another joint in the phalanx of a kind of record follows (the rest on the right hand, if you like; if you do, contact using the contact top right)


the tongue coils across the beach you can see its pattern

can you

17 thousand bucks just to put the two pipes together

licks inside

rim of the bay and at another juncture

the tongue curls around can you do it like this

you can scream if you want to

but you cannot change back


why with everything over everything I thought at one juncture I’d say everything

still leave pain intact

the still the leave impact recoil or kick 17 thousand bucks

just to put the two

the just the put the pipes together you’re talking in a voice

everything over

at the unknown university with everything over

everything still

still you can


say tuesday why does he kill me with his love

say tuesday why does he does he

accuse me with his love

say tuesday why

use me with his love


the just just the two I could say everything I found your hair

a short pin with a berry red top the second most powerful man in Auckland



you can see its phlegm

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#XVII for akindofrecord …


What about the days we choose to live

Lima’s words

The idea of destiny is a phrase that says

they are coming to get us

it is completed by another

go out to meet them

in Gamboa shadows lighting fires in caves

or is it Bolaño again

lost images

poems and

a lump smells

recoil we do know at least a part of us does

questionable girls

because a girl rolls over

because of a mistranslation the part with no

regret the role of the girl is

in question and

old gods do die and new gods do



Jesus in a hotel room Tosches’s Jesus girls

pay to take him in mouth a part of him

Nick’s word irrumates

a part of us remembers paradise


but I told him the date and then said

that I had been running across the street

to help her

when I was hit by the car

Straub is it so strange in both Peter S. and Bolaño

there are casement windows


a lump smells

a life swerves

a green stares up



her legs

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here a piece for a kind of record–see lefthand margin for rest & rest


can you say it is good travelling with you today love

left out on its centrifugal arms wind rushes in in gales the temperature drops

a severe weather watch is in place

don’t get lost in the void says Roberto good advice spinning out

of control very good I have always been told and by various people in

my life a mortal wound under skin of the air and hot breath of sun chill of a

surgery knife and the fizzing dreck mote and seed caused to infect me a pellet

burning chill and been called to cut it out I lay on my side in the corner I

the stain on the mattress one inseparable from the other heard Nico sing and

felt the pounding of the outside on the inside vein in the needle and knew

knew machine in the ghost no one must grieve over knowledge but must we risk

we must Bolaño this world



 love is inside out

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another week past see how much has happened to a kind of record


sometimes I feel I can take more away than they can

but it isn’t true Is it

the story ends the song goes on the dirty pacing on goes

the end the start the knot the kick at you they

are not your clothes


arms cross over

uncross cross over

uncross on goes

man in his quintessence


I feel I can take you wait

than they you wait father is gone

mother gone

in her

they have cut me in half


arms cross over

uncross you wait on goes a woman

a woman stops in half

like this there is no more

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theatrum philosophicum
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please let me know if you are reading this kind of record by using the contact link on the left


define muscle

shoulder whole wheel




in all things he will excel me


Karl Ove to his son

as a son from the point of view

of love my son asks me

to reattach the sterile patch

quickly his wounded arm


he will be leaving is it for us

is it for us to carry on

quickly to carry on


define muscle turning on the axle-tree

I can think of no better thing to say and

have no greater wish to wish him

I will tell him I wish that in all things

he will excel me Karl Ove said so


quickly I reattach the sterile plaster

to his open sore



it is inexcusable to use the phrase mortal weight

in an invented scenario I don’t believe abstraction

gains any height from it I don’t wish to pontificate

and inexcusable to lift the straw man of the left

on the railroad of disappointment China Miéville

imagines is a railway to invent imagine

a wanker in a hotel room or suicide I am her

do I clean do I wash am I soiled it is

from the wound of my mouth justified

wound we share we who have opened

each other’s legs



luz es tiempo
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so it is week XIII to be added to a kind of record


withdraw to the foyers

we shall stay friends

the wind blows hair and papers that

could be skin and human

dust the chaff hulls and seeds that

hands have released fall dismally

from a violent place I sharpened

my eyes fell on them

I can’t explain except that

I’m out of my mind


outside on the threshold

outside the threshold a peace

certainly they took a peace that

came from my assurance

a peace comes down to them

it still comes down to them while

I am dismal and uncertain


do shadows explain the clouds

do shadows explain the dark

shadows move behind the glass

do shadows explain the monstrous shapes

a monstrosity moves out in the bay


is it cooler here yes

you can see my fingers wiggling

from between the louvres

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this week’s installment of a kind of record of which the complete text so far can be read in the lefthand index


