Both Kent Johnson
And I
We have
Genuine uncertainty
Us!
With the differences between
Effect and affect.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Musings and Tags on Laura's Mullen's Blog
Abortion
Daffodil's
Harry Matthews
Katrina
William Wordsworth
Wordsworth
Bunnies
Mountains
Daffodil's
Harry Matthews
Katrina
William Wordsworth
Wordsworth
Bunnies
Mountains
Thursday, July 28, 2011
The Keeper REDUX
when i googled once "The Keeper"
my menstrual cup, my friend,
I searched for information
mostly regarding flow, effects,
my consciousness birthed a sigh of social relief
instead, I learned about a movie
of the same name no less,
"The Keeper," described
as an "absorbing thriller"
i used "The Keeper"
but i did not watch the movie
yet the movie
and the alternative to the tampax
shared a description
my menstrual cup, my friend,
I searched for information
mostly regarding flow, effects,
my consciousness birthed a sigh of social relief
instead, I learned about a movie
of the same name no less,
"The Keeper," described
as an "absorbing thriller"
i used "The Keeper"
but i did not watch the movie
yet the movie
and the alternative to the tampax
shared a description
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The Normal School (or: I shook poem writing)
My world has become so small. The poetic assembles between 2007 and 2010, accumulates like things in a bag. Nothing poetic happens anymore.
The world was poetry, an endless series of readings filled days an evenings. Poetry happened in buildings. Poetry meant different things to different people in different locations. In Stevenson, poetry meant different things than it did in Whitten, which meant different things in uptown. Poetry found it's spotlight and it found.
I shook poem writing and a Joe Amato fell out; hardly big enough; poem writing. I made lists upon lists. On 12 September, Joe says "it's not about poetry on the page, it's about Poetry." On 21 October, Joe says "in 10 years you won't remember this course, but you will remember Joe." Pure something, that was. Pure sweetness and mutherfuckinglight.
Connection is not equal to completion: Bodies are present, but they are fragmented; hands, legs, and shoulders seem to come together to form intricate, if anonymous, connections. Position, more than anything else, is what matters . . . In other contexts where bodies are mentioned, balance is achieved, as men and women work together in confident sets of movement and interdependency that coalesce to the positioning of women as supporter and pinnacle.
I shook poem writing and a Kass Fleisher fell out; hardly big enough. How do I assemble poets? Can I cook them up in a big pot and let them funk up, or scrap them for parts? Can I design a room furnished with poets? A Kristin Prevalet on the wall; a Laura Mullen on the table?
Connection is not equal to completion: The period, the grammatical symbol that cleanly and clearly signifies the end of a new thought and the beginning of a new line or stanza, is ultimately inconclusive; we are left to fill in the gaps.
I shook poem writing and a Theresa O'Donnell fell out; hardly big enough. Something sticky at the bottom. of. the. bag . . . SHIT FUCKERY. My poetry bag spilt and leakd the wrds.
Connection is not equal to completion: This plurality of existences exists in the unsteady relationships between people, an illusion of a unified 'culture,' what Foucault calls the 'strategic field of power relations' as both building sit for configurations between people and the unsteady and inconclusive ground of our connectivity.
I shook poem writing and a Holms Troelstrup fell out; hardly big enough. Are you ten years ago, too? My mirror reflects a Kirstin Zona. Before that I smelt _______, for once.
Connection is not equal to completion: We imagine two characters of the poem speaking to understand that the rest of the poem will demonstrate what 'it' is.
I shook poem writing and a Steve Halle fell out; hardly big enough. I fiddled with his pinion gear, pulled back his string, and let him go whizzing around. I couldn't help running alongside, remembering his poem on asses, only to contemplate my own glutious maximus poems.
Connection is not equal to completion: There is no discussion about how these events made/make the speaker feel, or the more far reaching implications of the father's jar of sea glass or the mother's broken arm, but we are connected to the subjects not just because of their presentness.
