Federal creation of Micro-Terrorist bomb threats leads to the burning of Oregon mosque and nationwide fear of retaliation against specifically Somalian Muslims.

This article says it all or at least, it says it finally...down toward the bottom that no one reads...it relates the real news that a mosque was set on fire. That actually happened.

The terrorist incident didn't and in fact was literally set up and sponsored by the federal law enforcement agencies tasked with keeping Islamophobia alive and kicking in underwear and in our lightbulbs. Everything from the empty garbage cans and inert blast caps to the van that was driven to the CHRISTMAS TREE LIGHTING ceremony was provided by the dark hairy hand of the GOV.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20101129/ap_on_re_us/us_portland_car_bomb_plot

Happy Thanksgiving

from Alice's Restaurant, ah, Alice's...where you can get anything you want!

"Kid, we don't want any hangins'."

Hassan In Tyr with the Grandparents...sporting my fashionable Liberian Burkini.

And this just in...the Pope is found to be a Creationist afterall!

"VATICAN CITY – Pope Benedict XVI formally created 24 new cardinals on Saturday amid cheers in St. Peter's Basilica, bringing a mostly Italian group into the elite club that will eventually elect his successor."

Laura Elrick's STALK with Kai Beverly-Whittemore and Kristim Prevallet and Kythe Heller Using actual detainee logs from the Secret Orcon Interrogation Log here:

http://ccrjustice.org/files/Publication_AlQahtaniLog.pdf

"Interrogators began “bad muslim” theme. Ran “circumstantial evidence” theme."

"Detainee was taken to bathroom and walked 10 minutes. Detainee offered water
– refused. Interrogators covered the resistance techniques he had used and asked him to perform the “crazy Mohammed” facial expressions again. Detainee began to cry. Interrogators recounted the “emotional Mohammed” from earlier in the session and the detainee became stoic again."

"Detainee began to cry during pride and ego down. Detainee was reminded that no one loved, cared or remembered him. He was reminded that he was less than
human and that animals had more freedom and love than he does. He was taken
outside to see a family of banana rats. The banana rats were moving around
freely, playing, eating, showing concern for one another. Detainee was compared
to the family of banana rats and reinforced that they had more love, freedom, and concern than he had. Detainee began to cry during this comparison."

"Head break and 10 minute exercise. Interrogator allowed detainee to choose a
topic to talk about. Detainee wanted to talk about dinosaurs. Interrogator gave
history of dinosaurs and talked about the meteor that wiped them out, and equated
this event with nuclear war. Detainee expresses great ignorance about dinosaurs
and space, topics that are taught in U.S. grade schools. Detainee asked
interrogator if the sun revolved around the earth."




...and that my friends is incredibly sad and should make every American citizen bury themselves in mud for eternity.

Palestinian WWII Veterans who fought
AGAINST Hitler denied benefits and priviledges

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yp8ioESzOYE

PM Netanyahu's Speech at the General Assembly in New Orleans Part_1

Some Good Pomes for my birthday. I listened to them while nibbling on leftover Kibbe Suniyeh i.e. Kibbe in Pan. Kibbe was constructed out of a beautiful filet (Halal) purchased at Babylon Market in Tucson (boy did I pay alot for this hunk of fresh beef). This was a truly beautiful piece of meat. This is ground into a near puree and combined with Kibbe Base. Kibbe Base is made by grinding an onion, several radishes, a hot pepper (any type) and a sweet pepper plus some fine bulghur with a liberal couple of spoons of ground "camooni" which is a conconction of cumin, allspice, mint, rosehips, cardommon, cinnamon bark, black peppercorns...and some other stuff actually. So, this is mushed up into a giant blob of raw meat with wheat and spices and all of that stuff......you have to eat some of that raw too while preparing the dish (called Kibbe Naye at that stage and it is oh so delicious)....so then you fry up some ground meat (preferably halal) with some onions, hot pepper, sweet pepper in olive oil and season it with cinnamon and allspice and salt....so this is placed between two layers of the Kibbe (from filet and patted into adobe like layers) and you bake it for 20 minutes or so....helps to brush some olive oil on top of the whole mess. So...it's pretty good the day you make it but the real treat is to eat it COLD the next day. Oh and I forgot..throw in some pine nuts when you fry the ground meat....this is really important. Also put some pine nuts on top of the whole thing...slash diamond like cuts across the top and place one or two nuts in each diamond so it looks like the real deal.

Goes great with some nice hot coffee (perc'd in an old Pyrex stovetop) and some Jim Pomes. Nice start to a birthday if you ask me.

JIM BEHRLE FOR POETEEVEE from Alex Abelson on Vimeo.

RATED: Wunderful and One of a Kind Video although cannot quite comparet to Dramatic Reading of a Break Up Letter, The Numa Numa or Power Thirst but it is up there in the top twenty or thirty all time super videos.




I also found this refreshing this on Linh Dinh's blog Detainees
...and the two somehow go together:

The Tea for Two Party or how to split the vote and still end up winning:

Wunderbar essay by Ammiel Alcalay. From Baraka to Olson and How the West Was Won Yesterday........................again!

Drat!

Aspen Grove, Mogollon Rim photo by Radiann Porter October 2010

Leave it to the Gulls and John Latta

Great (as is his usual)


The real-life rules of Charles Olson versus Old Skool and TransplantAtlantic Values.

One must wonder if this might have anything to do with Reality TV and the birth of same. Heh. And Lordy. Lordy Lordy we hope not.

Polis is This

Misunderstanding the Messih (ar.)

http://abecedarianfx.blogspot.com/2010/10/magic-mysticism-politics-in-poetry-few.html

A great Halloween Treat for the spectrally inclined Derrida-ist. So many ghosts and you know, it's a good thing we can still buy some eggs. I'd hate it if those things turned into vampires and all we could do is eat the image of an egg. And by gum, worse yet, I am an image too.

Most importantly, the misreading of the Messih by not one but two very important groups of people (those who create the Judeo-Christian dyad)....has led to this type of self important economic theory not to mention a generous amount of literary theory as well...the haves and have nots...all that important stuff about what we call 'reality'. Thing is, reality cannot be considered reality unless someone gets the facts straight and then, reality becomes only a superficial code for something far more important than a mere day's wage.

No Gnosis Required to grasp this problem.....not at all.

