I really want to get this going....

Each day's listing is an excerpted edit from my work. These are numbered and sub-headed for ease of read and isolation from full body of continued text. Each small excerpt is a single-themed piece culled from a much larger whole. Please follow the heading numbers down to #1, or click on 'archive'. The highest numbers are most recently posted, obviously. If so interested, for follow-up, you may contact via e-mail shown - perhaps for discussion or annotation needed.

Sunday, July 26, 2009



Death as a way of life (see under: ‘Love’) …noise gunshots and shouts incendiary words and mournful laments amidst explosions and demonstrations and heaps of clichés and special broadcasts from the scenes of terrorist attacks and calls for revenge…right there we’ve ‘pupae’d the larvae’ so to speak we’ve fled to the outer limits we’ve reached new boundaries of Hell from Albuquerque to Ataturk and Antioch to Amsterdam (and Athens to Alexandria Antwerp to Alsace Austin to Avenel) AND ‘within the whirlwind spinning and turning in the eye of the storm THERE IS SILENCE and it can be heard ! AND it is felt in every cell of the body writhing within each dilemma encoded with anyone there – Essene to Embryonic – a deepening silence such as one feels in the brief moment between receiving bad news and comprehending it between the blow and the pain THE EMPTY SPACE in which every person knows with piercing certainty all that he or she does not want or does not dare to know’ and then some parking lot tyrant comes by exposing himself (to ridicule to abuse to anything) and stands by the entrance to the hardware store near the pizza place waving two wands ONE the frieze from Wednesday night and the other the fifteen pounds of leftover palms he swiped from St. Matthew’s Holy Name Trade Fair and Exposition held at the Demolay Hall and hosted by Father John Rutabaga SJ who’s just back from Rahway where he administered to the flock all of the murders shootings and beatings he could manage BUT NOTHING NEW TRANSPIRED it had all been done before ‘well done Brethren – for we have entered the halls of God with bold new ideas in mind so let us sing as we pray for deliverance and bring forth the multitudes we need from but ONE lonely acolyte HIM who stands here freezing all alone’ and I hear them applaud as the lights go out and the movie fiction starts again (some Finnish guy in a yellow Ferrari racing towards the catacombs just outside the city) and nothing beats success except more success and its double DEATH so we all move on and soon enter Darkside or Navesink or Asbury or NETHERWOOD ! that’s what it’s called ! where the old servant quarters of Plainfield aspire to rise from their graves and retire to WHERE MY Son ‘Flower’ wishes to go (he’d changed his name from Rufus J. right after he had the operation) HE’S A GIRL NOW we have to call him something different but I lift the chair above my head only to see the ladder’s broken again and all the stairs are turned inside out and anything old is new again and two things always happen together ONE THE REFUTATION OF THE OTHER and like the Bible says ‘save now for a rainy day’ and ‘it’s only a paper moon ripping over the madman’s tomb’ but what I say I can’t decide and if ever there was HAPPY it was Mary’s womb but leg o’lamb and rack of pinion WHO LORDS OVER THE LORD’S DOMINION! and all of a sudden there came such a rush and I ran to the window to see what was the matter but all I received was one lethal blow and Charles Foster Kane all ready to go and he sat down beside me and started to sing and just then the whippoorwill cried and SOMEONE HAS DIED! was all that was said [Kane piped up: “you just give me the prose-poem and I’ll supply the WAR!’] and I noticed he laughed to his fat heart’s content and rolled towards the door until OUT THE DOOR HE WENT!!


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