Monday, August 25, 2014

Green Arcade Books, Kevin Killian with Brian Blanchfield, Laura Moriarty, George Albon, and Brandon Som. April 11, 7pm,


The I was fore
under the treelike.
It uttered circles.
A megaphoned whisper.
Study of the vanished.
The copula on stilts.
Where the continents slough.
A speech act in the ladles.


Freedom flaps
reducing you to splinters
Kings to Queens.
We're duplicating all the functions you used to.
Some ancestor of K but less Kafkaesque.
All royalist humbug is all it is.
Marnie and the monotheists.
God had been made man.
The other attribute is to mise en scene.


I'm going to start with a poem.
by what was left behind.
     exchanging ong for som
resonator, Sundays, when time told bells.
Li Po translation called Oulipo.
erasure, the song, sung.
Truth bends when you hum.
Trouble the sea for a song.
Stop writing when I start to hear what he's doing with vowels. Insane vowels. Everywhere.
A bridge of magpies.


[For whoso list to hunt, casually]
Oh sigh into winter.
One hitch 7
The beaten path once beaten will meet
interdiction feel
In poetry too we all face forward.
And let stand a syllogism.
Contempt stirring devotion.
This is the shore of the worst thing possible.
We saved the wrong thing.
The bridge ethically dubious documentary.
Crisis apparition.
An Idaho of unstory.


Remember Cody's.
waltz occupy doubt
The first drum circle.
Debt was not a crime.
Autonomy automizes.
Not losing is not winning.
Mughsot or something gold.
Fact as chance.
Reverse allegory.
Watching what continues to decay.
Boardgames appear and must be played to the end.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Poetry Night @ The Yurt February 21, 2014 Angela Hume, Carrie Hunter, Claiborne McDonald, Eric Sneathen, Nich Malone, and Zack Haber


Medicate the withdrawal of history
diffusely social
to make the body more bearable
beyond the canopy's blot
morning's dehiscence

from separate bodies
     we were the limit
where does the bird end
lodged like yesterday's sex.
Like a tear on the skin
     that does not end.
Hooooo-se (who's) estrogen
all the windows clanging shut
I will fidelity
a temporality of the middle is


To each its own deluge
& the pools cannot be reached by air tongues
each to an each
an undecaying house of planks
chili salt body


So fetish yourself
the echoes stiffen
we die and we die
     and the echoes loosen

ES or NM

the reoccupying memories of our bodies
     I realize I can't sleep without a blanket
common property is arousing

NM or ES

and arguing about verb tenses
a mere helix shell

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Quiet Lightning Book Launch: Zack Haber + Tupelo Hassman, Amy Berkowitz, Carrie Hunter, Stephen D. Gutierrez, Dan Sanders and Stella Peach music April 7, 2014

The violin’s vibrato the fire in the street
The musician doubles
Only the i’s lowercased
The line of smoke you shouldn’t walk through.
Wanting to tell a lie but being prevented.

blind apple freeze hole patch
sugar so as to ruin it.

The mountains don’t care 
The aperture the deluge
The body briefly lent
Rain comes from where I come from — Lindsey Boldt
Ears of the tree
Lets all do Turners like Christ or Nat Turner
As if the market had a heart

Mayhem & hilarity
I’m just giving you a bad time but go on.
As I’ve been told, I’m easy to talk to.
If I’m talking to you I’m going to pay attention to you.
The woman is physically extremely stoic.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Environmental Poetics in the Risk Society: Angela Hume and James Sherry March 18, 2014


On endocrinology.
One might almost think that nothing was wrong.
Non-negotiable contingency.
Sub-social risk theory.
The concept of the threshold.
Risk is ubiquitous, the threshold does not exist.
Touch manifested as symptom.


Against one model alone
The root cause of global warming is desire.
Resist the urge to remove contradiction. Inclusive hierarchy.
The flower or the shrub
color or the shape
External cognition
I don't have this discourse.

(They're living them but we're naming them)

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Hearts Desire Reading Series: Ted Rees, Carrie Hunter & Divya Victor March 15, 2014


The animal reconstituting itself

in red neon
a hell we must affirm
in mausoleum savage
forgettable identities
towards the banality of structure
a more palatable invasion.

Turn them off its gross

the rope from hell 
hemoglobin (from?)
shafting byons
glopt skin
liquefaction guarantees
estuarian silt

Further tinkering with downy (widowy) things

The best Sonic Youth member
hermatic pseudo sea
biblically nameless
kelpy pulsations
severing the valley
jaw vibrating allegro
back pats contortion
portends fungus
aromatic rings necessitates
how sharp the shears
and antiquation
delirium sits on my face
unforgiven crystalline rose
the particle conjuries
unicode attempts
(a millay of)
stone and spiderwebs
jism all over my tusk
dihedral cumulous severance


The same week I decided to trim my eyelashes.
A cat because its soft.
You’re kissing the TV again.
Small bay birds.
And then I would eat you.
From now on all your scars will be of your own making.
An attempt to collect all my moles to make a molehill.
As the damp makes them drop to pieces. 