[4.157] And their saying: Surely we have killed the Messiah, Isa son of Marium, the apostle of Allah; and they did not kill him nor did they crucify him, but it appeared to them so (like Isa) and most surely those who differ therein are only in a doubt about it; they have no knowledge respecting it, but only follow a conjecture, and they killed him not for sure. -The Women in The Glorious Quran

The Unreadable, Unmanagable poems of Jared Schickling and here is one example of, I believe, a poem that starts and is possibly titled INVECTIVE. It has a fine last line which is simply "inertia" and is constructed like a poorly prepared term paper or something. It translates into something that might be a time capsule received by a race on another planet who is unable to read in English and cannot fathom why John Tesh's last appearance on Entertainment Tonight is worth commenting on.

A truly, truly fascinating excursion into experimental poetry:

http://www.ditchpoetry.com/Jared%20Schickling.pdf

Mr. Schickling's new book out from Blaze Vox, Zero's Blooming Excursion is probably, I can only imagine, an equally fancy delight:

http://www.blazevox.org/bk-js4.htm

Top: Hassan really loves the slide situation.

Bottom: The Poet's Plump rear supervising the circulations of her grandson at the Iranian Victory Garden in South Lebanon at Maroon Ar-Ras (Head of St. Maroon). The view is into Northern Israel and gorgeous. Photo by S. Swaid, September 2010.

Women's Work

REAL Iranian News here: http://www.campaigniran.org/casmii/index.php?q=node

CASMII is a non profit organization which aims to educate people about and eradicate sanctions against the peaceful sovereign state of Iran.

Mahmoud Ahmadinijad's First State Visit to Lebanon

Marked by Animal Slaughter and other Anti Western (ahem) activities like Ribbon Cuttings and Victory Speeches. The NERVE of those people!

http://www.campaigniran.org/casmii/index.php?q=node/10920

"I'm not even going to reach for a book on my shelf or search Wikipedia to find Islam's connection to animal killing. Instead I'll resort to common sense: human beings kill animals. In English we call them butchers. Not one article bothered to mention that the "sacrificed" camels, with "their long, graceful necks slit open" would actually be eaten afterwards. When it involves Arabs or Muslims, the implication is that they're savages killing merely for the sake of killing." -Mathew Cassel for CASMII Media Watch

This in response to an article in Slate written by one Ruth Ackerman who seems to take delight in not only slanting the news for her own think tank in order to line her pockets with think-tank gold but who probably is a zionist herself. Not much doubt about those people you know....they either are Zionists or work for them and often times they are both.

Alastair Crooke writes in Race for Iran:

The visit was, in fact, a State visit. The Iranian President was formally invited by the Maronite Christian President of Lebanon some while ago. Iran is a prominent regional state, just as Turkey is – whose Prime Minister happens to be visiting Beirut today.

Iran’s popularity on the streets should not surprise anyone. It is real, and it is heartfelt – and extends beyond the Shi’i of the south of Beirut. Having been present here in Beirut throughout the war of 2006, I experienced the almost universal shock at how leaders and so-called ‘friends of Lebanon’ such as Tony Blair and Condoleezza Rice tried to fend-off and delay a ceasefire – in order to allow Israel more time to ‘finish the job’, i.e. to destroy more bridges, more infrastructure and impose civilian casualties – as our ‘price’ to be paid for Hizbullah’s seizure of Israeli soldiers. Feelings here are still raw on this point, and all sectors of opinion know that the only real support for Lebanon in those dark hours came from Syria and Iran. Unsurprisingly, there was a direct element of gratitude in expression to Iran in recent days both for the support then, and its subsequent economic assistance to repair the damage.

Mr. Crooke goes on to describe the importance of the Shi'i philosophy in combating the world-wide sense of oppression that is overwhelmingly present throughout not only the Middle East but in every quarter of the globe:

In May this year, Zbig Brezezinski gave a brief talk at the Council for Foreign Relations (CFR) in Montreal. He told his audience that there were two factors shaping global politics in the world today. The first, he said was that “for the first time in all of human history, mankind is politically awakened and stirring”, adding that “all over the world people were aware of what was happening politically and are “consciously aware of global inequities, inequalities, lack of respect, and of exploitation”.

His second point was that the élites that rule us are less united and more diversified than before (he gave the transition of the G8 into the G20 as example); the élite is both less homogeneous and less restrained by adherence to traditional values and culture; the consequence of this is a more surveilled, and a more controlled society, Brzezinski has written.

When Mahmoud Ahmadinejad or Hassan Nasrallah quote Imam Ali (the son-in-law of The Prophet)’s dictum that Muslims should be the ‘friend of the oppressed; and enemies of the oppressor’, or speak of western ‘double-standards’, New York Times sophisticates may sneer at this talk as ‘all hat and no cattle’; but they simply miss the point.

In short Islam – particularly Shi’i Islam – is taking over the clothes of the European early Renaissance (before the Enlightenment); Islam stands, for many Muslims, for a humanism and a respect for justice, human dignity and defiance of tyranny that Europe once espoused. Of course, few in the West will see it in these terms: they have been too busy creating an inverted mirror image of what they perceive still to be western ‘virtues’ – and call it Iranian ‘theocracy’.

"Elsewhere" in the media (Slate which is run by the Jerusalem Post folks), Christopher Hitchens, the well known pro Zionist athiest takes a break from treatments to treat his throat cancer caused by addiction to booze and cigarettes (not Allah of course) to write a little expose on "how" Hezbollah became the most powerful broker in Lebanon and probably the most powerful broker in the Middle East. He shows no shame in bad reportage, obvious propaganda and innuendo for which he brings forth no supporting evidence (insinuating Hezbollah in the murder of Hariri and not mentioning the fact that Hezbollah has actual evidence of Israeli involvement (surprise-not!) in the 2005 Israeli engineered and executed Valentine's Day massacre of the former prime minister who single handedly had rebuilt Beirut and restored it's international public image. Something Israel really hates is a Middle East with a Good Public Image.

I'll bet he'd fire his doctors if they treated his cancer that way!

http://www.slate.com/id/2271511/

Increasing number of Americans choose "green" or as the narrator notes, Islamic/Jewish burials:

The Beginning of Right Versus Wrong or Original Sin*


Reposting this video in which a Shi'a scholar describes the logic behind the murder of the grandson of the Prophet Mohamed, SA i.e. the murder of Hussein at Kerbala, pbuh. Recently, a person has asked if that is what divides Sunni from Shia and I think it is important to understand a couple of things about that.

