{rhetoric} X [identity] (manual) "G. Matthew Mapes" [2011]

For Carla Harryman

                                                    "Where do you think you're going?"

⎡ ⎤

⎣ ⎦

I've not stopped being

any of the Xs

I am

and

this creates me

exhausted and unfamiliar

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"No one has come forward yet, and said

authoritatively, what maybe I should

say to myself.  I don't know."

-- Theodore Enslin

there are many different types that I am interested in     

disposing of "content" is more difficult than generating it     

I assumed that it was beautiful and I was correct     

why was I in XXXXX's parents' home in last night's dream?     
     (what was I hoping to achieve?)     

I imagine myself as a single square in an immense plaid pattern     

why are there so many "light and sculpted" beards?     (they're hardly there)     

perhaps the mystery is being removed from the process     and this is a vital element     

the "I" is less prevalent in later chapters

am I no longer listening?    

if I encountered him now     I would no longer allow him to pass     

perhaps I should alphabetize the library     (this could be the "disorder")     

if you follow the directions     all the necessary information will be revealed

something is wrong     though it is almost nothing     

my shoulders are not sharp or frail     (I could not crush them in my hands)     

what might I see if I bothered to look?     

I must resume the search for it... 

{I stood on the tips of my sneakers, attempting to balance on the edge of the air conditioning unit, and XXXX was on the ground next to me, spotting me, looking up with eager eyes.  The light had just gone on in her room, and, through the frosted window pane, she began to undress before me.  (I think XXXX might actually have been drooling in anticipation.)  I whispered to XXXX (lying), indicating that she had left the room, so that I might enjoy the "show" all for myself.  And, as her bra and panties came off, I was truly "alone".}

...(the ellipsis is a whore...  fuck her!     or... pimp her)     

time?     what the hell good is that going to do me?     

tickling is a re-engagement with strangeness     

if only this were as "easy" as blowing my horn     (wait... that became quite difficult)     

I wish things were as simple as the symbols we wear     (I might pout and smoke)     

empty seats are preferred     after considering what might fill them

if only I were unfortunate enough not to know it     this is cyclical in nature

I miss the team     (we're all just individual players now     free agents who won't be signed)
sometimes a smile is all that is necessary     (or a dumb look)

he must be perceived as a fantastic companion     (but I know better)     

I am too easily stunned when I'm sitting in public areas     

why do I not want to be right and/or good?     

I might just suck on a Slurpee and get fatter     sicker     and deader     

I need a sandwich...

[I am the as-yet-unknown entity.  I have fabulous taste in music, as well as literature, art, 
movies, fashion, and architecture.  I am what they all aspire to be.  I am a teacher, and an 
artist.  I am sophisticated, and I am dangerous in more than one way.  I am also mysterious, 
and nearly unidentifiable.]

...and the object was something that should be objected to     too     

green is something to carry the weight and moisture     but it is not a sponge     

another was grinning in fishnet stockings     

there was a welcome mat outside the door which read: "this is working"

this is working     this is working     this is working

I should wake up tomorrow and get to the gym     (or go right now)     

why can't I seem to reconcile my contrasting arguments?     

there is a bowl of steaming clam chowder awaiting me in the foyer     

the other eye is crying at the same time

left and right are not the same as they once were     (understanding is trouble)

I occasionally mistake the sound of her voice for that of a cuica     

a dozen young people spoke of their experiences and lied     

he claimed to be burning more calories "standing up"     

it was off-putting to see him exposing himself like that     

the bulk of him appeared below the belt line     

"they" are polite and cordial as they greet "them"     what are "they" selling?

"I went away to see an old friend of mine     his sister came

over     she was out of her mind     she said: 'Jesus had a twin

who knew nothing about sin'     she was laughing like crazy

at the trouble I'm in     her light eyes were dancing     she is

insane     her brother says: 'she's just a bitch     with a golden

chain'     she keeps coming closer saying: 'I can feel it in my

bones     schizophrenia is taking me home'"

[some have been happy from the beginning     smiling

(I'm confusing them now)

I am witnessing the "first" in relation to all ten]

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X

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"I don't look on poems as closed works.
  I feel they're going on all the time in my head,
 and I occasionally snip off a length."

-- John Ashbery

his are words which are not unlike mine     (and his music is)    

apparently     the thought process is stifled by this     

his waist is narrow but his ass is packed into those slacks     

there is romance between a pair of unlikely men     

these two were "here" on Tuesday     when first I noticed "them"...

"I HEAR YOU'VE BEEN HAVING TROUBLE WITH

PIGS AND PONIES.  (...)  Everything in the universe is 

made of one element, which is a note, a single note.  Atoms 

are really vibrations, you know, which are extensions of 

THE BIG NOTE.  Everything is one note -- everything, even 

the ponies.  The note, however, is the ultimate power.  But

see, the pigs don't know that; the ponies don't know that..."

