poetry is not just for the professionals!

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Day 14, NaPoWriMo 2016

I just got an email promotion saying “There’s always shopping”–

Seriously, how great is that? To think that I can buy stuff any time any place.

This is where I get on board the late capitalism train, I’m HOPPING

On that bourgeois bus when it comes to ACQUIRING. What? Pace

Myself a little? Please! I know about credit card debt with endless purchasing

And how once you start you have to keep on buying though there’s no place

In closets or garages or cars – otoh — don’t care! Let me drown in my consumables!


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day 12 NaPoWrimo 2016

Index poem — looking through the D’s in the Western Garden Book.


devils backbone — does he have one?

devils tobacco — does he roll his own?

devils walking stick  — doesn’t he just have a pitchfork?

(could we decenter this concern with plants named after Satan?)

digitalis sounds like something you need when you have diabetes but that’s better

and disporum cantoniense sounds like what my friends talk about

what it was like to leave china and become part of that vast displacement

what about something cheerier?

dog weed

dolls eyes

dove tree — yes.

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last poem – opposite of hans arp

we would like to sell steel mills
we would like to sell oil
how much would we contribute to charity?
how much would we give away of the proceeds?

my earth’s core is dull, says the earth
roses roses answers the plenitude
my organs distintegrate says the body
roses roses answers the plenitude

we would like to sell steel mills
we would like to sell oil
should we go ask the garbage collector how much we should give away to charity?

Isn’t our opponent the garbage collector a fool of the lowest order?
see o see how he dulls and disintegrates in his machine for hire.

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she called it deep red

she called it deep red, red like a wound
red like red riding hood’s cape red like
the blood he was so relieved to see
because it meant she wasn’t pregnant
noise is red like the guitar that just started up
for no reason — and red like the wine i almost
ordered but didn’t because i chose white instead —
i don’t have red clothes with me, instead i have black
and grey but at home in my closet red shoes for
dangerous dancing, red bras red stockings
oh wait i lied — i am wearing something red after all
red glasses -which i can’t see because
they are on my head.

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day #27 “brecht” google search

a theatre practionner

bb was a pain in the ass-

he stayed in the GDR

because he never found his

place. he hated the old

germany, and he hated hollywood

so he went to east berlin and did

commie-plays — it’s easy to dismiss

him now that Berlin’s filled with McDonalds

and slick sex workers, but as the final scraps

of the wall come down remember

bb talked about power and sex and justice–

and equity. we’re still seeking those things

it seems.

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erasing the faerie queene

Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,
Thy weaker Nouice to performe thy will,
Lay forth out of thine euerlasting scryne
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,
Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,
That I must rue his vndeserued wrong:
O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.



Help virgins (and)

chief(s) lay

antique hidden knights and noble princeS

sought suffered ill — i must

help weak wit sharpen tongs