Field Guide to Feral Ornaments

Preface

2006-01-04T20:01:00.000-08:00

So what will be leaning on the proprietor’s fence, snap, snap, what surrounds it. It is no longer possible to slay identification. Nature has been pinioned from outsides. Language: already-destroying involuntable codes of the seen. I need tacit tags for what one finds and takes from there in mathematics and physics: analytic, smooth, smooth with boundary, smooth with angular boundary, stratified spaces, combinatorial, Lipschitz, quasi-conformal and general non-commutative spaces.

The visual field in this sense of the term—a technique of alliance—must exalt a sliver of extra-human faculties for an instant (think "extraction"). Without a vomit of green there is no proof of the organs without bodies, the calm meadow for slighting, or a spite that impresses us when we walk there and there is the camas beside the in-itself. This is a better cellular politics.

A growth assumption will not resist a fit. I play with the river before I take them, sliding my hands into their loose rants, cradle their calls in a pretence of renderlessness, encircle their roots with my pale fingers, making them sit before me, demanding that they tug themselves stupid. Alas, Darwin split perception from sudden exposure to organic abundance, propagated easily by cuttings, grow rapidly, and characteristically male bear and female flowers in catkins on separate plants. Lost on the shore without a sandal, or this technicality, memory negates reeling, spy the meadow as fast approaching on the horizontal plane—meanwhile, the sky’s looming over the incandescent plight of aesthetic theory. Space "morphed" to broad hollow and intertangled. Repeatedly branched variants foretold and transitive and primordial and passive or encouraged to get digitized around the outcome of a general election. Uncomfortable for the mechanism, but who’s operating who? One could stand. The areolate imagination, heavy or light, outcompetes others on disturbed soil and mass and vision. Time isn’t relative that way, not unravels and absorbs, fool, the actual measurement is already misinterpreted as foliose.

What is the name of the elusive flower that got from around this once populated now. I’m trespassing in an enclosure place: punctuated equilibrium in a grafted fixity? One writer virtues with meanings scale-like, soon dissapearing, and rarely. Is dilation constitutive of the barn oracle? A marker looks upon the world with personal eyes and his peculiar moods and he calls the thing erroneous, that which cannot, thematically, clothe in impression as dander appears before charismatic megafauna in the way in which impression uses the word. With all this viewing the Human learnt to assure, to grind and polish rather than chip. The "pro-civ" bastards of the mission made reflection an enchantment as thickly spun as a literalist blight. An overdependence on stood stuck the portrait on the mountain, the utterance paused in stance among trees, deliberately, in a well-known conversation on conservation, abandoned in mid-sentence. In every perception of nature is actually present the whole of society. The tree may not be escaped by means of the tree.

Suppose there is a better way of telling the disappearance of those adorned sponges held terrestrial only by an observation that is just unlike some snugly fit domesticant. Familiar as an enunciated root, on the same trail, or almost there, it is a meadow to move in, to track the ichneumon fly on, on, or in the act, to spike as it will a rose. Since overspread can’t be factoried to explain material charges themselves—it’s not proper if taproot built squirts of presentation in primary units got entanglement dans la jardin—in woodland and in humid pasture labour is less than urine. What the body is is to the animal is, is to the vegetable creation as sublimation of discovered. The lignicolous want to live for itself.

[Ecopoetics 2 (Fall 2002): 64-65.]

Renal Slaw

2006-01-03T11:00:00.000-08:00

1. Confession to DeMentor

After four years, a thought to dedicate this frame or to disperse it or
Voiding all memory, in a fun holiday, to just blow me welfare earnin's
To get rid of art entirely for a reassuring study of what we might burn--
Not only Jacques & Gilles' diagrams for a smaller bomb but
The remaining copies of Engels' funeral speech, perhaps, where the citizens begged
To be let into a smaller space where they could fuck harder, this time
For more than trading, for a bowl of soup and bread, that is what they want.

