Pastorelle 2
reminder that the object is a song
for which the troubadours commanded themselves to a life between
risk of holding back
risk of not holding back and the death of desire
from Writing is Never By Itself Alone: Six Mini-Essays On Relational Investigative Poetics
Currently in the U.S.A., the practice of intellectual analysis seems like an act of defiance. Fundamentalist logic pervades and is being used to justify many domestic and foreign policy decisions—from the notion that poverty can be controlled through faith-based initiatives, to establishing the parameters of an “axis of evil” that threatens “freedom.”
Did You Know?
Did You Know?
1957 — U.S. public school/elementary student pie consumption — at least 14 pieces annually (school year)
1982 — student pie consumption — 4 pieces
1999 — s.p.c. — 1.77777703 pieces
Did You Know?
Untitled
a pleasure & a torture courtesan in me a snake with enviable bells of culture dried thing in that reputation beg ging noticed avoided wearing comfortable guarantee & forced to currency of drink to the winds would you come gold & layered pro gramming which a essence a sailors fleet our liabili ty the sun […]
The New York School
The e-mail from Hanoi reads: Babar was a colonial foil, beset by pygmy riffraff, whose trunk was the family tree of empire. Postcolonial theory adopts the unexamined rhetoric of adoption, bien sur.
“The whole cast of them in hands passing…”
The whole cast of them in hands passing
Jack’s gapped amassed adventure version
reads like Minneapolis at least. And
from Nota
Something threw a bird into my line of vision.
poverty and suffering ennoble only when they are voluntary
people are multiplying their wants
Ten Letters to the President
August 6, 2001
Dear President Bush,
Thank you very much for your letter of July 30. It reminds me to tell you about how last Friday a spell of unseasonably cool days and a breeze from out of the northwest afforded Ted and me the opportunity to enjoy our lunch break outdoors.
And Who Is Crying
And Who Is Crying
And who is crying
And why
And why am i crying?
For myself or for the dead women? i dreamed that they, we, had blonde-haired selves that ate other such ones for food.
Phantom Dwellings
Since last I wrote
my little bird
has turned into a cat,