At the time of Mohamed's death, Islam was not technically divided into two branches (the right one and the sect). However, it is well known and supported in the Quran itself, that Islam already had two branches i.e. the right one and the errant one. These two groups are referred to in the Quran and in this instance, allegorically related to the two sects during another important phase in Islam:

[27.45] And certainly We sent to Samood their brother Salih, saying: Serve Allah; and lo! they became two sects quarrelling with each other.

Logically, unless both groups are wrong, one group becomes a splinter 'faction' and splits from the mainstream. Logically as well, if this were not the case and the two groups split into two new groups, it would mean a disappearance in its entirety of the 'seed' group. That would be illogical.

Therefore, what happened in Islam from the very beginning is that people became divided into two groups basically. Those that believe in Allah and those that don't. There are always only two groups in that affair. One is absolutely sincere and the others become, in a sense, agnostics to belief. Some progress into full hypocrisy in that affair and still others graduate into absolute disbelief. This has happened in every phase of Allah's religion including the notable affair of the split into sects of the Companions of Jesus Christ (Isa, SA) who after the Last Supper found themselves at odds with each other and set up the sectarian nature of all of Christendom and to this day it remains split into sects:

[5.115] Allah said: Surely I will send it down to you, but whoever shall disbelieve afterwards from among you, surely I will chastise him with a chastisement with which I will not chastise, anyone among the nations. -From the Sura called The Dinner Table which describes the true miracle of the Last Supper and the last act of the apostle known as Jesus.

The Shia/Sunni split is the only split that is in any sense noteworthy in Islam. That is because you will find all sects are a type of one of those groups regardless of how they themselves might align themselves or stress their own "independence" from the crowd. For instance, the Baha'i are not truly muslim by definition because they do not follow any of the Islamic rituals such as fasting during Ramadan, prayer five times a day or Hajj. The do however attribute their existence entirely to the Ahl Bayt and hence are considered by many theologians as Shi'a. In my estimation it is like calling a Jehovah's Witness a Roman Catholic. About the same. In this case however the Baha'i can be compared to the Christian sect known as Mormonism because in effect they exist on the basis of a delusional pschodrama of one person who then translated and transcribed their messianic complex into hard text and produced a 'bible' for their followers: The Book of Mormon versus the Bayan.

By the time however that the prophet's grandson Hussein was murdered, the Sunni/Shia divide was in full swing and ethnic cleansing was either occurring or being forced upon the quiet members of the sect. It is what necessitated the need for what is called Taqiyya or "Religious Dissimulation". Without it, the Shia would have been purged and Islam as we know it would already be dead. No doubt it has much to do with the reason the US and Israel attack Shia countries so agressively...hoping to "wipe Shia Islam off the face of the earth" so to speak with talk of nuking Iran and destroying Hezbollah in South Lebanon.

I like the following video because it really shows the nature of Shia logic. Shia logic is what distinguishes Sunnite from Shi'ite followers of Islam. There are other things that distinguish these two groups of course but logic is the single most important quality that differentiates between the two. I don't think anyone can understand it all just from a video or two but this is a great example of what Shia scholars are talking about when they try to emphasize and dissociate themselves from modern Sunni movements like Al Qaeda.

And no, we Shia have nothing to apologize for and hence we don't when asked to apologize for the Crimes against humanity that "Sunni" Islam has incurred. We are not guilty and in fact are the victims of the same band of idiocracy that was produced with Sunni logic that lauded the death of the relatives of the last prophet and aggrandized the role of the murderer of Hussein and ridiculed the muslim who in turn killed the killer.







*Original Sin is defined as listening to advice from a source other than Allah

Viral: Dramatic Reading of Real Break-Up Letter

Taqiyya and the Problematic Structure of Sects in Islam

Testimony from the Grand Mufti of Syria.

Ode To Rocks

In pockets and gardens, under
our beds for miners carry
a fair share in long gray
pails with jugs of soup
near shanks and flesh
with crusts plus those
stored in the chests.
The spare parts of the world
cast about pose a craving
as deep as the ocean is long
as the rivers are wide. A record
of perennial harvests hauled
up from the ground
on ladders of iron, even that!
Beloved fountains of slag
pour into banks of remains
where genuflection pays
paper for gold and time with loss.
Poor men fair well in shifts,
forever on the way in or out
with dirt clinging, dirt in love
with the heroic skin, part
ancient shroud part, let me in.



They are out. I doubt that there is one miner or miner's family who is not completely touched by this momentous occassion. My own father who worked underground for Phelps Dodge refused to be buried when he died for exactly this reason...the fear of being caught in a mine collapse. It's really something to see the world pay attention to the miners and their families...men who work underground and go relatively unnoticed by society day to day....have never been unnoticed by those who love them. Every time there is a mine collapse, I post this poem (In the Mines in Mexico, They Weep) which started many, many years ago and looked quite different then. It's still not finished and today I am adding the line toward the middle, "The small white butterflies." because the miner's themselves (not all) attribute their safety to having stopped to watch a small white butterfly from outside the mine....2000 some feet down into the ground that is. Much of my early work concentrates most definitely on being raised in a mining town and in a mining family including all of the Odes like the one above, Ode to Rocks. And this year we are noticing Freport McMoran returning our old town to its mining focus....roads being built, big machines and men in hard hats wondering around doing this and that...strange lights up on the slag heaps at all hours.

In The Mines Of Mexico They Weep

Now there shall be a man cohered out of tumult and chaos . . . . the elder encourages the younger and shows him how . . . they two shall launch off fearlessly together till the new world fits an orbit for itself and looks unabashed on the lesser orbits of the stars and sweeps through the ceaseless rings and shall never be quiet again. - Walt Whitman, in the preface to Leaves of Grass.

In a twilight pilgrimmage
via these frost cracked streets
close to the Campbell shaft
full of our fathers breath and breathing,
we unfold our own cloth on the Fourth of July,
one crease at a time on the crags
near the ballpark in Warren, down from
the Loma Linda and the old mine-boss housing.
Flashlights dangle from the hands
of children. The night catches us deeply
unaware, but they don't think like that,
they are that,
think more about the starting time,
and the firemen on top of the dumps
who signal the end by waving lanterns,
how they crave that sort of thing
up there on those mountains of slag
thinking, as ours do, of the breath
of canaries and candles deep in those old holes.

The small white butterflies.