They're rosy-cheeked addicts cum-Newton whom defrocked their meltdown
While Woody introduced seven new offical culture figurines, including Enya
And Marx, whose compacted metals still might bear such phrasings as: "Hey! The barmaid
Who, at 87, with such monstrous gout, told that asshole not to be
So divided among her Various arts that she cannot once again tend to the bar!"
Genius inspired that line But Mister Dressup let us feed on the vittles of John Q. Public,
Lancer of the Ballad of the Funnel in Profile. Your will has arrived
And it has touched us inappropriately, deeply.

Many photographs and drawings, too, rush at such things, but they inevitably
Gorge 'emselves on the cutest of the cutting edge, poor spawners, why do they
Leave out the everyday from the human with such accuracy as to break the ideological
Crust of the benign neighbourhood when eighty percent of poor fools spoon
Sections into terms, forcing oneself, if necessary, to bog down on relatively unimportant
Items, to flaunt the analysis laboratory? For a thing to rid the place of its stuff? Stuff like
Gramma and Gramsci tend to collect: pith, snoose, francolin, glans, smarm, spunk,
Lead, and whisky--ah, that dry spirit--because our eyes' contents are always a Biggie
Analysand, that's right, Biggie Analysand, like he always liked to invite
For a process of subdued power, and attendance isn't genetic. Weights can float or,
If it can manage to muscle them into a space more description than vacuum,
Cutting across, can replace the barriers of the nomenclature of apparency, but only by
Fostering a climate of exactly equal and sweetly unique suspicions, can end up
Joining them along a single axis. We made seamless reproductions of Althusser's
Head on them first, and then we discarded the original. We exploded ourselves into the
Joint, clutching muzzle-loaders and letters of reference while Don fondled the
Text, fairly lightly at first, but then the uselessness of the gesticulatory schemata of
Such a typical mid-morning insurrection exposed the self-actualizing agenda and
The constant effort after meaning and the fabricating of the world lost in a form of time
Not our own, and the epitomization of an energy that is distinctly discarded entirety,
Was really much too interesting. And we drowned.

That pianist sat in a garden kneading Hakim Bey and filched end-rhymes from
Hopkins. We encouraged everyone to blame Eduard. (At least Eduard knows
A thing or two about the blighted capacity of the vote!) All minors crave trustees, c.f. Marjorie.
We feel like being ourselves tonight, letting loose with a few bricks, 'cause
States make schools and schools make Sucks. That's right, 'Sucks', with slender erudition.
The youth of today have it. They're stuffed with certitude. Lil' Joleen and Gerry
Give more of less to their avowed function, or by a thought, yield to these lines a skillful
Dis, coexisting like spanking or use of head, the mountain snow, her quivering
As if she had never been a human. Now throttle this incompatible monist narc.

The emerging writers are schooled in explosives whilst tyrants rule and possess solid
Types. Even 2pac says that justice is the disadvantage of the powerful. Want
To engender something unique and specific despite the irrefutable epiphany
Of science, of science and technology, technology and art, art and the communicatory
Sequencing of experiences? Poetry realigns the occurrence and the instance through
The Balkans right into the Medulla Oblongata. Still it's got some worms, the stench of
Scandal, clings to the profits of culture. Of course some infractions will occur but
All the best in negating temporality anyhow! They're contortionists by dint of knowing
When feelings of guilt arising from membership in a Community tend to restore
The exisiting power arrangements. This has a lot to do with everything absent,
Sort of like that falafel Chomsky ate last September, you know, when language
Was going to make us really snappy, see? Poetry thus commands silence and thereupon
Makes and/or causes to be made in a loud voice a proclamation in the following words
Or to some like effect:
"Her Majesty the Queen charges and commands all persons
Being assembled immediately to disperse and peaceably to
Depart to their habitations or to their lawful business on the pain
Of being guilty of an offense for which, on conviction, they may be
Sentenced to imprisonment for life."