...orange and black swirls swallow two pairs of untied white sneakers     
     (sneakers?!  more like sneezers!)     

uh oh...     someone's a "deep philosopher" now    

the heat is an oppressive breeze around my ears     

it's beginning to sound like a fucking arcade in here     

what does it mean to be up high in the chair?     low?     

this morning I was scrambled and fed to me     

perhaps you should use that hat to cover your ass     

some have connected me to language and the food poets     

let me sidle up to this wood and take a listen     

she found it for free on the internet and smiled     

given that you are leaving     might I now occupy your space?     

what can be seen through the lenses of your glasses?    

the glass featured a fur-lined rim and abandonment issues     

would you strut into the room without your cocky gun?     

if this person coughs one more time     I'll scream a warning shot

                              try not to look like you're dying     especially if you are leaving

somebody will probably appreciate seeing you again     if not     become invisible     

and forget about it promptly     

bitch face is becoming an epidemic of strict proportions and that is it     
     except for stupid face     
wasting time is written down in blue ink and strangled

he told me about a poem he had written     in which he envisioned himself as 
     the keeper of a military lighthouse on a small island     

this round body has been objectified     rendered solid and inaccurate     

I think you might disappear if you managed a smile     

crying is where I was when I occupied a constriction and was pinched     

there are many ignorant shoes to contend with

sitting "here" subjects me to an ending series of cycles     

if I were to live in Michigan     I would be cold in here...

[In the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu mentions something about becoming one with 
the dust of the earth.  This concept has always been appealing to me, because it 
offers a deeply spiritual excuse for shirking the duties of house cleaning.  However, 
more importantly, I think it rather succinctly addresses matters of personal hygiene, 
and blind, trusting uniformity.]

...put it to your ear and let the light illuminate your temples     

you might as well be crawling at that smoking speed     

sometimes one is so slight     she could not possibly be two     

sometimes one is so fat     he is two     

this is bad mathematical health and concerns 2, 1, and zero     

welcome to the loneliness parade     starring specters and thieves     

his kindness was insignificant to the holes in her jeans     

ignoring this is a way to walk through the room

       it is important to appear as if you've just been lifting heavy objects and masturbating

without a chin     your lower lip is helpless     

it is difficult to determine which ballad is a professor     

fashion is an illness     like bitch face     

I would embrace my books if I'd forgotten how to communicate     

this "voice" is not a color of me     dripping from a taut canvas     

I'd fall down in those boots and attend to nothing else

from the first word to the next is an improvised noncoherence     and an inconsistency

this is purple like the phone in my pocket is swollen     

try not to poke yourself in the eye with your chin     

hate is a language with no barriers     

the language within it is not practiced     and the sound is anxiety     

I have arrived at another end of me...

{I trembled with anger as I tried to remain "hidden" in the bedroom.  The argument outside the door grew increasingly heated, and I knew it was just a matter of time before I would have to assert myself.  (Occasionally, it actually seemed like XXXXX was baiting me.)  I wondered where XXXXX was, and why he wasn't attempting to intervene.  After a few minutes, I believed things were about to get violent, and I knew if that happened, my wife wouldn't stand a chance.  So, I could no longer resist the temptation:  I threw open the door, jumped between the two women, and unleashed a primitive, guttural scream.  And, at that moment, I was fully prepared to kill.]

...pink has announced its candidacy and is therefore blue

                                                     that many jokes must be a crowd

what did I almost catch that becoming?     

an unspecified amount of time is spent going from room to room     exercising 
     my driving interest     
when freedom is early achieved     adjustments must be made in your waiting schedule 
     in order to accommodate for the extra asshole     

there is a moment when my eyes are closed     and I'm afraid to reopen them

[some are silly     or even nonsensical

(I'm appealing to them now)

I am scrutinizing "reason" as it hems and haws]

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"The work of art 'itself' does not exist, only

incommensurable social contexts through

which it emerges and into which it vanishes."

-- Charles Bernstein

"Ladies and gentlemen, there are seven acknowledged

wonders of the world; you are about to witness the eighth.

Standing in the spotlight on showcase are twelve young men

who've given you such tunes as: 'XXX XXXXX', 'XXXX 

XXX XXXX', 'XXXXX XXXX XXXX'.  Ladies and 

gentlemen, without no doubt, these are XXX XXs.  Hit it."

I     too     have two pops and an asiago sandwich to contend with     

this is like picking berries or crossing a bridge     

we've manipulated understanding     hairstyles     and turning around     

"what's good?" is the worn-out hip-hop look and being tired     

smile and here they come again with giggles and bright colors     

it is a brave act to cross the room with one bare foot     

my grandmother was a slight woman whose shoulders felt brittle in my hands     

how would you cut it     you incompetent fuck?!     

weakness is a celebration     

eating is eating and the library basement is consumed...