I shook poem writing and a Kent Johnson fell out; hardly big enough. I read up on the ways of writing a "Mandrake" poem. I bent the binding way back, so to speak, smelled between the book's legs, so to speak, and began feasting on the glue, so to speak.
Connection is not equal to completion: Here, we are already asked to recall a moment that has not been recounted within the narration.
I shook poem writing and a Juliana Spahr fell out; hardly big enough. I got my rocks off on Fuck-You, diddled Response, and well, then there now. The fragrance filled my nostrils and came out the fingertips and wrote out of me! I tried to fly home but my propeller sought elsewhere.
Connection is not equal to completion, so I returned to cleaning the morels I found out in back: We may experience a sensation of balance at a glance, but this is fantasy, the instant need on our part to negotiate uncertainties in language.
The world was poetry, an endless series of readings filled days an evenings. Poetry happened in buildings. Poetry meant different things to different people in different locations. In Stevenson, poetry meant different things than it did in Whitten, which meant different things in uptown. Poetry found it's spotlight and it found.
I shook poem writing and a Joe Amato fell out; hardly big enough; poem writing. I made lists upon lists. On 12 September, Joe says "it's not about poetry on the page, it's about Poetry." On 21 October, Joe says "in 10 years you won't remember this course, but you will remember Joe." Pure something, that was. Pure sweetness and mutherfuckinglight.
Connection is not equal to completion: Bodies are present, but they are fragmented; hands, legs, and shoulders seem to come together to form intricate, if anonymous, connections. Position, more than anything else, is what matters . . . In other contexts where bodies are mentioned, balance is achieved, as men and women work together in confident sets of movement and interdependency that coalesce to the positioning of women as supporter and pinnacle.
I shook poem writing and a Kass Fleisher fell out; hardly big enough. How do I assemble poets? Can I cook them up in a big pot and let them funk up, or scrap them for parts? Can I design a room furnished with poets? A Kristin Prevalet on the wall; a Laura Mullen on the table?
Connection is not equal to completion: The period, the grammatical symbol that cleanly and clearly signifies the end of a new thought and the beginning of a new line or stanza, is ultimately inconclusive; we are left to fill in the gaps.
I shook poem writing and a Theresa O'Donnell fell out; hardly big enough. Something sticky at the bottom. of. the. bag . . . SHIT FUCKERY. My poetry bag spilt and leakd the wrds.
Connection is not equal to completion: This plurality of existences exists in the unsteady relationships between people, an illusion of a unified 'culture,' what Foucault calls the 'strategic field of power relations' as both building sit for configurations between people and the unsteady and inconclusive ground of our connectivity.
I shook poem writing and a Holms Troelstrup fell out; hardly big enough. Are you ten years ago, too? My mirror reflects a Kirstin Zona. Before that I smelt _______, for once.
Connection is not equal to completion: We imagine two characters of the poem speaking to understand that the rest of the poem will demonstrate what 'it' is.
I shook poem writing and a Steve Halle fell out; hardly big enough. I fiddled with his pinion gear, pulled back his string, and let him go whizzing around. I couldn't help running alongside, remembering his poem on asses, only to contemplate my own glutious maximus poems.
Connection is not equal to completion: There is no discussion about how these events made/make the speaker feel, or the more far reaching implications of the father's jar of sea glass or the mother's broken arm, but we are connected to the subjects not just because of their presentness.
I shook poem writing and a Kent Johnson fell out; hardly big enough. I read up on the ways of writing a "Mandrake" poem. I bent the binding way back, so to speak, smelled between the book's legs, so to speak, and began feasting on the glue, so to speak.
Connection is not equal to completion: Here, we are already asked to recall a moment that has not been recounted within the narration.
I shook poem writing and a Juliana Spahr fell out; hardly big enough. I got my rocks off on Fuck-You, diddled Response, and well, then there now. The fragrance filled my nostrils and came out the fingertips and wrote out of me! I tried to fly home but my propeller sought elsewhere.
Connection is not equal to completion, so I returned to cleaning the morels I found out in back: We may experience a sensation of balance at a glance, but this is fantasy, the instant need on our part to negotiate uncertainties in language.
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