2. Transitional Slogs

Poetic diction is a good place to bury the grief of the pack. Reading offers to expire
Apparently random sequences of images. In composition certain ideas about faltering
Mirror dreams of working-in-the-fields. Poor surplus idiot. Verbal consciousness is
The structure under-produced in light of the reading. Structure is tension over balance.
Immersion in the subtle amniotic fluids of the mercantilist makes for horny slaves.
She reveals form in her way. It is in order to defend himself. Experiment with theft &
Infantile discursive terms. The appearance of the new only with occurrences of
Plagiarism in any form that it occurs to you: structure varies so rules best. Remember:
Their goals involve the proportioned violation of inner and outer.
Embarass hundreds. Isn't the second bastard more agreeable? Status disguised.

My Spankopita, a mix of spinach and feta cheese baked inside a pastry with an almost
Croissant-like texture, "filo" it's called, was two weeks old. Fibrous, it was all mine,
It was everything to me, it was the same as my core pulsings. The Olson-Creeley
Correspondence was thus preferrable, though hardly enough for Tre's breakfast. I
Questioned the tenderness of volume three, or its emphasis on postural signature.
I recall that it was Winter, and that I could no longer distinguish the poor from the
Psychotic. Yet I felt so attractive, cooking with broth in Tuscany--underworld veritas
A south atlantic ocean of linguistic syncretisms, including Said's cruel demeanour. The
Spin light made rays that ought'a get one down. This isn't a perception and neither is it
My best effort. I've always disagreed with Merleau-Ponty here but on metaphysics it's
blank. We should, in the Words of Henny Youngman, formulate an: "administration to
enforce a false harmony in a situation that should be rife with conflict."

It's always fear with them, they glutinous, he had his hand on our spleens because Willis
Ran to the barricades--Willis! Don't forget my cramps! Oh, cramps! Dear
Colleagues: don't write about award-winning Resorts with spectacular pools.
Again: that device often worked with the fuzz. There are inflammatory "legumes"
For the taking, Commisars. Don't keep stop remembering how
some kinds of principles skulk behind this operation but since someone used up all of our Bondo we're no longer worried (probably associated with standing hydrodynamical
Microphallacial decoding models, though here the tree simultaneously birthed
Compressions, and those farther down the line, which tend to be associated with bends
In the line). Screaming bore salvages with sack in ashens top mid-declasse pup cringings. Screening wore averages if vaccinations stop middle-class upbringings. Make a pattern of Repetitions stop.

Use source material; that is, make binaries with other
People's writings (according to Spivak's brazen attack on the bulbospongiosus
Which uses them no longer faintly, for this is a tradition of poeisis that
Can bruise the men or oblongly score with attrition whose better pieces
Comes out of the semblance of Slavic to a language of ultimate phonics
Rendered rigid by a different bestial orbus in Tumult (Ariz.) this time
With limitation, on an order by order basis), abdominal ratios, and finally the divine
Faction, based on the trapezius, derived itself from what Vi calls the merchant
Principle itself-of disbelief-So sought after by fiction-oriented countries.

Please hire me. I was an active Founding Member of the Association of Non-Participants.
I organized a Non-representational Model of phonomatastic marks & was against all
Forms of Preconditioning. This group persists even in the state of its own ex-
Communication. Changing helps its constructional scope, for it accepts the physical
Limitations of Moholy-Nagy: the turn from painting to photography in the path of light
like a Straw dropped across the path of an ant.

Who threatened simple action when anything but this question enlightened fact?
Admit to my pay-limit or limit my pay! Picketing is dull in any case.
To this end one might explore a multitude of subversions in synchronous non-urban spaces.
Mum was a Scottish Jungian and may have been monied but it was her eating disorder:
The other patients didn't believe she had a legitimate illness and we asked him
About our Background. Who won't learn choices? Transitional slogs. Class analysis of the fucking Earth.
That offended them and they began yelling that his specialty was in the research end of things
The dummy gorged on pickles & salt & sandwiches or corn beef and
Sandwiches or jam and poetry or ham and cheese croissants or poached pears with
Gorgonzola or BC Rail Cordon Blue (faux) or butternut squash and asiago cheese
Croutons or smoked mackerel or reason is a noun and love changes like a daily panini
And no other assembly can make visible this elaborate allegory for knowledge and
Consumption. In fact, our remarkable fluency with poetic language has led us into
Smaller syllabic units & new words: "85" (eg. "analyst") becomes "cog plate" (65) or
"Pierced metal bracket" (77) becomes "full metal jacket" (32).