A persistent and unheard whimper
fills space on this weary-
happy picnic in July or maybe
it only fills the weariness with something else.
I clasp a child tight in my arms,
a finger closes the tender wound,
hush hush, our waiting begins, we settle down.
Our Fourth of July is in sweet tortuous ruins
thrown in a trash bin of appetites lost.
We've run from one excitement to another

races, parades, contests, reunions
thankful for a gentle sun, there was no burning
and there will be few scars if any.
The miles between this and that
contract like stars in heaven where
light reaches us much too late
and we as well, get there accordingly.

This is the anniversary of all
that's happened here
for each body on this ragged old quilt,
each poor soul and dumbstruck
face tipped up toward the sky.
The silence between one person and the next
is only the truth where commentary has failed.
I look around me one last time
before the sun takes all the light away -
count the faces I own, erase what's left,
a small town thing to do on an occasion like this.

The darkness is complete and the fireworks begin.
My daughter tells me, during one of the beautiful
interims which goes like this:

ooh, aah, wonderful! then another interim and another,

one day the sun will die

as copper sulphur spark comets flower dark,
my father scatters in the sky,

Oh! Mufasa, talk to me!

First draft sometime 03/06 however the sketch for this poem much earlier...probably in the mid 90's.

Is that a wedgie Eileen Myles is pulling out of her backside? Only she can get away with stunts like that and then there's the stinky poem with super graphics:

Eileen Myles from Monofonus Press on Vimeo.

Israel Guilty of Murder of US citizen

Israel executes six people including one US citizen. Media coverage is practically nil of course because US citizens matter about as much as Palestinians. Which is they matter not at all. Anyways...in the Middle East, most people now believe that Israel is not only a doomed country but it probably only has a decade or less left. This isn't just a handful of people saying this but it is a widespread belief in the Middle East and in the headlines of their newspapers.

Read more about Israel's desperate actions against the flotilla: here

The report reveals that Dogan, the 19-year-old US citizen of Turkish descent, was filming with a small video camera on the top deck of the Mavi Marmara when he was shot twice in the head, once in the back and in the left leg and foot and that he was shot in the face at point blank range while lying on the ground.

The report says Dogan had apparently been "lying on the deck in a conscious or semi-conscious, state for some time" before being shot in his face.

The forensic evidence that establishes that fact is "tattooing around the wound in his face," indicating that the shot was "delivered at point blank range." The report describes the forensic evidence as showing that "the trajectory of the wound, from bottom to top, together with a vital abrasion to the left shoulder that could be consistent with the bullet exit point, is compatible with the shot being received while he was lying on the ground on his back."

A Poet Named Sea Biscuit

I ran into a young lady last month...at the Saturday Morning Farmer's Market...and we got to talking about Ecoasis which is a visionary plan to change some old cruddy lots around here into community gardens, etc. I think it is truly exciting to be living in such a time and such a place that invites people to exchange ideas, good food and according to an email I just received...good words. Open Mic night is projected for first Fridays and this is truly needed in the poetic environs of Bisbee, Arizona.

So Far So Good

To erase it all up and memorize
the gaps run through it as mis-spellings
truly rain. Body up and pretend
to know what it is you are doing
again, wash it up and thread
it with one eye closed as they used
to do this in borrowed tenses.
That was silence for it is
not remembered as much until
the last licked thread lingers
a great long time in the wrong mouth,
the bitten cheeks and punctual
lips pursed to help fingers
to sequel the camel,
balance the angels,
squish out the remaining air,
the gaps, the light in the gaps.
The light is in the gaps now,
tire dish now, surer than that
tire dish now, please be speaking
on between sundowns. On after the overs
and he is gone now, those are his now.
This isn't ours or us anymore.
Some sentences tear apart
and tear apart the aperture
where the light works, the hole surrenders.

This is a Job for Super Kent

The Greatest Living Actor? Certainly. His cleft lip scar to me is mesmerizing....wonderful. And this too is wonderful.

"What can you tell us about your days with the Una Bomber?" Letterman to Phoenix

Anselm Berrigan interlocutes an eloquent statement to an offscreen partner regarding his own particular refusenik status pertaining perhaps to poetry or perhaps to angelism scornforkery. Hard to tell but all the same, it's worth a read and holds the reader save for a bit of clumsy shirk-quirkspew in the middle. Perhaps he is not the most boring poet alive afterall.

http://peacockonlinereview.com/poems/july10/anselm_berrigan.pdf

Back from the old country again and everything is just as I left it...in both places. Not a shred of evidence that anyone whatsoever has been in either residence since I last closed a door and vanished. That spooks the heck out of me and condolences then, yes.

Haris Homestead, 09/10

We know exactly where the grapes
these figs start and stop
where they fell and by which
hand they are brought to tent
and table, I wish for a longer
but less a vist than a lifestyle,
on the two banks of the ocean,
the water spelling and spreading
me, my eyes, cutting
all this property we've acquired
all of this in half, even
the memory of which closet
I locked last
is parceled out like summer
melon, the fog is sure
rolling in, peeling up
the summer layers, the weddings
scalping the low low waves
of the Mediterranean Sea
as boys are prepared for school,
each new book is a promise
and each girls' first smile
but there's no one to stop this
moving on that we're doing,
no tree to grab onto
as we flash by and away
years at a time.

Fantabulous poem, great reading and spooktacular book cover. Kate Hall reads Insomnia from her book The Certainty Dream

British Islamophobes Go Berserk

In The Mines Of Mexico They Weep

Now there shall be a man cohered out of tumult and chaos . . . . the elder encourages the younger and shows him how . . . they two shall launch off fearlessly together till the new world fits an orbit for itself and looks unabashed on the lesser orbits of the stars and sweeps through the ceaseless rings and shall never be quiet again. - Walt Whitman, in the preface to Leaves of Grass.

In a twilight pilgrimmage
via these frost cracked streets
close to the Campbell shaft
full of our fathers breath and breathing,
we unfold our own cloth on the Fourth of July,
one crease at a time on the crags
near the ballpark in Warren, down from
the Loma Linda and the old mine-boss housing.
Flashlights dangle from the hands
of children. The night catches us deeply
unaware, but they don't think like that,
they are that,
think more about the starting time,
and the firemen on top of the dumps
who signal the end by waving lanterns,
how they crave that sort of thing
up there on those mountains of slag
thinking, as ours do, of the breath
of canaries and candles deep in those old holes.