[I will now take stock of everything on my person:  a pocket-sized notebook; an extra-fine-point, blue ink pen; a black retractable pencil with 0.5 lead; a red, retractable eraser; a clear plastic, flexible ruler; a hiking and hunting compass; an old-fashioned stopwatch; an artist's sketch pad; a coon-skin cap; a pair of grey Hanes boxer-brief underpants; a brown leather trifold wallet; a black, fine-tooth comb; a pair of size 13 Nike tennis shoes; a sweat-soaked, navy blue pocket-tee; a key ring, containing seven keys; a slightly used magic wand; a set of red and green paper clips; a back brace; a copy of Merriam-Webster's New Abridged Dictionary; a portable cheese grater; a pair of khaki cargo shorts with a 44-inch waist; a 50-inch brown leather belt; a copy of the "Jesus Christ Superstar" soundtrack, on cassette; a purple cell-phone (turned off); two white tube socks; a white gold wedding band; a "get out of jail free" card; three long-stemmed carrots (borrowed).]

...this is "notes in anticipation of so many poems"

                                       how might I better listen to your barely breathing?

there must be somebody I could call (my friend)     (what is the number?)

                                which is the correction to be placed approximately here?

it is not made of rubber or latex     and it is not shiny     

dozens of doorknobs have gone cold in my hands     but I am not deterred     

the only issue now is the "waiting"     

my fear of teenage girls manifested itself as indifference (thankfully)     

this is not "really" a conversation     

"normal" text contains the inner-most thoughts of the character     

why am I not invisible?     

sometimes there is nothing in common but beer and hockey     

his hat appeared to be a well-groomed head of hair     

he weighed the pros and cons of taking on another roommate     

the papaya treats were his favorite     and he kept several bags of them around the apartment
sleeping is nearly impossible when sinking into the green...     

{I entered the dark, one room cabin which I had inherited from my deceased parents, and I walked across the warped wooden floor to the stove in the corner.  I looked up to find dust dancing on a beam of light, and realized that there was a small crack in the ceiling.  The illumination allowed me to see that the stove's pipe was crooked and covered in soot, and that a few charred logs still remained in its belly.  Also, the familiar round table beside me was missing a leg, and it appeared ready to collapse beneath the weight of a few mismatched dishes.  I pulled out the one remaining chair, and it creaked as I sat down.}

...snoring is sometimes accompanied by whispering voices     

I remember when conversations had two (too) obvious sides     

sometimes a bare midriff exposes more than the belly button     

I might corral these people according to sex     line them up in straight lines 
     along opposite walls     hose them down with a 5-hour energy drink     
     and then force them to engage one another     
this is a perfunctory courtesy     

where in the world might one hang his jacket if all the designated hooks are taken?

contrary to a previously expressed opinion     it has been determined that "it" is 

  blasphemous and black     

if I were fatigued     I would be either exhausted     and/or well camouflaged     

even if you are already hungry     you should wait for the "entertainment" to arrive     

if you continue to look in that direction     a mariachi band might appear     

the bajo sexto is projecting surprisingly well

                          and then they all gathered around to witness the death of attention

is the bajo sexto fretted?

I will now take this opportunity to dance

[some have had their arts hijacked     without their knowledge

(I'm telling them now)

I am observing how the "stems" taper into rhyme]

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"'I', the dreamer-observer, experience no 

self-consciousness.  I exist as if absorbed 

into an audience, or as if no one at all."

-- Lyn Hejinian

I have ventured out into the noise in search of an operable language     

the blue jug before the break contained potable water     

it offers a subtle introduction to a woman they refer to as a god-fearing     gun-toting 

  former beauty queen     

when he became too sick to take care of himself     he sought the assistance of a friend     

he had an unwillingness to compensate for lost income     

her innocent recommendation unleashed in him something previously repressed     

  something "bad"     

the obstacles before me are mostly unseen     and are extremely hazardous     

I'm being challenged in ways that seem contradictory to my nature...

[I might appreciate a little recognition, here.  I really feel like I could do something right now; something fucking important!  And, I would pound my fist on the door jam a thousand fucking times, if I thought it would force you to take notice.  (It probably wouldn't.)  Or, I could bust right through it, into the laundry room (where I always feel appreciated), but then I'd have to put a load in, and I just don't have time for that shit right now.]

...one thing that I appreciate is the distraction and disconnection provided by 
     the matter at hand

I've had a lot of fun instructing people to turn left

he indicated that he might feel great joy if permitted to run a bayonet through 

  a Buddhist priest's guts

              we feel a constant need to draw lines     and to dare others to cross them

I am a loud-mouthed ex-football player with a penchant for internet porn     

we have been surrounded     for weeks     by a platoon of armed women     

these are the expressed opinions of "me"     and those who directly influence "me"     

others believe there are characteristics which indicate that this neoteric terror is cut from 

the same cloth as our old favorites     

it is methodically slow     may be missing one or more of its appendages     
     and its approach will be preceded by the unmistakable stench of death     

it is important to understand the differences in appearance     thought capacity     
     and vulnerability     
the data showed that the greatest percentage of changes occurred during 
     the control treatment     
lemon and steak seasoning were applied to it     and it was delicious     

I look forward to finding out whether or not this trend will continue...

