Friday, December 28, 2012

Palm Reading by Jennifer K Dick

After Cole Swensen’s poem “Fingers: Alignment” from The Book of a Hundred Hands (U of IA) (Swensen’s poem is online at:

We (read I, read the eye of the) cannot congregate
declare (I do) the constellation (I’m bound to)
blind, blunder (I’ve always known it), but
you have never before (have you?)

with the people I think I’ve seen every day,
(have I seen, am I, and then to see is, at sea)
and then of the people I
four or five days a month
a mourning those I say twice
I’ve known (I have been known to)
(I know you, too) by this.

and then once, and then I knew (was known) by no one

Suddenly, you say, sudden

This is just what I’d imagined
you knew
of sky, and my lost roads maps
wending our pathways out
overt gardens, overt landscapes scraped
shaped into his gardens
(you do know who I speak of? Ours, and hours)
I hear my voice
This is an echo
this echo is this
is echo’s attempt to speak
I’m (she is) (you are) (we may be becoming) blind,
who can only see me
within their hands?


Thursday, December 13, 2012

Christmas card, by Lisa Pasold

Here I am trying to spoil all that wanting between landscape and drawing, the usual latent stationary for recycled causes. To complain that we use a language, any of them, to pull us apart, drenching the view with a different syllable. Happy holidays! Glad your envelope isn't here. (Nothing is empty.) What if we say the relationship was successful, simply not permanent. There. Lick sealed this Unicef card’s melting view of the glitter-bedecked polar bear. To find your address will require a Sunday strike-through. Pull that hat hard down for 4 minutes, for 33 seconds. And hold. 

Sunday, December 9, 2012

The Poker Wars of the Southwest Coast, Contents Page by sean s

Rewording The poker wars of the South West Coast by Lisa Pasold

Preface: Two Wars Between: the South West Coast
Prologue: The Then-insignificant Port City Will Begin Your Real "Noir"

Chapter One:
The Story's Not Only On the Outside Easily

Interlude: Forgettable Face - Leave a Wish, See You After

Chapter Two:
But your work also has a couple of pennies (which lives in a hotel laundry)

Chapter Three:
laundry will search for an every day melting trough over the robot.  Still

Interlude: Era Like No Other Woman

Chapter Four:
even a special lady just does not fit because of your talent (no husband, no kids, no home)

Chapter Five:
Do not care, and a bold determination to give up job to be true professional

Chapter Six:
"You" Leaves Behind and Neither Is: The Citadel of Poker Playing

Epilogue: Where Purposeful's Most Famous Takes a Job

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Porches, by sean s

Rewording Jennifer Dick's Passages.

Place somewhere in my out held hand
nodes of a cage, the (un)physical

beat between bars


unable to collapse the pause's wave-form
I, because
to collapse the world's porches

holding out some steps for some steps
verbations   barbarations
a p(a(u)l)se s



Thursday, December 6, 2012

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Passages, by JKD

Rewording Sarah Larivière's Coronary Conduct and Sean Standish’s 3 Day Weekend while listening to the Youtube video of John Cage’s Dream

And here I am trying to spoil all that
is wanting,    waiting
between notes in Cage’s Dream
landscape, a 4’33 pause
I, unable to draw indications,
lament striations in the latent stationary
this                  a card
holding out for a (our) destination.


Friday, November 30, 2012

coronary conduct by Sarah Lariviere

rewording of Jennifer K. Dick's "Where These Two Sides Meet," which reworded Erin Mouré’s “Coronal Bone Suture”

but NO wanting Wanting

wanting but NO physicality I thought, holding out

  to                                           (for)

    drawings with indications

   of Style
  of Saturn's sabbath

               (get up... 
                              get up)

Where these two sides meet, by JKD

Rewording of Erin Mouré’s “Coronal Bone Suture”—as a rescrambling of the original + small additions. Published in the now-available Lana Turner lit review, issue #5:

“I am a rabbit
physicality’s memory
my treasure
you,” I told her.

“But no!,” she retorted
“Words are beings

Sustenance abjured
this glance
stretched frontal
one comma between
of us.

Wanting that
I thought, holding
out to            (for) 
this dismay.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

3-day Weekend by sean s

There was nothing on my front porch but quiet
and my hand hanging from my wrist for a few decades more,

and here I am trying to spoil all that.

Whown by sean s

After JKD's Who...

After a conversation, who
were I as green as a twister's

down the roar unfearing northlike
a cat's eye under basement steps

now, a little farther
a little farther
the boreal under my roots
under the steps of my Brooklyn

were I under my own steps
my o'n

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Eurydice's vision, by JKD

After Sarah Larivière's Turnstiles and Rainer Maria Rilke's VII Orpheus, Eurydice, Hermes in the translation by J.B. Leishman (1976 publication by Hogarth Press, London)

And there, winding through the silver-ored darkness in need of a glimpse
palm up

fish-eyed, cateracted blue-hued no more than a bulb’s pivot seeking sight
the needlepalm

the napalmed blossoming orange-red flair of –up—and—this—and she, centerfolded,
wraps, palm-frond

emerges into the jilted sage spread-eagled lip pelvic opened canister of pornography,

a sentence(d) akin to the stem or coat-tails collar in the act of being carried off

stuck at the catch threshold ground–surfaced mustard yellow in the potting shed torn
snapshot palm of  

her-rooted sound of heavy porphyry in the darkness’ red red rudding of to see just
her palm

held single twistered pathway round turning unto and back to and recalling silk-smoothed

reached out towards near tactile field-space breathed into contact’s untouching festered

night underworld sword-shrouding length of sheathed castoff to be stretched, carried upwards
over Avernus’ palm

then backtripped, she's returned to thickspun cocoon ear-muffled silence undersnow, re-grounded here in her, 

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Who... by JKD

After Amanda Deutch's At Home and a conversation with Michelle Noteboom

Who would I be
if I were
right now
in Brooklyn?
Wanting to just be
a little farther north
the aurora borealis
and a green
as a cat’s eye aglow
unlike now
in the basement
for the twister’s

Monday, April 2, 2012

turnstiles by Sarah Lariviere

After Jennifer K. Dick's Glint

palm up
in the dug lawn,
bulbs pivot (in-on)
the needlepalm

-- up


is in a magazine, the centerfold
jilted sage (sage) SAGE pornography,
into focus, silvergreen

(sentence)collar in the act of being
carried off

mustard in the potting shed

snapshot of the palm

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Glint by JKD

girlurgling quilted morningsong
spun stunned Persephone
towered dreamwaking from under
the grave dead gesture
of emergence


outof infrom
a test’s tasked
quickfreeze tableau

farscape or shouder-point
nightyearnings’ link
between known (non) points
vector in plainsong
to b
sharing spots, places taken
in turnstyles
being (to be)
a specific sonogram

Sunday, January 8, 2012

New: De Keersmaeker at Le Manège de Reims


bodysongs corpophony
helping hands helping the quick helping the
dying into the grave
dead reawakening from the black bower
tercento tones and peasantry Brueg’ling crowds
called to task by a farmer’s kyrie
outof infrom the body
nurse’s therapist’s gestures

quickfreeze tableaux

moving bodies moving moving bodies
jumprunning scampering fucking about
surveiling guarding safeguarding
presented selves focus on far points no points
running amock saved by more helpingquick hands


group vectors herd-pointing
a yelling plainsong
sharing spots, places taking turns in them
taking turns being human taking turns being
a specific human
saying good-bye to 700 years of yesterdays