A persistent and unheard whimper
fills space on this weary-
happy picnic in July or maybe
it only fills the weariness with something else.
I clasp a child tight in my arms,
a finger closes the tender wound,
hush hush, our waiting begins, we settle down.
Our Fourth of July is in sweet tortuous ruins
thrown in a trash bin of appetites lost.
We've run from one excitement to another

races, parades, contests, reunions
thankful for a gentle sun, there was no burning
and there will be few scars if any.
The miles between this and that
contract like stars in heaven where
light reaches us much too late
and we as well, get there accordingly.

This is the anniversary of all
that's happened here
for each body on this ragged old quilt,
each poor soul and dumbstruck
face tipped up toward the sky.
The silence between one person and the next
is only the truth where commentary has failed.
I look around me one last time
before the sun takes all the light away -
count the faces I own, erase what's left,
a small town thing to do on an occasion like this.

The darkness is complete and the fireworks begin.
My daughter tells me, during one of the beautiful
interims which goes like this:

ooh, aah, wonderful! then another interim and another,

one day the sun will die

as copper sulphur spark comets flower dark,
my father scatters in the sky,

Oh! Mufasa, talk to me!

First draft sometime 03/06 however the sketch for this poem much earlier...probably in the mid 90's.

Bisbee Blues Fest, September 25, 2010

Artist Videos here:


https://thebisbeebluesfestival.com/artist-videos/

http://www.azcentral.com/thingstodo/galleriesmuseums/articles/2009/06/01/20090601johnsonobit0601.html

Border Patrol Suicides Skyrocket

"It's unclear exactly why the men ended their lives. Few of them left notes. And the Border Patrol seems somewhat at odds with itself over the issue. The agency declined to provide details of the suicides and would only confirm the number of deaths since 2008. But the AP uncovered the names, locations and dates of the suicides by reviewing public records, including those obtained from medical examiners through the Freedom of Information Act, and speaking with people close to the Border Patrol."

Read between the lines wudja? I guarantee you, none of them were poets.

Alfombra Roja

-an explanation of the Cuban Necktie and the Disneyland Similacra of the Underworld of the Sicarios.

"Julio Scherer García, doyen of independent journalism in Mexico, recently published an illuminating book: La reina del Pacífico. For months, Scherer visited Sandra Ávila Beltrán in the penitentiary where she has been held since September 28, 2007. Presented to the media as if she were the “Queen of the South” from Arturo Pérez Reverte’s novel, Ávila has all the necessary traits to captivate the public imagination. She is a beautiful, strong, defiant woman, imprisoned by a weak head of state who broke his bones falling off a bicycle (a kindergartner’s accident), and who is further diminished by the suits he wears (on him they all look extra-large). The Queen was irresistible prey for a president with small feet. Displaying her to the public is part of a larger propaganda strategy that has done nothing to diminish the brutal impact of the drug trade."

"According to what she tells Scherer, Ávila’s involvement in crime has been less direct and in a certain way more alarming than what her jailers suggest. At 44, she has never known a life outside the drug trade. She talks about the industry the way Sofia Coppola might talk about film. She had open lines of communication to all the noteworthy capos, was kidnapped by a delinquent boyfriend, has been married to two narcos (one a corrupt police commander), underwent the kidnapping of her adolescent son, has watched people die at her feet, and has had at her disposal all the parties, all the jewels, all the cars, all the mansions (each occupied only for a couple of weeks)—every excess purchasable for cash. Although she studied journalism for a semester at the Universidad Autónoma de Guadalajara, she was not familiar with Julio Scherer, the country’s best-known journalist. For forty-four years she lived in a world apart, like the inmates of Biosphere 2.

The landscape has been transformed by the investment of dirty money. Any Mexican city features plenty of locations to film the death of a capo or a police commander. There, the ideal restaurant: a plastic and neon château where waitresses in miniskirts serve brontosaurus ribs, next to a Mercedes-Benz dealership and a hotel that looks like a mosque with Plexiglas cupolas. Places like Torreón or Mérida, which until recently had reputations as calm cities (because it was assumed that the narcos who built their homes there didn’t use them for “work”) have now also become the settings for executions.

In the new environment of fear, 10,000 companies offer security services, and close to 3,000 people have had a chip the size of a grain of rice implanted under their skin so that they can be easily located in the event of kidnapping. "

My boys in Bisbee Part I and II starring Beto's Taco Stand, the Health Department, High School and the red Grand Am.

John Latta contemplates the Mentor/Manatee existence

http://isola-di-rifiuti.blogspot.com/2010/08/roberto-bolano-william-faulkner.html

Two Latta Paintings of Words with fine last lines and appropriateness. Poems that teach the poem about itself and what could be better than that!

Not my gospell Squall, my
Arch and holler, my sacerdotal
Imperium, my squawk, my Gun. -John Latta from Cold and Arch in Typo Mag #3

Christopher Hitchens and Cancer

Superheroes in Super Places from Krypton to the Kaaba

Sign of the Times

"Mobbing" is the term that has been coined for an increasingly common phenomenon in primarily Western employment environments that leads to divorce, unemployment and it has been documented in at least one study that 12% of all suicides experienced a 'mobbing' event shortly before they took their own life.

http://chronicle.com/article/What-Killed-Kevin-Morrissey-/123902/?sid=at&utm_source=at&utm_medium=en

Suicide at prestigious Virginia Quarterly Review stirs concern over workplace bullying:

Family members and people close to the review say Mr. Morrissey, the review's managing editor, had been complaining to the university about workplace bullying by his boss, Ted Genoways. But, they contend, the institution did virtually nothing to help. "Kevin had been to the university as recently as the Monday before the Friday he died," says a person who worked for the review. "The university had tools to step in and mediate, and they didn't." Some close to the situation say that in the days before the death, they even warned the university that Mr. Morrissey, who suffered from serious depression, might commit suicide."


"They say Mr. Genoways, in turn, began cutting Mr. Morrissey out of key decisions and distancing himself from the office, refusing to answer staff members' e-mail messages, shirking many of his day-to-day duties, and dumping most of the work on his small staff. "The whole staff felt Ted took all the credit and did none of the work," said the person who worked for the review, adding that Mr. Genoways spent most of his time at VQR "scrambling to be a star." Mr. Genoways has been away from the office on a Guggenheim fellowship in recent months, but he still has been responsible for making sure the journal's issues are finished on time."