{I was walking around in what appeared to be downtown Detroit (no, it was downtown Detroit), and I was wearing XXXXX's pink winter jacket.  I was pretending to be crippled, and this felt like some sort of defense mechanism.  As I wandered farther away from what I considered my "safe destination", I grew increasingly small and insignificant.  The landscapes I was traversing grew more and more burned out, like those in the film, Omega Man.  At one point, I came to a "dead end", and I had to turn back.  Eventually, I had the idea to call a cab, but when I reached into my wallet (an almost infinite chasm), all I could find was a nine dollar bill.  So, I dove in and pulled it shut behind me.}

"heads down     down to the floor     lock up the windows 

and close the door     whatever you do     stay calm     show

me a ditch and I'll dive in it     I'll feel safe beyond the cares

of the world"

...within this realm     the sound of a simple coin flip can be menacing     

I am realizing that there are certain inaccuracies involved in the turning of the page

                                            the room smelled like dill and asparagus piss

he scraped the remainder of the melted cheese from his plate     

where have all the questions gone?     

the furniture and floors are beaded with moisture     and one begins to wonder whether 
     this implies drowning

it is reliant upon antiquated ideals     and overblown pompous rituals

I am subjected to the alienation of labor     (I am standing "apart" from this)     

leverage is occasionally gained by employing "hope"     

leave me alone     I've no time for your exhausting attempts to disguise yourself     

this is utilizing food and humor to assist in shedding light on a controversial subject     

I spend way too much time cultivating the other "me"s     

this is relentless     and awe inspiring     and pointless

[some are afraid of the journey      and the room

(I'm scaring them now)

I am shaking the "road" for bones and ashes]

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"The mind's recall is tied to the making of
 the future (as our physical, factual capacity)."

-- Leslie Scalapino

CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE

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"I've been trying to train myself for thirty or forty 

years not to believe anything anyone tells me."

-- Alice Notley

being tired is something that suits my abilities     

I missed her at the elevator     and at the bottom of the stairs     

some are easy     while others wear masks and robes     

where are you going to spend eternity?     (this is a song)     

quite a few have come to look     and have been turned away     

this nature has nothing to do with trees or the beatings I have endured

                   without the required "base" knowledge     his future plans seemed crippled

illness can arise when your meat is not properly seasoned     

he finished the first bowl     and then immediately desired a second     

if he had taken the time to properly review the material     it would not be 
     confusing him so
there were elephants     hippos     and other large animals waiting for him at the gate    

     later     when he thought no one was looking     he let them in...

{And now, a historically accurate documentation of "the rules" (and our "relations"), 

     in list form:

01. All requests for money (any amount) required both written and oral presentations. 

          (Result being that we never had any money for anything, including field trips, 

          lunch, etc.)

02. NEVER leave the door open behind you, regardless of the situation. ("We're not 

          heating/cooling the outside!")

03. We were never allowed, until after high school graduation, to be "out" past 

          10:00 PM. (When this rule was lifted, I stayed "out" for three days straight.)

04. No friends were allowed in the house when the parents were not at home. 
          (This rule was strenuously ignored.)

05. I was not allowed to drive any car until my eighteenth birthday. (Nor was 
          I allowed to take the driver's education course through school, where it was free.  
          Instead, I had to take a class during spring break of my senior year; walk 
          the four miles there and back every morning; and pay for it myself with 
          the money left over from a job I had been roped into during the previous 
          summer vacation.  If you can't already tell, this one left a sour taste in my mouth, 
          for a plethora of reasons.)

06. We were not allowed to have people in our rooms without leaving our doors open. 
          (This made the quest to "get laid" extremely difficult.)

07. My father always had his dinner served to him first, even if he was late.  (We had 
          many cold dinners because of this rule.)

08. Before any trip to the hospital, my father had to be certain that the suffered illness 
          or injury could not be "fixed" by him.  (He attempted to reset my broken arm; 
          dig shards of glass out of my knee with a set of needle-nose pliers; and bathe me in 
          a tub full of ice cubes to lower a 104 degree temperature.)

09. My brother and I had opposite "days" on which we controlled 
          the television viewing.  (However, when Dad wanted to watch something, this rule 
          no longer applied.)

10. There was never any "sleeping" past 9:00 AM on the weekend.  (I was often dragged 
          from bed earlier than this to accompany my father to Murray's, a local 
          hardware store.)

11. There was no eating allowed after 8:00 PM, unless, of course, it was to be done by 
          my father.  (Potato chips, popcorn, smoked sausage...)

12. Never, under any circumstances, were we to be seen in public without a shirt on. 
          (This is the only rule I remember being made by my mother.)