He says she didn't go out of myself to reread "All The King's Men" (IS #8).
It is another quest for arts funding. A temporary pause in regress, he's like that guy Seal.
People who have a heavy concentration of soil in their matrix are like those rough kids
Approaching the state. But that guy mediates my life for me, confound it. We're hands
And feet bound by what we can't afford which is on the one hand rheumatism and next time
Around we can't shake this rhinalgia. Take off pant while life is still
Sweet (oh puh-leaze, how can that be declared not-ours?).
This is my properly occupied mass you blockheads. Economy's being
Undermined by them polyps what cannot be accounted for as compositional
Functions in terms of that meaning of the parts in the circumstance of competition
Because damn even as abstract they've lost recurrent value. Think about
Keanu's theory of the clairvoyant for once, then see if Pappy still whips out
The Economist over Mini-Wheats & starts cooking your goose about the milieu
Of labour. The car does not need washing, it needs to be reduced to its
Basic components and contextually modified:
¤34. The landowner has nothing with which to reproach the merchant.
¤35. He practices robbery in monopolizing the land.
The specimens above can then be designated as spectral by that Liberal even as he
Is cloistered by the speakers, like when Hairy Potter had to meet Ricky in the
Dungeon, because it's laid out prior. Them's axioms people. Ask at the Credit
Union about the separation of capital from SecuriGuard. Eventually everyone
Becomes rounded and may fall off, that's just good old fasioned dyshematopoiesis.
In closing, let us cite Dr. Bottomore.

3. Professor Bottomore's Recapitualtion: Anacoluthon

And events remain opaque (remember Enron?), and the stwuctuwal concepts enciphering ancient glyphs comment on the possibility of decoding dalliance on the presentatias of phrases designified too convoy a nuance o' steerage, and I gave, und forgetting patty-cake danger drop at ran, since Dan wanted more holes to have over and over, I make a way, and it is too many, including "self-governance" in Spahr (2001), and selling shame is trivial, and demand some compromise in shame to have at it better, to the heart's firmer swole to represent fanatics, and this morning I 'splain to you 'bout birds and hegemony: transcriptions from Maine, computer monitor, accent, junk in the lobby, Brackendale, coup., "parts of speech", West, smarter and harder-working children, airporter, occidentalis, Orogenies, and we have offered solid transitional phrases such as "like a cattle prod", "I like police", and "Osama inserted the projectile" until the knowledge can take a rest, and wouldn't you be the one to expect specific proposals to consider the limitations of that Clarity, and forming fabio-external control me grant final decision-making, and Butler's work on iterative acts is downright dull, but useful because Butler exposes an agency that can come straight out of the tactical refusal to be articualted as a subject by a discursive act that may grant materiality but does so under hostile conditions, and are you straight, obtaining a right by themselves, shall go to that place and, after approaching as near as is safe, if the person is satisfied that others defined cumbersome liberation, and to quote Cavell, "make our agreement in judgments grounds that each person must take responsibility for her or his own special shit and have at (Lincoln liked Portishead then) the shrubber for the failure to have at that private bungler, to have it at another punky shove, to shove it into shape, that desiring production is that primary signified if that is understood as what it signi'd to have it at Pyotor's main Papa, to have it all over Zerzan's mad hits inwhich it pertains to the history of poetry, a portion of which is worth repeating, but that which made capitalism itself self-conscious and money energy, yeah, (and even capital possible and capitan a prickly one), the mark of a perception whose sense of the universal quality of fire is presented with the tree, in fact the military ordered out to allow help of the tele-bodied tongues near, and subject to Chapters and "Lemmy", or that person's depukey, who receives notice that, at any place within the jurisdiction of the person, strike me as rather sedentary, domestic, which is weird, and because the poetry appears itself as not tied to location, and, however, as I was telling Eve this morning (May 13th [$79.98 shirts, $1.20 transit, $8.69 food, $2.25 laundry, $5.00 entry fee]), I think a cover letter is yet mistaken if we want to garner responses, and kitty likes its bowl, and still, I'm up for being not too worried, surprisingly, and diets commensurate with the installation commander's approval authority for execution of real swindlin' property repair and maintenance projects (but not to exceed $2 million), and I'm going back to revise my 1st sequence, from summer 1994, which only after the fact I realize has nothing to do with Empire, as he finds their methodology in leadership and, for instance, unintegrated seasonal plants as different musicians take sub-goals or components of the project not confused with the end deliverable, and "Ah yes", and let me now say something about this, and every effort was made to ensure the accuracy of the instructions contained in this discharge, but errors do occur, and it assumes you have read the manual, and notice your statue is now in the middle of this room and examine revolving light, and voice offered trivia to speak through working balls, and examine circle of light being shone on the wall in front of you to reveal a secret panel, and what will enter the secret panel pleading for someone to bring an old Journal back into print, and pocket their model sense, and "Be apt", and twelve codes envy your swats, and stop it with brimp. Said renal slaw.

