Sunday, June 23, 2013

some more short lyric like fragment for BBQ

I do not see it as a problem or wrong doing to provide an archive with this blog of the way Barbecue  is being put together. This sort of collage and mosaic method rests as much on the poetics being put together, revised and rewritten as the final printed versions may be. And some more...

embellishment as the words are passed along
adding exit clauses to gay liberation stories
day light and curfew after sunset imposed by
parents limiting his movements and night time
meetings only some passed as a sleep over with
his high school best bud and could have been boy
friend except knowing each other and loving
like brothers this would be perhaps too much
like incest not that they see any wrong with
this being ways can and love may happen no real
needs for prohibition except their loving is
illegal in too many ways each approachable as
arrests and ending in court a large fine or
in prison and we just now really know fighting
is the only way just now left open and to go

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

...and more fragment BBQ

Frayed at the edges narrative which go nowhere;  there are tables left vacant, as time passes. Unusual traumas and lost at a young age suggest a frayed to the breaking point narrative image. The lost positioned by HIV/AIDS still remains to be wrapped up,  if it may ever be, living in chronic fatigue.

an age of neuralgia and nostalgia, and grey
sitting by pink camellias in flower, a garden
for which you no longer can care, delay is
all that happens now, way pass an age where

if it comes to that, goodbye is enough, no
we do not have bad regrets, my funeral I do
not care, that is up to you still alive who
can still decide and have it continue toward

for sure that which we not yet know, can we
think again if the choices are against life
if such dice throws may shut down to zero so
we alive may hide in under ground shelters

what is to be good for techno cyber-mechanical
underground complex linked hidden bunkers of
a failing master nationality is ongoing wars
of type and sorts disguised as minor squabbles

past times contractors did their cybernetics
and arguments went so far and ends with easy
this is new ways we are going to have it done
supplying novel little wars across geographics

it is sending most secret messages, such that
admittance of communication cannot be known
yet the secret must be known or risk a leak
into green cyber swamp ocean swilling across

lines on tidal water edges to land definitions
and secrets in a bottle may wash up on shore
but who is there who opens and carefully reads
messages obscure belonging to some other time

paper printed charts way out of date, getting
lost at sea like lost in endless sand deserts
and quiet back in the garden smelling roses
and more flowers, thousands of flowers bloom

Wednesday, June 12, 2013


...some more BBQ  drafts...

from, post-traumatic stress disorder
there's that word again, it was need
a decade in a job killing thousands
computer desktop running ms os

and make enough to retire for life
expecting an early demise, spend
big, over indulge with drink and drugs
clashes between police and protesters

and the government did not back down
he wiped a few thousand out, on his
desktop machine running ms os, too
neat, he watched all die in pixels

like his own fellow citizens, can he
ever come over this cold sharp erasure
it was the delete key that did them in
he was taught to get hard and orgasm

masculine sexual response, on a video
 where death and porn come together
and it is not supposed as such as real
just a desk job, in the armed services

while running for political office, open
a campaign fund bank account, let funds
flow in from donating wealthy sponsors
and run  quickly away disappearing face

transfer gold to some secret vault lost
while sailing way off shore and no beacon
request for care until too late rescue now
not possible and it must have all gone down

gold sinks quickly into a deep blue ocean
and the bid for election still floats on
water drifting out there, now Arctic ice
seeding another melting iceberg to sink

an un-expecting heavy iron ship, ripped
apart by government policies and a nation's
most top political journalist wrap it up
this to be human in up-turned and strife

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

death at sea, more BBQ fragment

dying at sea in the middle of the night

through infra red binoculars i watch
as sharks rip off both his legs warm
infra red blood fades to black, then
away with his life, dear he was to me
you chose to sail with me, he could not
live, he knew too much of who i am

a cold killer, danger to get too close
i should have said beware, would this
then be true, would this requiem need
be written in this secretive manner

some more fragment BBQ

Some fragment of filial narrative...

slotted into lower middle class
          working class to be true

bigots hide behind
           invented gods

gods                human inventions
what claims are made in their names

impossible to believe
          faith          so lost

there is a lost kid         he is my son
he fears faggot             in the locker room
high school sports day            the word that is
         and he don't know        what it is he feels
just fear        anguish trauma          no shame

he's not permitted shame            that most
adolescent of emotions              shame being a kid
         seek shame              so at least
he can say             human again

Saturday, June 8, 2013

...and some boyfriend talk for Barbecue

This below fragment is almost close to a first draft, or as close as a text editor will allow. From here it is going to have to find a way of fitting in with the rest of the narrative, like a new kid in school. BBQ is now looking like a book length long poem and perhaps verse novel in as much as the collage narrative is dialogic and novelistic and not the monologic form of lyric poetry (after Bakhtin's essays.) It is called boyfriend talk just so a directory full of txt files can be sorted. Poem titles are going to be deleted so BBQ is one long dialogic  poem.

Boyfriend talk

you're really hot in the sack
not able to guess his response
we could go all day and night
a hard day's night screwing
like bunnies making a plague

is a good time we are
he shops his lover like
a department store and
very rich no limit
magnetic card they
leave a doorman opening
doors into a big motor
car like we did at
all times like yes

who is to get over there
first and make all grades
top shelf nothing less have
standards we do none other
are you going to cry out
hard and loud the walls
are all soundproof none
will hear screams of love

except the lovers on a
bear skin rug in front
of an artificial gas fire
not providing any heat
central heating for that
and rooms are never cold
high up and streets below

we want to pick where to
go next blindfold with a
pin into a map that's it

a powerful sports car is
wasted in grid lock city
cars inching and stopping
yet he drives it still a
roaring 12 cylinder motor
empties a small fuel tank
to save weight very fast

a prime wealth display
an excuse for a car not
able to go anywhere
quick that walking is
quicker to get there
this is a scarlet high
power many layers of
hand applied paint car

he smiles to himself at
his boyfriend trying to
impress he is so cute
he would be better with
a two seater city commuter
hybrid or a driver with a big
brute of hard steel military
strength squashing any that
may seem begin to object
and other such fancy of love

the armed forces will bull
dose them through city
jams with new roads behind
a schedule of traffic growth
on paper computer projected
needs for the next 20 years

and he just wants to be with
his boyfriend now is that
too much an ask let traffic
splintering steel grind still
slow scream of colliding metal
and plastic cracking up glass
shatters safe in little cubes

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Collage and cut up

...another draft poem for BBQ using cut up and collage of digital news feeds... like Burroughs cut ups get edited to fit in and be done from yr head, no need to cut up physically

meta data up


        extraordinary repudiation

 pretense of constraint

        particular  suspicion

                    does precisely that

the data base of war on spinning digital disk after spinning disk

extreme interpretation of law

            excessive domestic surveillance

suspected of being an agent
        terrorist group

    this hostile foreign state

    rights &    finite set of individual targets

and i let him shoot inside me & come with me

and i wore that itch he gave me

        inside for a month

            until antibiotics got things right

        sleep with a secret service officer

    swinging he says both ways

        & carry sexual filial infections

along with a sub machine gun pistol
            under their off the hook coat

            badly fitting