13. Any item that had been broken would be repaired, not replaced.  
          (To my father's credit, he was able to repair just about anything.)

14. The children were to do all of the household chores, short of the laundry.  
          (We were not to be trusted with my father's precious polyester.)

15. At the earliest possible age, we were to be registered for any and all available 
          athletic activities.  (This was fine by me, as I was athletically inclined, but 
          my brother suffered from a severe lack of physical coordination.  Therefore, 
          he experienced great misery and shame as a result of this rule.)

16. The family took one vacation together every summer.  (The final "vacation" 
          took place in a wooded parking lot outside of Ludington, Michigan, and lasted 
          an interminable ten days.)

(For a complete list of "the rules", please go to http://plasticpatternpeople.blogspot.com.)}

...what do you think?     

I realized that in order to get a better understanding of what had occurred behind me     
     I must first turn around

                                                   something has come to life behind me

I am filling in spaces with the necessary species     

a cool breeze might stagger the right runner     

ending "me" is so much more difficult than beginning "me"     

this is where I'll be     

she might call at any time     and we need to be on "the ready"     

where can I find a good pair of warm socks?     (I left the others in a pile of dirty laundry)     

this is also "dirty"     

what I have seen is not for you to understand     or even contemplate

tired is a good way of putting it     and I am in need of a good way

calm is not necessarily peaceful     

are all of these smiles smiling?     

                                                     I am the animal that was left out

alone is not a guarantee either     

enemies are also leaving     (accompanying friends to the outskirts)

earth tone swirls are in front of me and are making music     

listen to this one...

[I am a card collector.  I collect cards of rabbits and famous works of art.  I am a card.  I collect rabbits and works of art.  I am sentimental.  I am married to a gnome.  I am not married to another gnome.  I have a mother who is also sentimental, and was also once married to a gnome.  She is currently unmarried, though she is looking for a new gnome.  She is a card, and a collector.  She does not collect rabbits.  I am also the as-yet-unknown entity.  Do you feel like you're getting to know me any better?  How about my mother?  I am uncomfortable.  You must be.  My mother is sweating on her cards.]

...the painting is by XXXXXX XX XXXXXXX     the music is by "me"     

I am into more holes than I can currently count

the trouble with my standing in this environment begins with footwear     

what is the limit?     when might I stop to take a breath?   

why is it so far away     and so long?     

she approached my ankle with a silent grace     (this is what needs to be heard) 

why is it that aches are always so dull?  

after giving the matter much consideration     I now believe that I would actually 
     allow him to pass

I am back into the plaid     and I am square

this shit sure is dusty

listen

    

"nobody knows who the enemy is     'cause he never goes in 

hiding     he's slitting our throats right in front of our eyes

while we pull the casket he's riding"

      [some are infinitely missing     and still as a watched clock

(I'm forgetting them now)

I am reading poems about "fruit" and "trees"]

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"Subject matter is what you're writing about, 

the aboutness in the poem, 

so it's a poem about X..."

-- Ann Lauterbach

[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 corner of the room.  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.]

in the half-light     it is difficult to tell whether or not those passing before me are "alive"

weaving in and out between the parked fire trucks introduced him to a new process

the smell of skunk permeated the entire block

he was having a hard time understanding the decisions that had been made in his name

                                                         a noise is music     and so on

what is this sticky substance on the bottom of my shoe?

is that really the only way one might turn?

she is determined to fall forward as she walks     (I     too     am top heavy)

he found that he preferred his holes in circles     and black

I don't care about where I'm going or where I'm going to be     I just want to run

this environment is comfortable and fosters communication

so     I got a call from him     and he was crying

                                   he arrived in the room as if he had just been dismissed

reading "this" might remind you of things you've never done

what must it be like to be a refugee among unforgiving consumers?

I would paint her if "colors" could communicate her hair

that smile is no convincing disguise     (I'm not fooled by your hat     either)

she is a pleasant embodiment of animal instinct and confusion

other people are working on their poems at the same time

I am not alone in my desire to be somewhere other than this     (she is frowning)

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

she carried herself like a turn-of-the-century British stage actress     
     (Dame XXXXXX XXXXXXXX)

I have determined     after years of carefully executed research     that books are not 
     comfortable in the embrace of "me"

he said something about "joy" in relation to Buddhism

apparently     this guy is involved in everything     and he is so glad to see you     
     (don't look now     or you might not)

his appearance distracted her just long enough for her to be overwhelmed

I might fall asleep to the sound of his voice if I wasn't inspired to kill him

he was propped-up by a 5-foot iron rod     and a rusty wire mesh

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

what is she waiting for?     (she continues to wait)

his is a burden which was carefully chosen from a closet full...