Ah Ramadan Kareem and it is

Evidence Reveals Direct Israeli Involvement
in the 2005 "Valentine's Day Assassination" of Rafik Hariri
in Beirut Lebanon. Simultaneously, other evidence was provided that demonstrates the way Hezbollah managed to capture at least 9 IDF commandoes several years prior in the village of Anjar which in turn demonstrates the advanced technology available that has enabled the world's most beloved resistance army to beat not one superpower but two and not once but thrice.

Footage intercepted by Hezbollah directly from Israeli sources embedded in the IDF and shows Israel directly monitoring the route upon which Hariri was to take when his safety warning system (the most high tech in the world and obtained from Israel to boot) was jammed. The evidence has been surpressed by Hezbollah due to the fact that it would weaken their security and the security of Lebaon if Israel knew their capabilities to intercept this data. Now, because the UN tribunal which was stacked in order to blame Hezbollah has begun, Hezbollah had no choice. It will however generate even more support now at this midnight hour for the legitimacy and rights not only of Hezbollah to retain their weapons for deterrence but to eventually transmute those into weapons and philosophy shared by the mostly Shi'i Lebanese Army.




Jews the biggest victims of the hate crime known as Zionism





Two million plus hits and counting ....gee....as many hits as Silliman has received in a lifetime




"Multiple Subjectivities" versus the exploitation of women's clothing, the role of the Hollywood script in abducting and unveiling not only Arab/Oriental women but women in general. A very interesting point is made about the script of the inferiority of various cultural dress codes from the inferiority of the Victorian era and it's collision with the scantily clad sub Saharan/North African female versus the inverse relationship now in which American scantily clad women are considered not only superior but exceptionally so when compared to their poor muslim sisters.

40,000 rockets and counting

Finally. Israel formally implicated in the Valentine's Day assassination of ex Prime Minister of Lebanon. About time I say, about time. The crater was so obviously caused by an aerial bombing and a person would have to be blind to have missed that. Or on the Israeli payroll. And apparently about a 100 people were on that payroll, many of them high ranking officials in the security apparatus in Lebanon, the army as well as employees in the telecommunications industry.



http://www.dailystar.com.lb/article.asp?edition_id=1&categ_id=2&article_id=118133#axzz0wMoUghsV

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the US Senate Committee on Foreign Relations discusses the unbelievable (and apparently unpronouncable for the chairman who is a bit tongue tied) increase in strength and importance of Hezbollah in the region and the world (as a proxy of Iran of course, yadayada). The guy is hopelessly biased towards Israel and against the Lebanese people who it is well known by now, support not only the resistance but the actual and legitimate political party that represents a variety of sects not solely the Shia muslims of Lebanon.

http://foreign.senate.gov/hearings/hearing/?id=de51c6a4-5056-a032-52bc-dcf1f13de7ae

"Unless Hezbollah is defeated completely, in detail", well yes Doctor Norton. And it can't be defeated. Game over. And you are most welcome at bayt Sweid in Haris any time you care to stop in for a cup of tea. My pleasure.

Eloquence Found in Trash Can Called Chicago



Thanks to Micheal Rothenberg who kindly remembers me with each new Big Bridge issue, I'd like to suggest further reading for those who are too important to watch TV over at Silliman's house without really knowing why they are there doing so anymore and Ron practicing some form of idealized business communication much like the newest on the scene known as rimming, Reflective Information Management. The following thesis cum essay cum review hails from one Linda Rogers who I know nothing about. I do say though, the woman can write, think and dictate promises to me all she wants to (kicking that ole die hard Perloff right to the curb), promises about the political kingdom come we find ourselves in nowadays. The Cuban story which anymore is the story of dissidentism backwards and from the rear view mirror in poetry which no doubt would please my former colleague and editor Circles Robinson who now runs The Havana Times (last account anyway) from his home somewhere in Latinia, where he has been exiled for who knows how long. I found this while looking for something about Thax Douglas a troubadour in the highest sense of the word who writes poems for Rock Bands and gets into concerts for free. I happened upon a little Thax chapbook at the thrift store (who on earth would throw out a book of poetry especially from such an underground and persuasive metaphysical metaphorist?)....and began reading through it and imagining all the young boys I've had around lately who would benefit from such a magnificent and humble gift as a first edition signed copy of Rock Band Portraiture from their cougar mamma poet in residence, chief cook and bottle washer too.

POETRY AND THE SOCIAL GOSPEL
The Captivity and Liberation of Language

"I knew a child who lived on the wild side and painted pictures with no borders between his phenomenal and spirit worlds. His only rule was the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

He then encountered an elementary school teacher who moonlighted as a free soul bounty hunter. She would break his spirit and prove that his indigo wisdom and difficulty decoding language was waywardness. By the end of grade one, the boy was drawing heavy lines around every character; this is the church, this is the steeple… "

Internationalism versus Globalism in Literature
Is there a difference between a tourist and a tourist?

-"Thanks to your visit" A sign outside of the Maronite town in South Lebanon Bint Jubail, the site of the most recent battle with Zionism which to many people represents the reason why this essay is profoundly unenlightening. Thanks to YOUR visit Israel, English speakers do not even realize the word for earth is Arz.

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/journal/article.html?id=239464&commentsubmit=true#lastcomment

Ange Mlinko writes of her short stay in Beirut during a contested election. Unfortunately she gives the impression of gunmen on every block when in fact she was situated literally, within a block or two of the "Capitol Building". So yes, there are typically "machine gun armed" soldiers near any structure in the WORLD in which heads of state meet to discuss gas prices.

She describes 'fanatical' Arabic language patterns.....hmm. The Lebanese are very anal retentive people Ms. Mlinko. Very. Do not mistake their dialect for the less exact (not) classical Arabic. The Lebanese have improved the di-glossial (rather than 'fanatical as she puts it) language (fuhsa), improving it with a rather franco-phile flourish. As English speakers who have no classical intent left within our mutt-speak, we fail to understand the beauty of classical wonders exposed to cultural wonders which produce dialects:

"It’s dispiriting, I wrote in my journal, to have everything reduce to sectarianism—even the colloquial Arabic of my language class is tainted, I learn. Ah, he must be Muslim, said Miriam’s mother as she listened to me recite the phrases he had taught us for greetings and farewells. “Some of that is more literary Arabic.” “We say mneha, not aal, for ‘I’m fine,’ and we don’t say bihatrak, we say au revoir.” Then Miriam characterized the concern with the purity of Arabic as “fanatic”: at bottom it is about the sanctity of the language the Koran is written in. Fanatic too, she thought, was the insistence of her English professor last year that she write e-mail in formal language, not texting abbreviations. Language is for communication, she insisted, so what’s the harm if “you are” turns into “u r”?"

