Forever Home [2012]

roadkill [2010]

often the corpses are literally unrecognizable:

just cracked twists of excruciation

tossed to decay in pools of themselves

                betrayals of their own apparent dexterities

if only these nameless animals 

could have been persuaded from 
seeking publication

Music Video: HERMIT "Chant Down the Cormorant" [2016]

the walls of Rose [1991]

clear droplets of a dream

drip from the tip of the green garden hose

which has just washed clean

the ceiling and the walls of Rose

time-swollen anger and love and confusion

have passed compassion and perception with implosion

everybody knows

yet apathy still grows

and the children stand on their toes

looking in through the window
at the walls of Rose

me [2009]

this gruesome, gurgling gut funk

should never be mistaken

(at any great or lesser distance)

for another man's malady

understand! 
I am this stench

G[ ]MM -- "Etude #017 (theme for frame of reference)" [2016]

Landscape Six [2016]

18 years (artifacts) [2010]

(speakers not speaking)

(languages catalogued in milk crates)

(a copper El Dorado

languishing on blocks)

(an outside chance

packed in moth balls)

(a trunk chained shut)

                                                     (newspapers bundled in lore)

(a rug rolled and leaning

against a pile of fetish properties)

(twelve-inch portraits

labeled and alphabetized)

(electronics left unplugged)

                                                                                  (shelves collecting shelves)

(twice forgiven instruments 

lingering again)

(18 sights wrapped in trash bags

away from all looking)

(weights gaining with age)

                                       (supports deconstructed and rusting)

(several small animal skeletons

meticulously reassembled)

(aptitudes stacked six high

and eight across)

(a bruised friendship on ice)

                                                     (two corpses rotting on the same slab)

                                                            these are representative

of the sounds and visions

                                                             and little murders

of me

                                                             but they are nothing

other than THIS

to the chronicling process

of now

weekly

                                                                    they persist

                                                                 in becoming more

  like artifacts

                                                                          buried

in the compounding dust

                                                                 of an unforeseen 
                                                                                     future

(labor) X (rhetoric) : playacting "identity", in PRELUDE and one SCENE [2012]

Characters:

M - a disembodied, narrating voice

N - a disembodied, narrating voice

T - a poet

A - a body/voice

G - a body/voice

U - a body/voice

Setting:

Now

Location:

Inside a circuit

✽     ✽     ✽     ✽     ✽

PRELUDE:

T walks out to the center of the empty stage, turns to face the

audience, and recites a poem.

T: we are

notes in anticipation of

so many poems

is looking for

an obvious way to be content with

strain     I am an outlaw disorder

tripping a light     and easy

sending witness to the day standing up

a philosopher

now there is no

way to play colors against what's good here

this is working     they are dirty me

alive in the hope that I might be now

at the site of the book     normal joy

of me me me

they might get past the truth

it is really entertainment treated

as if a bad voice were waiting with it

checking here     I live my way in them

so that this is person

we are notes

in anticipation 

of so many poems

T exits stage, leaving it once again empty.  The overture begins to play.  Throughout the duration of the overture, A, G, and U take turns walking back and forth across the stage, occasionally stopping to make abstract hand gestures toward the ceiling, always with their backs to the audience.  When the overture ends, they clear the stage.

END PRELUDE

✽     ✽     ✽     ✽     ✽

SCENE:

The sound of the circuit rises.  The image of a face appears on the projection screen.  A, G, and U enter.  G is carrying a trumpet.  The three characters mill about aimlessly, as if in a trance, occasionally bouncing off of one another, but they never make any further attempts at engagement.

A: In the half-light, it is difficult to tell whether or not those
     passing before me are alive.

U: Weaving in and out between the parked fire trucks introduced him
     to a new process.

A: The smell of skunk permeated the entire block.

U: He was having a hard time understanding the decisions that had
     been made in his name.

G: A noise is music, and so on. 

(blows a note on the trumpet)

U: What is this sticky substance on the bottom of my shoe?

A: Is that really the only way one might turn?

U: She is determined to fall forward as she walks.  I, too, am  
     top heavy.

A: He found that he preferred his holes in circles, and black.

U: I don't care about where I'm going, or where I'm going to be.   
     I just want to run.

A: This environment is comfortable and fosters communication.

U: So... I got a call from him, and he was crying.

G: He arrived in the room as if he had just been dismissed.

(blows a note on the trumpet)

A: Reading this might remind you of things you've never done.

U: What must it be like to be a refugee among unforgiving consumers?

A: I would paint her if colors could communicate her hair.

U: That smile is no convincing disguise.  I'm not fooled by your  
     hat, either.

A: She is a pleasant embodiment of animal instinct and confusion.

U: Other people are working on their poems at the same time.