{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 XXXX'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 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.}

...the clothing that I wear calls into question a series of wounds

quotation marks bring attention to those words and phrases which require 
     a closer reading than others

attention is less than compensation

she is speaking in one language     and he is communicating in another

the people through glass are beyond my journalistic reach

a deep-dish pizza with green peppers and mushrooms would be delicious right "now"

he appeared to be a superhero in search of a costume

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

                                     if I were to go downstairs     I would be beneath him

an oversized orange branch hung down behind the pre-occupied man

the response he provided was attractively insignificant     and this suited her

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 beard is a bad idea made manifest on his sweaty face

the difference between her hips was purely astonishing

spitting on the sidewalk is a crime I might commit     (I am a criminal)

a relatively well-endowed man just disappeared behind a narrow column     and I can't see why

                                             I am inspired by animals and petty thievery

my goal is to reach the bottom of the page before I commit to leaving     (time is not 

a significant consideration)

"and who     will write love songs for you     when I am

lord     at last     and your body is     a little highway shrine

that all     my priests     have passed"

[some move quickly into the rust     in orange jumpsuits

(I'm arresting them now)

I am splitting the "eye" with a pick axe]

X

X

X

"You've had experiences, you've had dreams,

you've had idle thoughts, you know.

  That's what I [mean] by being a new person."

-- James Tate

some person can talk consistently for long periods of time and not lose his breath     

     (however     this should not be seen as a skill)

I am not going to "be" fat anymore     and this has nothing to do with my health)

I might walk beside her if she can manage to keep me from running

"that" is more than I can tolerate this week

I could be a case study in a passing laundry basket if I were up to it

the pavement is red and the shoes are green     (this is the flag)

I'm leaving before another individual arrives...

[To whom it may concern:

I've come as an approved guest to your home, and I am stunned by the "life" you have managed to contain within it.  I feel very strongly that I would be able to sustain myself within your walls, and I commend you for your fine organizational efforts.  One thing I would like to mention, however, is the absence of edibles.  Would it not be possible to stock the back left corner with some crackers, or cookies, or possibly some beef jerky?  Also, a water fountain would be nice.  Of course, these are just suggestions.  Things are lovely, regardless.

Sincerely,

X. XXXXXXX XXXXX

Pass # 0856-55583]

...I've not felt this kind of pride in years     (I must be ill)

the man coming at me is both large and forgettable

when will I find another "way" into the good graces of the same woman

with my ear to the floor     I could make out a faint conversation

I am standing at the board     and I am "I"

                            this is what is going on when one makes reference to "faking it"

"we" are closed and I am too tired to open

the waiting room is the place where my legs started hurting     (there is nothing profound 

to be said about waiting)

I've read about a cold-hearted killer with a taste for Nilla Wafers     
     (I don't usually eat them)

                    there are people "here" from the "past"     (they are approaching "now")

an empty chair is many things to those not sitting

I don't believe "so" either     (I am thinking about lying)

I'd like to "have" one or more of the following statements...

"as easy it was to tell black from white     it was all that easy

to tell wrong from right     and our choices     they was few

so the thought never hit     that the one road we travelled

would ever shatter or split"

...suddenly     there was no more noise     only the sound of one child screaming     
     (I have the "past" to thank for this)

I am terrified of hydroplaning and slippage

I've just nothing to do with thinking in these circles     (I am coming around)...

{I stood in the music room, trembling in a most unfamiliar way.  I felt like I wanted to cry, and scream, and smash something to pieces with my bare hands, and evaporate into thin air.  I took the receiver down from my ear and placed it back in its carriage, staring blankly at the framed photograph on the wall before me.  It had been eleven years since we posed for that picture, and we looked like ignorant, lost children with that sign hanging behind us.  Who could have known, at that time, that the message on the sign would end up being so prophetic?  After taking a few minutes to regain my composure, I took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked back down the hallway to join the other guests.}

...a thin man is short     and I am tall     (we are reading from the same magazine)

                           impatience is an affliction     and the word is dangling before me

the surface was convenient     but rather unpleasant

at this point     I've grown fond of the waiting     (I've been forgotten/forgetting)

this painting is also a folk song and a documentary film

I have grown tired of noticing the difference

this is like gathering stock footage for a low-budget thriller

[some have found their ways out     through windows and air ducts

(I'm escaping them now)

I am taping the "hand" to the lever]

X

X

"Poetry is never comfortable in language

because the unconscious doesn't

know how to speak."

-- Russell Edson

their smiles concur with their disguises and intentions

contained within her plastic grocery bag were a roll of toilet paper     a box of saltines     

and an economy pack of venison jerky

I have a drinking problem     but I'm not an alcoholic   

what's left of the light is grey and bronze     and all the animals have assumed their 
     stuffed postures   upon shelves and speakers     

there should be something in here that I'll be able to use     

I've been tied before     but not since the '90s

                                   I've recognized several people I did not know until now

by all previous indications     mine is indeed mine     and yours is mine     

the barrel of her gun     which was aimed in my direction     was approximately 
     six inches from my watering left eye     

the intensity of missing him is becoming slightly disturbing     (he should be here)     

this is home...

