Discosextain II (or Seventina II) by JKD

after Sean S Seventina I

*
Pre-espresso, taking lubes, heroine-chic post-acidhead we were
The 70s going for the Disco glam, the sequins, lounging out in a
post-hippy haze, listening to K-Tel record’s Top One Hundred:
Gloria Gaynor, Donna Summer, Stevie Wonder
Groovin’ to the Bee-Gees on Solid Gold Saturday afternoons.
In white polyester bellbottoms, Sat Night Fever style, thinkin’
If Barney Miller isn’t Bewitched, then perhaps we are Bob Marley?


NOTE: Sean S & I call on everyone for this miniproject: 11 7-line minipoems/stanzas all about the 70s. See comments for more.

seventina 1 by sean s

O Abba, hear me. A decade of fever and grease
echoed forth by wars of love onto lost Ilian wavelets,
the hammy Attican cry of a thousand hoodlums and actors.
Xanadu spilling, gowned in Olivia Newton-John and ELO,
across skin, an appeal to Ovid on Saturday night (that is, weekly),
while the OSI sends cyborgs to fight the Soviets
but never the Vietnamese.

Deny by JW

Cut up created from a dozen or so recent Rewords poems.

After an anonymous 16th century optical riddle by Jonathan Regier

A sun in eclipse, although with the coin of the moon not
Fully spun atop her, the blazing sun in half-eclipse, in semi-eclipse,
Through the crosswise pattern of fingers held up, likewise through

Put what I don't have in the sink. I'll wash it with what I do have.

Put the plates on the plates and the bowls on the bowls.

Swivel by Amanda Deutch (Newish)

Swivel

Type explosion
Mixplosion
*******“girls girls”

live girls
*********(do the dead ones dance too?)

imageways
the taking of 1,2,3

**re locate of your own

beer-stout, ipa
***********and
gardenias


--2004

In tunnels by RQ

after Myopic Lines by JKD

They turned against me

in tunnels and pressed

my face into gravelly pools;

I breathed and the pellets

grazed my brain,

whittling my hippocamp

to the shape of a chestnut;

they turn against me I thought

were of my kin, kicking my ankles

each time I try to rise.

Myopic Lines by JKD (New)

After 3 lines by American poet, editor & critic Hank Lazer from his poem 78 in the book Days (Lavendar Ink, 2002)

« they took turns longing
against the narratives »
tuning forks and pitch
they turned against me
in tunnels, white dusted
emergence lounged against
star-studded fissures
walls hemming us in
stitched to walls hindering
us they took tales down
scratching that which
we could not mouth to
I the corner of the cell
or you would purchase rings
on another continent in
light bright yellow they
squint in the shadows
picking at sores taking
down the final words of
each passing each to
which handle now I take
my turn dusting the dark
off into the night the light
of curve surfaceward
impossible reaching story

Underearthed by JKD

After Amy Hollowell’s Part Song on Late Curve & Blue Mirror Song

my uneven hand branches
into the dirt we love
like radishes bright
red blush in the midnight soil
scavenging hunger thirst
bodies symmetrical breaking

Part 4: Song on the Late Curve, by Amy Hollowell

after AD’s Part 1 and Part 3 and AH’s Part 2


And on the late curve of afternoon
we are symmetrical, my love,
part good, part not,
two in one uneven pile at the window
outside and in
with snow, wine and song.

Part 3: shape shape mirror human song, by Amanda Deutch, after Amy Hollowell's Part 2

We are one
Part part
blue
mirrors of a
afternoons
hands atop hands
atop hands
atop
uneven song of love, my dirt
eyes, lips, voice, bone, branches
curve

into one
shape
singing
'we.'

Part 2: A Blue Mirror Song, by Amy Hollowell

after Part 1: a new year’s eve poem by Amanda Deutch

We are one shape
singing a blue mirror song
into afternoon with eyes, lips, voice, bone
my uneven hand atop the curve and branches,
that human dirt I love.

New: Part 1: a new year’s eve poem by Amanda Deutch

Part 1: a new year’s eve poem

I am in love with dirt

wine bottle
bought in Brooklyn Heights
with dirt
in the late afternoon…
snow coats
the hand.
branches curve
outside my window
snowmen atop cars
shovels scrape

When I was 13, I was obsessed
with Audrey Hepburn
and that song.

in the bone
in the bone

no shape
Mooooon River aaannnnd…… me.
scrape
pile filings
blue moon
two moons
one voice
a human voice

a good drawer,
I used to draw
lips, horses, eyes.
human beings
are not symmetrical.
We are uneven.

shpilkes from two espressos
I am singing
Moon River into the mirror
on New Year’s Eve.

a human voice