Friday, September 4, 2009


Still working diligently on the poems for next week's workshop, but another assignment is to keep a diary of fragments for our minimalist literature class. Here's a taste from the archive and this eventful week. Barcodes at bottom of post.



to school

get some


skills. skeeoos.


I like to write about people that are really flawed
I like to write about urban space and love
I like to write about religion and identity

Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax

Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax

Brekekekex, ko-ax, ko-ax

It’s exactly

an exact


Which slender and hollow do you mean?


Manual of fact
Confession stand
Ear confection

I write about being broke and blue collar and baking –

things that start with b

Snow on top

When the dark clouds part

Rain of pink petals

Our loss is dog’s heaven’s gain

Oil Floats—


American Man:

I try to write about everyday relationships in a harsh but endearing way

I want to touch your eyes

a lamp sporting erotic characters

grief in a box

Brain, ball, spiral, maze, fractal, fist.

“The emergence of relations among things, more than the things themselves, always gives rise to new meanings.”

I try to write something quirky and heartbreaking

Outlying the dense

Capture and effusion of

Meaning our fall from

Identity will convert us

Our touching the images

I tend to write about people getting murdered

That are us fallen from us

Remote control pride has had fifteen whips.

Read Canadian poems; have half-flapped waffles;

random cankers pierced; homicidal hasbeens fly witless.

Xerox sweet poems: have fotocopies wept?

Xerox sucky poems: have fotocopies wounded?

Xerox shitty poems: have fotocopy warriors.

je parle hebrew verse in full visionary kandour.

je parle hedonistic verse in favoured vector koordinates.

I’m done writing about Calcutta and am looking for the next thing

jejune pretty hate verse into fowl vicious kurses.

domestic isolation & capital’s reach

“our social personality is a creation of the thoughts of other people”

ritual provides a context in which beauty is possible

leathery, green, & shiny

plucked & dried

2 hours ago

Moribund Facekvetch is si dnubirom, o lonely tylenol.

2 hours ago

George Murray is asking himself, How do I work this? And George Murray is asking himself, Where is that large automobile?

3 hours ago

Judy MacDonald is on the internets too much. And Facebook wants to help her stop.

4 hours ago

Faustine Faubert is swearing this much is true.

My writing tends to be about spirituality and people like myself who are in their late 20s and coming to age extremely late in life and how that dovetails with urban decay in small-town America

4 hours ago

Jesse Hirsh is still fuct.

4 hours ago

Dave Murphy is feeling particlarly hirsute on these hot days.

5 hours ago

Trina Langille is going to have her husband's company in San Francisco next week.

5 hours ago

Kate Armstrong is in a borrowed cubicle.

5 hours ago

Lisa Sloniowski is weighing the options.




Dear Bob Grenier, I don’t know if you remember but we read together at New Yipes in Oakland a couple years ago. I think you called me a revolutionary and said I reminded you of Allen Ginsberg. Anyway, here is a call for a new project of mine. I would love it if you would donate, particularly because I have to take a Minimalist Mystique class this fall and don’t have much talent in minimalist forms!


  1. like tentacled (tenacious)roots, like guts, like cotton-candied clouds, these words push hardened soil borders, delight (enlighten)connections that never before were, that never before will be

  2. jamming poetrically heathing verses in fantasmic verbiruses, kewl.