Wednesday, August 25, 2010

2 Poems - Steve Dalachinsky [12]


a   cross   fron/tier               taped
whooooosh   crackllllelelele  thud
                          list  en  er  evoke    end message
bones           face    skullll        peel center
      where  hair has gone      terrorfirma list’ner
                    be a / ware & grasp  be / ware(s)
  chatter   in             space     in    sphere      in cog  ni  to
                  space  & cog       niiiiiissssseence

i   feel   so   separate  (d)   from my name
love  (r)  unrecognized
starfucking & confused
to become that which one fucks
hence end up fked & fucking one  (‘s)  self

so separated from my name
where is the n @ the end of  eve  /  (n)  ?
even now is it
& wonder where

glissandos – the music of cecil taylor (for Lydia)

bobs his head
up & down
sadly happy
(that was) about as gentle as
when he put the gun
to his head
(sadly happy)
a caution light
he flung himself around like poetry
how gentle is gentle
subtle restrained 1 dimensional
a workhorse
ploughing himself into a hole
like the threads of mayakovsky’s shirt
like his gills
like mayakovsky’s head
supported by the music
smashed and bobbing
her head
bobbing to the music
like mayakovsky &
like culture
like revolutions
forlorn lovers
smashed skull
like mayakovsky .

Steve Dalachinsky
New York City, NY, USA

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