Friday, June 20, 2014

Woolsey Heights presents Alan Bernheimer, Jean Day, Jason Morris, February 15, 2014

I don't follow football but I'm curious.
You will always be the object/subject.
Never felt inherited desperation.
Everything becomes so likeness.
Life is a trigger warning.
I will hurt for you.
Polyphony in all the right places.
Are you really a doctor?
Have you been crying?
anthropomorphic bowing
steel-cut edge
shirt mea terra
in the blue veins of a dry
chirp unheard
I found myself
of touch they are
wheels wheel
don’t belong on the map.
One Ravel.
Copying is hoard and
attention to sky
tendon could survive
her late crown
on primitive nouns
by prior arrangement
how to work the clock
copulations of extra pairs
to my facilities
but not apposite
everything begins with -re
watching others read
no time in man years
Has anyone seen Hermes?
And after that it is all open water
woman who cannot discern when she is loved
Yul the second
undiscovers solitude.
the unironic vocative
“you can do the ragged thing well”

“You can tell its fashion because its unzipped.”

Saturday, June 14, 2014

BE ABOUT IT presents: Rauan Klassnik, Erica Lewis, Kimberly Kim, Carrie Hunter February 7, 2014

The relation of the past has nothing to do with memory.
Everyone is a heart breaker.
We are not this dance but that one.
The difference between jam & jelly.

The glass delusion
believed she was made of cork.
An Abstract heaven.
Everything is distant.
Let me start again.
Dictionary of the visible.
More like a mongoose or a mink than a fox.

Don't wear it, but use it, somewhat (slightly) rectangular, not of any particular color, American, but not a particular region.
This is the one true thing that he said to me.
There are no errors only
epiphanies were so common in our lives.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Lana Turner Glamour Reading January 26, 2014 Ang, Morrison, Joron, Spahr, Hillman, O'Brien, Warren, Palmer, Levin, Clover

The dead should keep their pronouns.
Time passes on clit or cock.
Begin a sequence every time a bell resounds.
I stick my head in it I lose my coat.
The dancer and her double.
Only when we can say everything at once.
Like an evacuation of vowels.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Heart's Desire with Jerome Rothenberg January 25, 2014

Art is junk.
Dream can't save the dying
opens to sing but freezes shut.
They took me from the white sun
and put me in the black sun.
Down here the rain falls upside down,
emotions roll between the palms.
I reached between my legs & I wallowed.
Where sunlight makes the world grow darker.
Beat the moon with oars the way I do.
The bowels shem-shaun/
It is as if nothing happened.
The feat & the subsequent refusal of the fear.
The times are never right.
The days are never right.
My heart is never right.
There is no truth to time.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Hearts Desire Reading: Cassandra Gillip, Nathaniel Ottig, Andrew Kenower 1-19-14


Die fucking. I can't tonight.
Every poem has its 20th of January.
I'm so sick of these crows.
Redundancy doesn't comfort me.
Just as complicated as I remember love to be.
Smallest little JK.
Lemonade is not infinite.


Everyone's drunk on schedule.
What's an accent.
Aquatic death spiral.
In the fact of my gigantic error.
The chimes of rabies are ringing again.
Sleep without dreams.
The non recuperative rest that is passing out.
I tapped my meridians to see if my body was there.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Andrea Abi-Karam, Carlos Soto Román, and Lara Durback at Woolsey Heights 1/18/14


The age old other.
Caged bees must remember how to fly.
I've never seen bay area rain on the windows
She did not want to jump.
I thought you should bleed more.
The feeling that comes from smashing something.
The feeling that comes from surviving together.
The exit wound is always larger
when you forget the beginning
of the imminent open end


House as puzzle.
A house without a body is a puzzle.
Absence is such a transparent house.
The stream that occurs between the silence
isolated signs of the inevitable.


Happiness is needed right here -- Aaron Begg
There's something bad about sitting in the back.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

"Go deep or go home." #Asta

Surface yoga practices. Sometimes you've got to be surface though before you can get to the deep places, you have to practice on the surface. Had so many morning pains in my body this morning, I could barely lean over, hips hurt, lower back hurt, until around the middle of the practice I finally started getting a flow and could actually go a little deeper. But also a nice metaphor for living a surface material life, and how that *may* attract certain types of people to yoga, but that is not what it is about, but maybe for some it could be a bridge toward deeper living. Do the surface stuff first if you have to, but don't stay there. (And don't go home.) (Or maybe go home and meditate.)

Also, tangentially related, I came home instead of eating out, and made a sandwich and sat meditation for a bit. The whole time while I was meditating I could hear this guy out on the sidewalk yelling; he had this contraption he had made that was falling apart and he couldn't figure out what to do, its base was a wheelchair and he had all this stuff piled on top of it, which kept falling off. As I was meditating I could hear him yelling out occasionally, and thought about all the silly stuff I get frustrated about in life, and how (maybe) if you are meditating more you will be happier and more peaceful, even though it doesn't really seem like just sitting will make you peaceful, it does happen. Also thinking about this common thought I've had for years, that might be much more complicated than I'm making it, like hello mental illness, but that with all the time they have, homeless people could use it to meditate, what would happen if they meditated 12 hours a day, and all the shit going on around them would become less foreground, and move to the background... And that if I'm thinking that about homeless people, what about my life is so easy if I just do it? Less Facebook more meditation, more writing. Use time better. Or go home.