[Companions and Horizons: An Anthology of Simon Fraser University Poetry. Ed. Stephen Collis. Burnaby, BC: West Coast Line Books, 2005.]

Sparker

2006-01-01T20:10:00.000-08:00

feat F.R. Scott

Leaders are landlubbers.

I hadn’t seen the material but I felt I’d been had. I, for it was I indeed, rather than accept a rent of five hundred dollars for my apartment, had preferred to occupy the cow shed, and enjoy it, as a cow might, for it is clear that I shall become your heifer, for a rent equal to that which you deny yourself.

I am in a species, you are in a country. I know not why you phalansterians use Greek words to convey ideas which can be expressed so clearly in French. I must not carpet of having bones for sale. Taken in unison, we wonder about each other’s stand, but if we open our mouths, making visible our spleen, if only then, beyond the warehouse, we slink into what’s hominid in begging, roused, dozy, becoming greater-than, unique. Then I almost pucker off your post-surgical sense of "pwoblem solving" — go home, where it is different, where we isolate each other.

The cultural is mechanical.

This campaign is a piracy, its rhemes tight mature ones: "Bad writing affects." Talk about tautologies. I was out chalking when I clawed what really stunk in that wind. I will get it and everything. I’ll go right in and pluck it. Basket it up — you too. It does break with leaden horseplay so I wouldn’t. I ego farthest. I insist upon the tactile, which I have just pointed out, as one of the more salient facts not attributed to Sparker.

The air in this shithouse has been unbreathable for a long time. It is inert. But am I also bound to share with you my provisions?

A Theoryof Poetry.

Who should be shot? Who will eat? Representation stinks like Canada and there’s no longer any coins left to turn the public houses into dens of slime. Flowers become sterile when the stamens are changed into petals, as I saw when inspecting the rose. And through excessive friction the penis loses its fertilizing power. Then, in order that the gastronomic régime of gender may produce the results claimed for religion, not only must the females be fattened, but the males must be rendered impotent. Oppress us with ourselves, or at least give us crackers if that’s all there is! Forever New! Emaciate oral pageant. Somebody stoke my pie-snout!

Little Hans.

This should be enough to wreck the attempts cybernetic power will make to envelop Little Hans in a mystique. I like to sit here lying on my bed, sort of thinking about affluence.

That reminds me of a natural comparison I can make: it’s like a pick. To wit, chance and flow no longer suffice to justify such a sweaty ennui. Forgetting, I identify with a range of your images, from the pasty to the brackish to the sharp.

You will turn back.

[Front XII:3 (May/June 2001): 8-9.]