A: I am not alone in my desire to be somewhere other than this.   
     She is frowning.

U: I've come for the loneliness, and the tart beverage, but  
     certainly not the generic reggae music.

A: She carried herself like a turn-of-the-century British stage  
     actress.

At this point, A, G, and U, stop their meandering, and each grabs a chair.  They place the chairs in a straight line beside one another, facing the backstage area at stage left, and they each sit down and gaze attentively into the darkness of the wings.

M: I haven't felt this good since the day my dad came home from
     Vietnam.  I'm basking in a real sense of accomplishment, like
     I've done something they might not forget for a hundred years,
     or more.  Of course, there's still lots of work to do,and X's
     going to owe me a lot of money when I'm finished.  He'll see
     the value, just like the next person, and he'll open up his wallet
     accordingly.  You know, I might even take a shower now that I'm
     finished, then put on my fancy shirt and sit on the porch for all
     the neighbors to see and admire.  I can look handsome, too, if
     that's what I set out to do.  My mom dressed me up real nice the
     day my dad came home from Vietnam, and she even cried looking at
     me.  That's how good I can look!  Yeah, I haven't felt this good
     in a long time.

G jumps up and blows some loud notes on the trumpet, while A and U slink out of their chairs and begin wandering again.  G then joins the wandering, as well.

U: I have determined, after years of carefully executed research,
     that books are uncomfortable with me.

A: He said something about joy in relation to Buddhism.

U: Apparently, the guy is involved in everything, and he is so  
     glad to see you.

A: His appearance distracted her just long enough for her to be  
     overwhelmed.

U: I might fall asleep to the sound of his voice if I weren't  
     inspired to kill him.

A: He was propped-up by a 5-foot iron rod, and a rusty wire mesh.

U: I was happy to have their unpleasant language removed from my  
     soundtrack.

A: What is she waiting for?

U: His is a burden that was carefully chosen from a closet full of
     heavy items.

As A and U continue wandering silently, G stops and takes time to move the three chairs, one by one, into identical positions on the opposite side of the stage.  Once the chairs are all moved, the three wanderers make their ways to their respective seats, and then begin staring blankly into the wings.

A: The clothing that I wear calls into question a series of wounds.

U: Quotation marks bring attention to those words and phrases that
     require a closer reading than others.

G: Attention is less than compensation.

(blows a note on the trumpet)

N: I have previously mentioned a small, fortified island with a
     lighthouse and a catacomb of tunnels beneath it, but this is
     nothing like that.  This is almost beyond description, but not
     quite.  Also, I failed to mention the presence of two small
     rabbits, who have been darting in and out of the shadows at the
     corners of the stage.  There is a black one, with a white tail
     and a brown mohawk; and there is a "peaches and cream"-colored
     one who has thumped at me on several occasions.  I wonder if
     they are friendly, and I wonder to whom they belong.  This is
     a strange place, not unlike the fortified island.

G jumps up and attempts to blow a sound through the trumpet, but nothing comes out.  He wanders away confused, fidgeting with the horn.  Then, A and U stand and make their ways over to the edge of the stage, where they sit with their legs dangling over, looking directly into the audience.

U: She is speaking in one language, while he is communicating in  
     another.

A: The people through glass are beyond my journalistic reach.

U: A deep-dish pizza with green peppers and mushrooms would be  
     delicious right about now.

A: He appeared to be a superhero in search of a costume.

U: I've never previously encountered such a passion for talking on
     the phone.

G: (still wandering) If I were to go downstairs, I would be beneath
     him.

U: An oversized orange branch hung down behind the preoccupied man.

A: The response he provided was attractively insignificant, and
  this suited her just fine.

U: I would much rather participate in an extended public discourse
     on the current state of professional wrestling than speak to you
     privately about poetry.

A: The beard was a bad idea made manifest on his sweaty face.

U: The difference between her hips was purely astonishing.

A: Spitting on the sidewalk is a crime I might commit.

U: A relatively well-endowed man just disappeared behind a narrow
     column, and I can't see why.

G walks up and sits down beside the other two at the edge of the stage, still fiddling with his horn.

G: I am inspired by animals and petty thievery.

(stares at the trumpet)

A: My goal is to reach the bottom of the page before I commit to
     leaving.

U: Time is not a significant consideration.

T enters stage and moves in directly behind the three seated characters.  A brief poem is recited.

T: some have found their ways out

through windows and air ducts

I'm escaping them now

I am holding X to my breast

T exits, leaving the other three seated at the edge of the stage, staring into the audience, legs swaying and kicking.  After a beat or two, G jumps up and blurts out one last triumphant note on the trumpet.  The sound of the circuit fades.  The image of the face disappears.