"Is Mr. George home?     (...)     Hello...Mr. George?     (...)

This is your conscience, motherfucker!     (...)     Why don't

you leave motherfuckers alone?  What's wrong with you?

(...)     Huh?     (...)     Why can't we just dance?  Why can't 

we just dance?"

...her tan lines betrayed the "truth" of her topographical map     

structures taller than those currently standing will be demolished and rebuilt     

this should cost no more than one dollar and nine cents     

I am expensive     like pre-ripped designer jeans     or gourmet ice cream  

anticipating "the end" is a fond remembrance of distractions

                                 time spent together is often in observance of parallel times

a countdown is in effect until XX:XX PM

what we were talking about was evasion     (a simple matter of personal dignity)

a chemical fire was lit in a plastic cup     and they watched as it burned     melted     
     and evaporated their scientific perspectives

love is in need of love today

a study is being made of the relationship between a found syntax and the noise...

{I spent the evening cruising the social networking site, leaving witty comments attached to various photographs and other postings.  This became tedious after several hours, and I slowly came to realize that my right hand had become a stalk of celery.  My left hand followed shortly thereafter, and my head has just recently evolved into an eggplant.  This has been a transformative experience, and I have come to a better understanding of my needs:  I will cook when I am hungry for human contact.}

...the painting was in black and white     and she looked ugly in it

there is a snarling dog threatening to attack "them"     (and he is only the first to be 

properly identified)

I had an adverse reaction to the contraction of myself

           he smiled     and then managed to disappear into a mirror image of his happiness

this is a text not unlike a word     or the music that supports it

the animals postured in an attempt to be "treated" like morbidly obese people     
     (what is "people"?)

after making a half-hearted attempt to complete it     he quit...

[The new climate has begun producing major benefits:  After an eleven year hiatus, I have resumed my work with closed-circuit live-electronics.  Though I do not have access to the quality of equipment that I did back in the '90s, I have managed to make substantial progress utilizing the units that remain.  I have composed a new 4-song cycle, The Conversation EP, and I've even managed to collaborate with the reclusive poet, X. XXXXXXX XXXXX, who contributes a reading of two of his poems to a piece entitled "Lexicon".  He and I have become fast friends, and I anticipate a whole series of future collaborations.  However, he has warned me about his "criminal" tendencies, so I will try to create with those in mind.  This is simply a lovely time to be an artist, isn't it?]

...this is all about the resurrection of the reference     (it is cyclical)

he counted all of the beans on the table     as well as those found on the counter     
     and still     managed to come up short

ignorance served to blind the man as he went about his daily tasks

I've looked beneath the chair and the ottoman     and I've still not managed to 
     find enough change

reading from "the book" is often better than reading from "the site"     (this is 

a contemporarily formed knowledge)

the two men quibbled over mathematical terminologies     which was quite disconcerting

I've begun to appear less and less on the "page"     and have focused my energies more on 

the "live" environment

                                        his was a Cinderella story     so to speak

the young     curly-haired boy could barely breathe in his tight yellow jacket

I was born into a family from a long time ago     (this is "my" history)

he decided to remove the fencing     so that the rabbits could get through     
     (only a tangle of barbed-wire remained)

a friend is either a friend or an enemy

the photograph was taken at such a distance as to provide no solid evidence of 
     the man's identity

                                              why don't we wait until this all plays out?

good advice was about the best advice he could expect     given the current situation

I'm waiting

[some have indicated a desire to continue     even crippled

(I'm hobbling them now)

I am braising "vegetables" in motor oil]

                                                 x (syntax dump)

we are

notes in anticipation of

so many poems

                                                 [me] [them]

is looking for

an obvious way to be content with

strain     I am an outlaw disorder

tripping a sculpted light     and easy

sending witness to the day standing up

a deep 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 people

[them] [me]

we are notes

in anticipation

of so many poems

X

"My 'identity' is mine."

-- Anselm Hollo

getting from one word to the next is something of the problem with me

this retarded language of mine does not continue to inform itself

if I find again my place on the floor     I will curl up and cry for XXXXX

                      when I'm listening to the music that was made then     I can not hear it

I'm getting the impression of chambers     which do not contain it     (lit from behind)

fault trickles down a column of orange

what is waiting when that is what you've been doing?

she went from one point to the other     without tying her shoes

when asked to re-engage with strangeness     I made the same mistake

if he were to dial a phone and surprise someone with a call     someone might be 
     startled enough to pay attention

this is a relationship I do not have...

[A small group of us gathered in the parking lot, smoking filterless cigarettes and nervously exchanging our prepared, whitewashed anecdotes as friends and family members passed to enter the church.  Most of us were a little disheveled, and I myself hadn't bathed since I'd received the news.  It had been a week since XXXXX's unexpected death, and none of us were particularly eager to fulfill our duties, but when the hearse pulled around the corner and stopped beside us, we tossed our extinguished smokes into the bushes and formed two short lines at the tailgate.  As we removed the casket from the vehicle, someone coughed, and I suddenly realized that I'd forgotten to make the funereal mixtape.  Needless to say, I panicked.]

