Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Commons set 3 // 29 - 30


objects / tobacco & brandy
or something truly ridiculous
class struggle / in poetry also
- yawn -
its contagion is spread
via rhymsters, their embers
their swarms of bone
not zombies, sirens
criss-cross a fraudulent
a map of, of what -
got an art council grant
will burn their houses down
- yawn -
everyone’s been buried alive


objects / of the future
who we’re speaking to
- or there is no future -
- so, like, tough shit -
but still your shadows
still they block us
are still eating us
even inside the poem
its rowdy echoes
we are drowned inside
sirens, as I was saying
or, of course, the law
our ruins our octaves
you speaking in them

2 comments:

jackgessner said...

Gods mill grinds slow but sure........................................

Chef E said...

fabulous site...mind if I visit...