one today if he had not taken his own life on the 4th of November ten years ago. Do not expect any grand discussion of his suicide, where one relates it to Spinoza's conception of suicide or Nietzsche's conception of overcoming. That certainly could be done, but I'm not the one to do it. (You all know I'm more suited to comment on how handsome he is in this picture.) I can only express my gratitude for the thought that came from his life and the radical redirection my own thinking took after I experienced reading Deleuze.



In many ways I find myself wanting to pledge my fidelity to Deleuze and Deleuzianism, knowing that this would demand precisely the opposite. It's strange the chance encounters we have with thinkers, the new paths they set us charging down, the new commitments our acceptance of their thought calls for. Those of us who do work in philosophy, especially what goes by the misnomer of European philosophy, are often accussed of guruism. I can't deny that there is some sting in that charge, but why would we ever want to think with those with whom we didn't have a profound respect.

Today I look for a line of escape, knowing that I am all the time being reterritorialized within an insane regime of signs, but looking nonetheless. Happy Birthday Gilles, keep exposing the fissures in our being and following those lines in and through us. "


So Mona danced around a deterritorialized birth of berth to worth and song of rhyme to cadence and nuance the earth its lift of cave and pranced her weft of gift to long a sign of liberty to wisp the night of heaves her becomings to his a birth a birth

Monday

after

after her first relapse arrested the dis
ease he was sent to directly to hell do not
pass go stray from the path yer lost
as a thumb up yer butt. but. no buts
& ifs. said the one mentoring the returnee.
his teeth were sharp was razor blades &
his plane was dead dysfunctional, like
if you, like you know? what I mean?
his palpitating measures was no damn good.
mocksee down the drain.
a filthy rain pipe busted at the butt.
of her butt there was nothing like it.
song to heaven and rain as the. splash
of her beauty. fell to him. alcoholicly wet.
not a virture of good better and best,
but sick. less sick. and better. well.
so the days of rejuvenation.



creation was in a hurry
being in a hurry there was no time
to repent relent and spent
as the relucant jewels of her face
she saw hi m .



Behold the coming of the Lord.
Blithe savant!

Sunday

In Jill

In Jill we put our faith. Faith! o near and dear
was the earth's face it chalks
across hangars where men lift their sighs

What is this, demands Mona the sagging
feet of her weight carrying the dirty earth to her navy heart as the boat topheavy wears her bum. Her bum as round
as the heavy sphere as the original object of space. what
come inside my head is this?

eat the hour of its shawl like predators. camber the new
of its loft over turn the hand which feeds a lamnet not
worth the cost.

Corset she unpeels to her seeing eyes
to his body kissed upend to his cock's desire
to see her inside his oedipus inside mother
to sole son of her sex _ hugger mugger comedy
of its narcotic kissing. Come over here to the
lake where this eye waits for you. Stretch your
body some more, come on to me honey,
I am your only mummy. Inside of you
I am mother. Mother to lover
chiefly the hillside of their bodies.




Nail to nail
sex to sex
its the only word they cannot say .

Wednesday

e.t.c. shock

e.t.c. shock therapy is what its called.

what!

Tuesday

of wreathing tents

Not e to air and fill the
what reckons on the space
her breath spent on the page of a thousand trampling
bodies soldiering their battle rabble cry


not a sear air of burning justice
or ships rounding on their harbours
or negative neighboring bays
or
the lingual adolescent's stable
and the because of what
because of this I cannot turn
and spare the

agonies of thought because I could not breath
your


because I saw the forthing back to
the cell of the universe

no it was some morsel snagged
off the twig of cuts from leaving
soldiers or gazing
down skies where he stood




but imagination's the thing
reminded Jill with her forest back down and her played out song her legs naked to his feel to come on their staring welcome to sheet the rubber of his thighs his body a plastic sheet when Deleuze the singer saw the heard night of plateau river tumbling over the wax operator and stony as the lime it was granite boots to lasso the crystal of its
cry
not the cinder of its hell bent brow
bow and arrow of circle of language
fostering its own alarm
sowing night and fairies
succubi and incubi lovers
in the air twisted shape




is is a rudder to make you see, its yer spent nights
're his song?

Sunday

mona 24 draft

Mona was a bird of flight. And Franny was too, before the night wasyoung. So the molecular paths were past past tenderness. Was the anxietyof deferral greater than the anxiety of influence? was the strata thebending then bedding of noun and preposition, or the verb ofproposition. God what deaths one found in the de-politicized.

some say its a draught, or checkers, you face
scarred, tarred and mired. what sum of hope was that,
yer tired, face, haggard.

Of Jill and Oona and Mona, Franny holding back,
her lover,
her breath.

and other envies and jealousies.

Mona glossematics

So the plate of linguistics tics, toes and

Wednesday

to quote

just because you paid for the whole bow, you don't have
to use it... an old string player's saw... inher teeth



gnawing the saw





Jill in January a native daughter of notice





a ring to echelon forth the heavy snow
bound nape of her neck




the lover's bonnet
or some tune she has in mind



a child could play it, rubato






She clears the ground
for orchestral sidemen
&

women tumbling on their feet
sarabands





ranging



.





Through hell and high water
hi-fi and high dudgeon


.


A pompous face if ever there was one .

Monday

Jill says

Jill says hello fast forward future
looking back




rewinds the past catches up
to future retrospect



clings to time piece
her grueled self .


Knowing's the thing the thing the thing the zing
I zing the place said Antioedipus in the repeating motif
repatriating himself .

Sunday

in the cafe

in the cafe haunted places a face
fears its name its turning cannot turn
because it could not learn
it could not see
because its heart was turned fetal
like to deceit was the heart a fussy
thing
not so,
hamstrung by ray and kites battering the air
bartering the sun
its shine glitters in her




each tone
the hair whirls
he whiles away its hour glass
sliver




because I could not see
because its hold was damp
over the board its mast trampling
the shoveling murderous water




and soon we open the tear in the sun
soon the hymn raises wolves
carry foresters to the wood the jackals
screech their bark