Mon Dieu!

It has literally nothing to do with religion so much as it has to do with a professor who hopes to teach a student the complicated and important role language has in all Pan Arab societies in which newspapers and television broadcast 'media Arabic' which is a close relative of the Egyptian Arabic (thought to be the most exact and teachable) in comparison to Fuhsa itself or 'Quran' Arabic. Educators only come in two varieties in the Levant, purists and charlatans and they cannot be identified by their out-of-date plaid coats...not usually anyway. There is a note of preservation in the discussion of 'classical' languages...you know..the PC concept or rather notion of the loss of culture through the watering down of same said 'languages'. Modern Arabic or rather, Lebanese has been infected with mutt-speak and there are no words for some ideas like 'television' and 'telephone' not to mention there is no P in the alphabet and Pepsi becomes Bebsi.

And, just a little note, the Quran is spelled with a Q and a U. With a Q. With a U. The anunciation of a short o followed by the vowel a sans silent e, inevitably produces the bastardization which has been disseminated in the English speaking media as "Koran" (a very unpretty sound) instead of the dove like Quran. Hear it? Stop spreading this type of mistake by stopping the spread of such stereotyped sound patterns in 'our' culture. I say 'our' but truly, the Western culture is no longer my home. Far from it, it's a tour of a church and a valley.

"Mogrehbi" or Moroccan has become a buzz word in this valley called Americana by the way. Mogrehb 'jumaa' and 'djumma' is like genie to jinn is to djinn. It is a difference between alphabets, not dialects. If it were, the description would be one of Mogrehbi as being nearly impenetrable to most Arabic speakers (be they Lebanese, Egyptian or Oxford type-trainees such as yourself). It is spoken in North Africa all the way up into the Gizan area of Saudi Arabia by the Saudis themselves...the poor ones in that rural and mountainous zone so chock full of types of people who look more like Laplanders than they do inner city American school educated Saudi citizens. So of course he was confused...you were asking if the same word was different.

The name for university (Jumaa) translates most closely to "school of thought" as in, SoQ poetry or the like. It is an ethos minded word and is applied in a most religious sense to the five Madhabs in Islam. (Four if you ask the Sunnites who deny Shia their rightful place in Islamic history.) More importantly, it should be pointed out that the generic terms such as 'madrasa' have been taken wholly out of context in the West to mean 'terrorist' academies when in fact madrasa literally translates to school, elementary to be exact or any sub-level institution that falls more on the three RRRs than it does the philology scale (jumaa).

Even more interesting is the origin (first attested to a Latin origin) of the word TUTOR. It's actual origin is much more likely to be the same as madrasa...that much feared category of terrorese. Tudros (poor transliteration on my part) which is Arabic for "to study" or 'you study' and the root of maderroos (teacher), like all familiar groups of words in Arabic is highly relational to the issue of the transference of information which is headed off with 'da-ra-sa' (my son's best guess at the root letters). As with all Arabic root words, there are three consonants which are then taken and manipulated via the use of phoneticized vowel sounds to mean: teacher, school, learn, etc. Unlike English in which the word for school has literally nothing to do with the word to teach.

And the last paragraph is priceless....a Mohameddan is mentioned....are you uh stammering starlet like a Mohameddan? Yes, it is best to keep people guessing in Beirut but if you have to guess......perhaps you ought to rethink posting essays about it. Or maybe not, I do not mean to sound ungrateful on my own behalf or behalf of the poor Lebanese. It's so nice to see the little country that thinks it is big look a little bigger even if its through the eyes of a poorly trained observer. Next time you get the chance, ask him if he is Druze or Habashi. That will get you into the conversation you hope to have regardless of what he is or isn't. You'll find out about your spy schools and hostage places.

Furthermore, if investigating the nature of the exile (Beirut and Liban happen to be a city and a country of natural exiles, all of them escaping some dynasty or t'other) poet, one would hope a citation of Darwish be present in the actual discussion (but this essay was not a discussion so much as it was an honorary and complacent acknowledgement, literally a postcard with a poet in it feeling poetry like). A few lines from Darwish might have set the piece up brilliantly because Darwish was an external internal exile who is mistaken by the un-informed as an 'Arab' or rather, a 'resident' Arab and spokeman. Much like I am an exile in my own country, there are several levels to exilism beyond the merely personal which Ms. Mlinko portrays here in her essay that likely took less than an hour or two to compose from a few journal entries.

"Beirut is a city of gold and fatigue." or "Beirut, our tent, our star." Something along those lines anyway from a rather dated interview given when I too, was just a 'tourist' rather than what I am now, an exile in my own hometown.


On Beveled Glass and Annas

The Boxer C- Male Rebellion

I have a bedridden patient who, as it turns out, is a fabulous but relatively unknown poet. I discovered this on one of my weekly visits to her home (to change things, draw serum, write notes about her survival and looming potential for not surviving) when I mentioned that I was happy that Black July was over. In Black July we lost a couple of nurses to life forces and I had to take over their case loads as well as continue my own. It was horrendous, the paycheck was quite large. I told her that I was a poet and needed the time to moonlight again. And what do you know, she said she is a poet and that day I asked to go through her archives (in a bedside drawer)...mostly written before she began to deteriorate and most of the pieces originate in the liberalism of the Beatles generation. She relates that she used to be involved in Performance Poetry. I didn't expect to find what I found. Not at all. A real poet, a good one. Since that little visit, we've been having readings at her bedside. The first week of course was her work (I had to read it as her eyes aren't so good anymore and she interjected points at which she expected the audience to participate in her performances), the second week I read from my own (Odes and Fight Song) and this week I brought a book I knew she would just love by CAConrad, The Book of Frank and she did. Her favorite poet is Maxine here and I did not have any knowledge of Ms. Kingston so here it is.....what a funny lady. Oh life is delightful and perhaps I will be able to find a way to get my friend published again.....she so deserves it and has no ability to participate in a war except with death anymore. Listen to the poem about the Elephant Seals and it so fits the situation. No wonder my lady loves Maxine. No wonder at all.