END SCENE

Olive [2010]

is

a rusted tin of invalid buttons  
                         lost

illusion occupies me { } and the moonrise above The Ugly Mug (monograph) [2013]

cut clean [2009]

[…]

arterial cables

and

vein tangles

harnessed my love

to an aberrated     

obligation

[…]

yesterday     

when it was recognized

(this familial arrest)

and the manipulation was severed

hers was a debilitating

cut clean

[…]

and I am weak to stop the bleeding

[…]

witness [2010]

swelling from the grip of temperate shame

he glanced across his due-East distance

and in a corner beside an occupied cubicle

he bent to beg the gracious mercy of Allah and a poet

poem [2010]

this riddled obscurity

this divining genius

is through a venerated rod to me

           it is an endowment of faith           
            and I am humble its scribe

Quarters of Probably [2016]

G[ ]MM -- "Etude #016 (a conversation with Jimmy Giuffre's goose)" [2016]

Questionnaire [2010]

(prepared by Paul Blackburn, for Paul Blackburn, in 1962; 
completed by GMM, in 2010, with a nod to Marcel Proust)

What is your motto?

hear all of the real

What is for you the summit of misery?

being subjected to the unreasonable behaviors 

of those related to me

Where would you like to live?

I would prefer to live in a heavily fortified     top floor warehouse loft

in a densely populated American city

with quick access to a thriving art and music scene

and a well-conceived     emergency escape plan

                                    (to be initiated only in the case of a zombie apocalypse

                                    or extreme boredom)

What is your ideal of earthly happiness?

time alone with an intriguing pile of unheard records

and/or

relaxing in a temperature-controlled climate

with no scheduled commitments

For which faults have you the greatest tolerance?

I am quite tolerant of my own raging ageism

Who is your favorite fictional figure?

Alfred Chamberlain

Who are your favorite living women?

Joan Fontaine     Alice Notley     Pauline Oliveros

and my wife

Who are your favorite fictional women?

Gretta Conroy     Maxine Faulk and Hannah Jelkes     Carol White

and that composite Pat and I created     borrowing equally from: 

Janeane Garofalo

Lili Taylor

and Tina Fey

Who is your favorite painter?

Willem de Kooning

Who is your favorite musician?

Living: Rabih Abou-Khalil  Dead: David Tudor

What quality do you most admire in a man?

the ability to interact with other human beings

without any macho pretense

in a woman?

her Rump

What virtue do you most admire in a man?

trustworthiness

  in a woman?
           patience

What occupation would you most enjoy?

NFL fullback

What person would you like to be?

at different times in my life     I've wanted to be

John Riggins

Pete Townshend

Charles Bukowski

Bill Laswell  
           and Merce Cunningham

but these days     I'm content being someone else

What do you consider to be the principal trait of your character?

ignorance (how could it be anything else?)

Which trait of character do you appreciate most in your friends?

reclusiveness

What is your principal fault?

it lies just beneath me

and above me

it is before me

and behind me

to my left

and to my right

it is almost entirely within me

and without me...

What is your dream of happiness?

being on the run

well equipped

armed

and alive

What would be for you the greatest unhappiness?

being forced to ceaselessly relive my brief stint as a steel worker

Which color do you prefer?

pine green     but shit brown is lovely

which flower?

the bule spinster

which bird?

mallard

Who are your favorite prose authors?

Mark Twain     Trevanian     Robert Kirkman

Who are your favorite poets?

Charles Olson     Samuel Beckett (A Piece of Monologue and Not I ARE poems!)

Dorothy Parker     etc.

Who are your favorite real-life heroes?

Jules Feiffer and everyone involved in his Little Murders

Who are your favorite heroes in history?

as a child     I experienced obsessions with Sojourner Truth and Anwar Sadat

Nikola Tesla seems like he was probably pretty neat    

how about the four protesting college students who died on the campus of 
           Kent State University on 05/04/70? (the day I was born)

heroines?

Sojourner Truth was a woman

and I'm pretty sure two of the slain Kent State students were female

also: Barbara Jordan and Anita O'Day

oh... oh... OPRAH!

What above all do you detest?

the music of Toby Keith and the films of Sacha Baron Cohen

Which historical character do you most despise?

is Rupert Murdoch history yet?

Which military act do you most admire?

in retrospect     The Bay of Pigs seems pretty spectacular

most despise?

yes

What reform do you most admire?

Top 5: 1. Gang of Four

2. Mission of Burma

3. Television

4. The Jesus Lizard

5. X

What gift of nature would you like to have?

an endless variety of fresh cheeses

or

whatever my wife would like

How would you like to die?

slowly     so that I might get the opportunity to say a proper goodbye

What is your present state of mind?

properly finished
goodbye