Monday, September 1, 2008

Joseph Harrington


Essay on the Allegorical Uses of Syntax
for B P Nichol (and others)

The capitalization of Gneiss
Exiled from the capital
Capitol the capital of Speedy

Plot more than scheme
Story more than plot
History more read than blue

Poetry being at a dead
End time being til no
One listens to poetry save

Golden crowned sparrow
Spavined fools gold
Arrow downed having

Running while spitting
Pissing altogether winds
Digging remember hind

Objects known by shadow
Play deep reality plow
Down use values fucked

Up rock chuck hawk chalks
Up subject verbs object
To capitalize on plot schemes

Poems than none other is
looks at it when reading
Don’t say jay nay pa stop

An H say


Ice Age Spring Break

When than spring April
draft of age hath
parsed to the root
value of all glaciers,
retreat man far south,
caves of Iraqi Qum
beach of South Padre
longen folk goon wild,
pills grim ages wrack
shiny faces every races
have got a friend in
Coke ’s the real / god
can’t see the folks
beneath the new faces:
breakers make white foam
(“semen of the gods”),
be excellent to each
another party on dudes.


The Same Poem

Like maybe we're all writing it? Like how everybody
points out the word she almost wrote instead? Like
everybody's talking about Cornell boxes? Like
miniaturization would save us? Like homophonic
procedures cured the security pageant? Like excess
for access? Like everyone's unique but me?

Or how you read the sign as "piso mojito" & think
you've drunk too much? Or see the sheets of rain in
Times Sq. & think of Ridley Scott? And can't stop it?
Like it were your poem? This has been going on for
years. Like brevity for bit? Or how everyone grows
young when the old folks give up & go home?

The addictable play of forms - how a logo imparts its
power if you wear it? Like swoop for swoosh? Like your
poem on the ticker, the jumbotron, the crawl? Like
maybe it is, by someone else? Like parapraxis were
the new metonymy? Aw shit I meant parataxis. And?


Personal Poem

Every day I become more like me.
I’m about to be killed, right?

damaged persons never forgive(n) - ?
More on this theme later.

Your money will run out before
your life, making suicide

unnecessary. In the mean time,
don’t touch me I’m radio

activewith a half-ass life
60 million years.


A Blog Hole

Instead of reading and writing blogs, I could be reading and
writing _______. But really, I wonder how much
imagination and thought are funneled
into this form that formerly was
expended on things like
essays, poems,
books, &c. There are
writers who do some of their
best writing for their blogs. And
there are others who read everything
(or appear to do so), including blogs. And
what does happen when nobody can afford the
utility bills any more? The missing link is the link after the last.

-all poems gathered from his blog, Blog of Myselfs

No comments: