BONGOS:
You ready for coffee, honey? 4 packs sugar, one afternoon. Gotta start somewhere. Which piece. German, Greek, Black, Polish, Irish, Dominican, Italian, Seneca, Poor, Riddled With Lead, Childless, Poetic, Cynical, What. Natives know it’s not the blizzard that gets ya, it’s the salt, asbestos. Breath of marinara. Factory box buildings. Behold, charade of holding our own(s). Fear in each knee, toetip. Don’t trust ‘em.
Dream of post-industrial meltdown, pairs of men in white shirts bobbing through old-wound empty lots, lonely West Side satellites. We live in the City of Good Neighbors. Beautiful day, say some. Hollywood, others. Hollywooood, the jersey gripped low to the groin. Disabled vets flick a butt to the curb and rub together tarred fingertips; Mmmmm baby. You look good today, baby! Very nice, very nice. Does a man feel an obligation to speak to a woman on the sidewalk. Does he learn this from the movies, his grandfather in the factory, the priest eyeing alter boys, in the Fruit Belt seeing his strong mama belt-smacked under the breasts in a ghost-ridden house. Does he feel it each time in his loins. This is not a multiple choice test.
Lift of detail in lung, shattering cornea. The city heaves its chest and out we dive. What could have been, a phantom limb. Tag ‘em high - Hert. Atak. Uphill all the way back? No ice cream? Closed at 5? Robbed at knife point?
My mother taught me to eat everything, in relative silence - pleasure in the quotidiana. Grease stained, no matter. Smell of bread, half-light under steel beams. Water on the street. Picking through garbage behind the hospital where you were born. Under the railroad bridge, over Niagara. Hope where.
BRASS:
29.9.08
28.9.08
#7
BONGOS:
They sold off my shoes to make pinstripes and news. “Thanks for your pulls pushes paychecks and punch.” In Xanadu did abreact your stately pleasure domes foreclosed. Our debt they shouldered now we shoulder theirs which is our own which is not theirs but they still chickenfight while our mortgaged-back(s) begin to brake.
[…]
Abandon a bandage a band of thieves a brand of real a state of panic a plan it seems to save our planet a plant but now I’m taken aback. This despotic dipsosis, the best taverns at the corner of That Street, liquidate your mortgage so we can sip That Sweet Something which we know is running thin but we can plummet, pillage the sea and shallow coastlines will supply That Salve that Saves, that spits and sputters, just give us That Second Shot. Whose we but you and them not me but if they fail then we do too but if we fail then they did too whose we not you; believe. Reap presentational democracy.
BRASS:
Edit:
27.9.08
#6
BONGOS:
Give me thirty eyelashes
and a crown
for your troubles
I am timeless
dull-eyed and alone
I and naked
purple pinstripes
and soda cracker bones
I am master of excess
a ferocious lover
I peel and tear and stretch
and wear you on my breath
BRASS:
25.9.08
#5
BONGOS:
Protected Under Several U.S. Patents
I.
Voice of the body won’t leave me alone asks for things to be fed to be led fertilized mud erodes the roots of reptilian bones and corn don’t hold back back what were you thinking. All day day going on coffee coffee and dirty thoughts licentious refrigerator caught caught in the dead wanton knuckles of tree present participle of leak to become known runs rivers run where are you going where have you a million mornings and back body still gurgling enormity toxic vein on poisoned land is it consensual or affordable or organic or engineered?
Eat eating yielding leafy green iron content make the most I imagine my lover as a fish slick catch of scales rubbed the wrong way accumulation of fins for five years a nurturing a refrigeration a peeling
Mercury is interplant. Digestive. Complimentary. Seedlings take root in love production irrigate that proposition progress flows downstream profit margin will make four thinner hips whose body their body whose self my whose land hungry mother Monsanto please pick up why you didn’t call Shirley says
there always is a reason trust
II.
in us reason trust reason us treason us reason trust us eason rust ust treas on us
BRASS:
nature's little helpers:
http://www.patriciapiccinini.net/
Protected Under Several U.S. Patents
I.
Voice of the body won’t leave me alone asks for things to be fed to be led fertilized mud erodes the roots of reptilian bones and corn don’t hold back back what were you thinking. All day day going on coffee coffee and dirty thoughts licentious refrigerator caught caught in the dead wanton knuckles of tree present participle of leak to become known runs rivers run where are you going where have you a million mornings and back body still gurgling enormity toxic vein on poisoned land is it consensual or affordable or organic or engineered?
Eat eating yielding leafy green iron content make the most I imagine my lover as a fish slick catch of scales rubbed the wrong way accumulation of fins for five years a nurturing a refrigeration a peeling
Mercury is interplant. Digestive. Complimentary. Seedlings take root in love production irrigate that proposition progress flows downstream profit margin will make four thinner hips whose body their body whose self my whose land hungry mother Monsanto please pick up why you didn’t call Shirley says
there always is a reason trust
II.
in us reason trust reason us treason us reason trust us eason rust ust treas on us
BRASS:
nature's little helpers:
http://www.patriciapiccinini.net/
23.9.08
#4
BONGOS:
Why would prey wear their worth on a placard? Who paints a target gold and fastens it to their chest? Loud neon thumbs pointing down at the root of lowered expectations.
I tell her my order and make sure that I pronounce every syllable correctly. I shudder at the improper use of salad forks while melting gray faces make ambiguous eyes. I'm the only one wearing a tie. I'm the only one whose skin is crawling across the table and into the corner. I start to move again when my father recognizes the hole I've dug and decides to throw money into it.
The men sitting next to me are crumbling into dust while I crack crab, yet they stare at the horns I'm starting to sweat from my forehead. There's no more money to be thrown, so I start feverishly gnashing on the shells and inherit an exoskeleton.
BRASS:
# 3
BONGOS:
A fragment, worth revising:
Rabbit in the electrical box. Found another in the fridge. Under coffee rings over love letters now post-its. Everywhere Rabbitlife. The moon is a Rabbit, and my belly is Rabbitful, and even my Rabbits are Rabbits.
BRASS:
and the winner is...
A fragment, worth revising:
Rabbit in the electrical box. Found another in the fridge. Under coffee rings over love letters now post-its. Everywhere Rabbitlife. The moon is a Rabbit, and my belly is Rabbitful, and even my Rabbits are Rabbits.
BRASS:
and the winner is...
20.9.08
#2
BONGOS:
The average prehistoric hunter gatherer worked an estimated four hours a day. My dad always told me if you want something done ask the busiest guy you know. Everyone wants a washing machine, and the dirt didn't use to make us sick when we slept in it.
19.9.08
#1
BONGOS:
The Hawthorne Effect
Workers were divided into test and control groups so the memory is panicked and closure-free. A thong for christmas, day planner, an abdominal crunching ball. A slurred romp through the kitchen, groping after the fringe. we know they was watching but still stomp freely. We, the burrito concoctee. The intent was to find the level of illumination that made the work of female coil winders, relay assemblers and small parts inspectors more efficient. We knew they was watchin' so we hovered too. We didn't say we wanted to mean, or that we wanted new means, we just meant the regret has its clatter and bonk.
To the mall, check the mail, check them all. It was during the first phase of study that we discovered our Dura Mater: that most cadence was hitched to the wind. more precisely, a balloon in the wind. Lighting for the test group was increased from 24 to 46 to 70 foot-candles because it is 1924 and there are no dimmers for dim ideas. In that town, stimulus lobbed from a cloaca landed in our mouths so we gathered to talk about it: work about it.
BRASS:
The Hawthorne Effect
Workers were divided into test and control groups so the memory is panicked and closure-free. A thong for christmas, day planner, an abdominal crunching ball. A slurred romp through the kitchen, groping after the fringe. we know they was watching but still stomp freely. We, the burrito concoctee. The intent was to find the level of illumination that made the work of female coil winders, relay assemblers and small parts inspectors more efficient. We knew they was watchin' so we hovered too. We didn't say we wanted to mean, or that we wanted new means, we just meant the regret has its clatter and bonk.
To the mall, check the mail, check them all. It was during the first phase of study that we discovered our Dura Mater: that most cadence was hitched to the wind. more precisely, a balloon in the wind. Lighting for the test group was increased from 24 to 46 to 70 foot-candles because it is 1924 and there are no dimmers for dim ideas. In that town, stimulus lobbed from a cloaca landed in our mouths so we gathered to talk about it: work about it.
BRASS:
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