bang a gun goes who fires a gun

safety first then pull the trigger

chooses to here we are

in a classroom you in front of me

in front of him her see the kickback

in your eyes before the mortal weight

of the piece before the shell report or bullet

before just saying points at you in front of me

bullet arrives safety first no then a bubble

pops up no then pull the trigger a bubble

blood pops up of blood it is of blood the kickback

pull the fucking who decides lives gun points

bullet arrives with a sigh in air a human sigh

and human blood not spider blood see just saying

a window opens a window breaks open gun goes off

cartoon window cartoon bubble cartoon gun black

and white grey outside is it the shooter your thought

is in the bubble red is it his thought your understanding

instant an intake of breath a sigh and outcome say

you were not equal you were not equal but free not equal

free you are now you were not you said to the world I am

not in I you said we we are not equal not to this world this

and this before the world you in front of me in front of him

her I am not equal before the world judge me before the world

judge me this


I contend that not only are we unequal you and I but equally so

equally unfree


and keeping inside the same frame you are saying well you are

writing in blood


you for me together we are engaged in trade and this is all happening

on the outside


where everything matters where nothing matters here in the kickback

in the black and white


point to point

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to point to point to a kind of record: XI.


he is without any


they say

he is without

yet he is

yet is he

inside it


he is inside his own


he is inside his own


and he has himself

knows his heart his mind is clear

his mind is made up

by a maid when he gets out of bed

gets off the bed strangling his cock

in the sheets and gathers of the sheets

the throng of sheets the throng gathers


he is shat he is jizzed

soaped and scented anointed

with a careless hand

supercilious unction


and the maid has only helped him

with careless hand

gathering the wet and knotted sheet

cleaning the toilet


living the again again

the again again

workaday world Shakespeare


how does she read

how does she fare



he has deeply sorry sorrow

at depth neither drug can reach plum

no alcohol nor love love frack up

love passion he has without

he is without suffering


whose tongue said it all for him

her how did it all get said


he has a sorry sorrow deep

dumb inside

he has himself



on whom is bestowed the fat

fat of his hand of his anointment

he has throttled his white poem

in a hotel bed Wordsworth

the again again of his oil

all this


all this he has

he has fat

he is without kneeling

is his legs apart

is huge with being

his legs apart he has

all this inside snorts


how did it come

to be how did it come

all this all


a machine wash for your shit

a machine for jizz again again

the poem wash


does not kneel

is without kneeling

wash the poem

this instant




is the water


grey the days

midweek the midweek days

turn grey


daydream grey



outside every classroom

so grey


sweetsmelling grey of a thousand years

a thousand sweet from now

now this instant old us grey

sweetsmelling dust


so grey so

day dreams

classroom windows

thousand years from now


thousand miles from here


so grey so

also out of reach

forever out


my hat is grey

my heart is

will the object of our hearts also


will the object of our hearts be grey


will your eyes open on mine so

day dreams

classroom windows

and thousand thousands


will I dream in them

look forever out

forever out dream

this instant


luz es tiempo
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choosing the present above all others to affirm this: Xth point to point a kind of record


I never thought

we’d be in the same place


but here you are

in the same place

you took off

every excessive movement


a burrow a loin

every extravagance is

the very extravagance of

the presumption


there you are


you have taken off


a presumption


a stone

a luxurious muff


a last possible moment

a last possible

before I


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to fall and park at the past 3 weeks’ worth to a kind of record



can I ask you

it is raining

a kind of


from the sky

can I ask you


first a prayer


I start at Wednesday

do you sigh

do you say


are you silent

silent as each of my days’ poetry

as the prayer of the poem of each day

wind in wires

a bus that comes


the girls the bus girls speak about truth

about truth and beauty about truth and beauty

and innocence

can I ask you who is true to type

who is who who is not


and how high their skirts were at the ball


Saturday unclear to me now

now a shadow deforms in the heat


what awareness does it take to form

long shadow of meaning

what else will you take

creeps over horizon


truly the 6th of December

dressed for all weather

packed front and back

a witch boarded a bus witch

hat green rib sweater

backpacked and fanny pack

with four blond daughters


her golden ones princesses

numbered four

white ducks

a black bordered photograph of Blanca

someone doctored for instagram the lost goose

her white flock left behind


to shed tears at farewells

and return



amply in the wires

Eliot the wind said

Christmas came


a song at least one said

are they not innocent and beautiful

and untrue



scream and climb the ribbon

light onto horizon



and climb down

pointed legs

a spider dances

with white legs


darkness complete

as moon whiteness total

and toxic trees

small furred and feathered bodies

a lunatic enters the field


it is the new year



how have you chosen me before you have chosen


out of a fist tight cocoon a shadow deforms

a prayer first

and a saying opens



before you there was then the dead hour

Eliot Tiresias life

a feather on the back of my hand


wind the wind the wind

the wind that knows all has been foresuffered

foresuffering all

the wind knows amply knows the wires


and if he did not believe

then she spoke I have not

not the numbers not with me I have not google

not with me not

I have no cell

I have not

not I


a halo flew from the sun

to her head

from saying not I

ecstasy of saints



I saw this on the 7th of January

the day after my son’s birthday


luz es tiempo
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thigein & conatus

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