Notes on the Boxer Rebellion


Man is a wonderful creature; he sees through the layers of fat (eyes), hears through a bone (ears) and speaks through a lump of flesh (tongue). =Emir Ali ibn Abi Taleb, Commander of the Faithful, May Allah be pleased with him, from the ever wonderful and sublime, Peak of Eloquence (Najul al Balagha)

With each one of these instantaneous purviews, I find myself more intrigued with what this earth shattering occurrence means to 'people' (if you could call poets that). It's so bad that I haven't even watched Nancy Grace in two days! This, believe it or not, is more important to me than missing children. Hint: Someone please do the milk carton graphic for me pulease?

This has got to be one of the most brilliantly funny though. It says to me or at least I think it says, Has Ron lost his marbles?

Or it might be saying, is Ron Silliman pointing a finger at all of the er...friends...who communicate via his comments box...and they deserve so much blame and are so utterly blameworthy as to warrant a cut off of electrical power to their slums?

http://isola-di-rifiuti.blogspot.com/2010/08/he-that-gathereth-togither-nothing.html

The gods and goddesses, who attend to the spurious and foolish (and all the accompanying -fuel’d antics)’d probably conclude Jessica Smith and Ron Silliman a match made at heaven’s gate, that glory-portal to exaggeration and deceit. (Like Dylan’s Desolation Row, nobody knows if the aim’s to enter or exit.) Smith, sounding the alarums: “poetry’s youth is being trampled, discouraged and undermined with a potential long-term detrimental effect on Poetry.” Or: “If a talented young poet like Massey is turned off of writing for even a few days or weeks as a result of being skewered by a few robotic-hearted cyberbullies, even that brief interlude is a loss for Poetry.” (Great wringing of hands, tearing out hair, &c. in a maenad frenzy for Poetry.) I suspect that high-mind’d rhetorical claptrap’s a direct descendent of Silliman’s own “tactical” excesses—just how many extravagant claims’s he made? (Something I entirely suspect’s a disservice particularly to younger poets, stymieing or stultifying one at some “minimal” point (de repère) rather than spurring one onwards.) Statements like Silliman’s “I routinely reject a half dozen comments every day that are sexist, homophobic or anti-Semitic. Moderating the comments stream at times makes me want to take a shower” smack of the kind of “unverifiable” governments routinely use to prop up security arguments. (Silliman’s odd brand of “govspeak” is evident, too, in awkward phrases like “gender rebalancing” and “the self-destructive credo of the poet-as-addict.”)

And I might add...you have just got to take a look at the photo at the bottom of that wonderfully wonderful acerbic wordfest with the caption:

Ron Silliman Caught Stowing Public Comments in a Bag

The Case of Jughead and Veronica versus Nagasaki, the Jim Behrle chronicles

A Kent Johnson flashback to the days when disruptive behavior was the norm or at least, the norm at Silliman's house. The party is over. The world is now a much better place thanks to Ron Silliman.

http://www.skankypossum.com/pouch/archives/000099.html

"Yet what is perhaps most astonishing about all this is the following: Behrle carries out his activities with hardly a peep of objection from the "politically progressive" post-avant poetry community. He even has, in fact, the open endorsement and admiration of some of the most prominent bloggers (not least a few who are fond of engaging in solemn ruminations about ethics and the building of tolerance and community). What I suggested somewhat fancifully in one of my postings on Silliman’s blog bears saying again in more straightforward form: The tacit acceptance on the part of such a large and supposedly "socially sensitive" community of such abusive, manipulative, and figuratively violent conduct is disturbing to say the least. I don’t mean that all concerned approve of Behrle’s behavior: there is no doubt (and I know of more than a few examples) that some are intimidated into silence by his wildly vengeful histrionics. But beyond the silence, there are, as I said, prominent figures who do openly praise and coddle Mr. Behrle, despite regular, bountiful examples of the conduct I have outlined above--and despite the fact that his "poetry blog" seems almost totally uninterested in poetics except as a social network for the propagation of his egocentric excitements. All of this, I’d argue, is worth reflecting on.

I believe this little flame-incident of the past few days, then (one fresh enough so that erotic lingerie souvenirs, bearing my name hand-sewn by Mr. Behrle himself, can still be purchased—"this will be the closest Kent Johnson ever comes to rubbing his face against human genitals," as he charmingly puts it on his blog), points up a certain "problem" in the still infant world of poetry blogdom. It might be good for other poets to begin thinking a bit more about it. If one or two people do, then I am glad I "lost it," as they say, and gave Mr. Behrle a brief but healthy taste of his own distasteful tonic.2 " -Kent Johnson, 2004

Kirby Olson at lutheransurrealism blog lets off a little steam and garners the Prize for Best of Comment Box Comments which shall be awarded daily until they stop appearing. I do believe it is a bit of a protest, oddly enough that may have started in the year 2007.

http://lutheransurrealism.blogspot.com/2007/11/comments-box-over-at-sillimans-blog.html

"I think poetry would be better if it cooled it with the attempt to curtail freedom of speech and instead just spilled over into Rabelaisian grotsqueries in which greater and greater forms of uglinesses were not only permitted but encouraged and there was no attempt at all to teach but rather the mode of delight was turned up full blast. Then maybe I could stand to read poetry again. Right now it's all nice thoughts, and there's nothing in there to break up the boredom. Since Plato there has been this attempt to get poetry and its fans to behave, and to stay within some square ideological deal set out by some benign imperatrix or another. Could poetry please bust out into Rabelaisian populism?

Could comments boxes?

Ron has made many remarks in favor of Jefferson and such but were they just appetizers and the main course total suppression of dissent? I'd like him to prove that Pol Pot is his truest colleague, not Jefferson. Pol Pot said to the prisoners in Prison 17 (or am I thinking of Stalag 17?) that even to roll over in their sleep without permission would lead to a hundred lashes. 3 prisoners of some 14,000 processed in that prison survived it. Perhaps they had mastered the art of sleeping without movement, or they had actually gotten their written requests into the state for permission to turn over. Only problem: the ability to write was itself sentenced by capital punishment! Catch-22 at Prison 17!"

Kirby Olson, long time participant in the blog comments box wars, from November 2007

Each word is a style,
some are better last
some are worst first,
and those that make you smile.

atlas/atlas

What holds up
life not limbs but illusion
in time stretched
forward past center
poles and paradise
with worms and thread
in reverse and standstill.
So drifty as the stars may be
above when able-bodied
progenitors without
skeletal axis
without axis,
stapes or digit ride
upon a road with
continuous lack of end and lap
each other in constance,
kiss in their small collision
with futile precise precision,
they cry importantly
as iron gods do.
Yet this is already here,
an arrow in the spine
of your longing.