...an oppressive heat cornered him     stripping him of everything but his bones and hair

I've all but found an operable language here

they served meatballs with gravy     mashed potatoes     and some sort of jellied berry

                                 this is as important as the time you forgot your password

lung cancer reduced him to a mattress stain     (the boy cried without understanding why)

during his entire lifetime     he'd known nothing but indifference     so when she displayed 

a genuine concern for his well-being     he shifted in his seat and began to perspire

the book featured exercises designed to assist the beginning poet     (no advanced prompts)

I thought of canceling the appointment after my mother     quite unexpectedly     
     arrived from Kentucky with a truckload of returnables

the engine of a small airplane could faintly be heard in the distance

three shabbily dressed individuals gathered beneath the balcony to smoke     
     and fade away

a strong wind swirled about the room     so he secured his manuscript with the coffee pot

XXXXXX checked the invoice for a specific item     (he had not ordered 
     a dead two-year-old)

the incident occurred in a wading pool out by the interstate

four actors and a cameraman approached the median to film a pivotal scene

he had made several attempts to engage the masses with inane banter     
     (they did not seem to understand this coming from him)

                   she extended her technologically evolved hand in friendship     
                   and he knew no better

they inserted the leaf to extend the dining room table     so that they might accommodate 

the additional visitors

an animal was being observed through the scope of a high-powered rifle

several instructions had been scrawled on a tattered 3 x 5 card     (it was later found in 

the breast pocket of his t-shirt)

they installed a series of small lamps     so that they might be able to see one another

they were accosted by an old man in a fez as they waited to turn left

she sang "Lady Marmalade" from the kitchen window in an attempt to garner 
     some attention

instead of lifting weights     he spent the afternoon drinking wine     eating cheese     

and thinking about the many art projects he hadn't finished

he thought she might be sleeping in the next room     so he kept the noise to a minimum

she wanted to move all of her materials from a large storage space to a smaller one     
     (with one exception)

I am arranging the necessary characters for a genuine tragedy

                                                    is that another of your disguises?

eventually     it was difficult to hear the telephone man     (her long distance service 
     was faltering)

the blue gargoyle spread its wings and threatened to fly away

he posed for a portrait     (afterwards     the photographer made alterations to the image 
     in order to portray his subject as a patriot)

                              I have placed an order with another provider

the two of them added a scratch vocal to the track     and then went to dinner     
     (this was delicious)

braying is purple in the abbreviated sound spectrum

an envelope containing his written confession was mailed on Wednesday

waiting is now third on my list of priorities...

{Though I feel the proceedings would have benefitted from a soundtrack, the gathered audience actually seemed to appreciate the many awkward silences.  Several people exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses during one lengthy pause, and a large man in the back of the chapel even went as far as to crack a joke while the priest fumbled with the sacrament.  I think XXXXX would have enjoyed many of the comical aspects of his funeral service, but I'm fairly certain he would have been just as frightened as his family was when the men responsible for bringing the casket to the altar dropped it when halfway down the aisle.  (Apparently, one of the pallbearers freaked-out at the last minute, leaving only five to carry the heavy load.)  However, the accident was quite quickly accounted for, and it only took them a couple of minutes to get XXXXX's body back into its case.  After the ceremony, there was a lovely meal served in the church cafeteria.}

...a third party introduced them to their chosen fetishes

this is just another example of rhetoric overwhelming the elements it was initially 
     intended to enhance     (an abandonment of character would have been preferable)

why must we fight?

this black and white silence is strange evidence of you

the piece contains several references to his prior works

"Apes-Ma... Apes-Ma... Your cage is too dirty, Apes-Ma.

Remember when you were young, Apes-Ma, and you used

to break out of your cage?  Well, you know that you're not

strong enough to do that anymore...Apes-Ma, you're eating 

too much, and going to the bathroom too much.  Apes-Ma...

And Apes-Ma, your cage isn't getting any bigger, Apes-Ma."

[some remain unidentified     even mythical

(I'm telling their tales now)

I am holding "X" to my breast]

                                                                        "Not here."

❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋     ❋

X. XXXXXXX XXXXX

XXXX N. XXXXXX Ct.

XXXXXX, MI XXXXX

T XXX XXX-XXXX

xxxxxxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com

XXXX 2, XXXX

XXXXX XXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXX XXXXXXXX University

XXXX 

XXXXXXXXX, MI XXXXX

Dear XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX,

I want to thank you for all that you have done to challenge me and my writing.  Also, I want to apologize for the many sour expressions your challenges have inspired.  I assure you, I am better now because of them.  I look forward to the future.

Sincerely yours,

X. XXXXXXX XXXXX

P.S. -- Thanks for the crackers.