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#19 for a kind of record (to read in series)

XIX.

Karen says Old History Now

I only care about the present well three things

at this time

in this light

we can say

in Deleuze on Foucault places things in reverse order

friends do

we can say one can say it is said at this time to say on

the limit

of the sayable

 

and in light of saying this in this light

I make a little poison to put in

friends do

this chalice

not enough to kill to pass from my lips

to yours I slip a little in

now a sip

 

these things through being said to say

to say this now

to see this now

to feel the poison take effect

take hold I make a problem

three parts

I practice

a charm

 

hidden in a fold of skin

hidden

between your lips

 

a secret passed from one to another

the other’s small touch of madness

I am forced to write in secret

 

Caetano said today Caetano said

the most transgressive

you can do

is play quietly

 

force public recoil

in private

in private recoil

from public sanction

 

I dreamt you’re a cunning man was repeated thrice

you’re a cunning man

you’re a cunning man

you’re a cunning man

if you know so much

and bit off his lips

 

why do you love me so

am I

not difficult to love

 

the turn the rest move away they turn

to their backs I yell

I feel the poison take effect

difficult to listen

love

a very rich speculation

friends

to whom I can say

this is the time

and these are the stakes of the time

 

take this cup away

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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)

XVIII.

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

short

statuesque

you can see its phlegm

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#XVII for akindofrecord …

XVII.

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

appear

appear

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

at

lunch

her legs

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

XIV.

define muscle

shoulder whole wheel

week

axle-tree

 

in all things he will excel me

Knausgaard

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

 

sickles

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

XIII.

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

VII.

 

can I ask you

it is raining

a kind of

weeping

from the sky

can I ask you

 

first a prayer

 

I start at Wednesday

do you sigh

do you say

or

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

truly

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

home

 

amply in the wires

Eliot the wind said

Christmas came

 

a song at least one said

are they not innocent and beautiful

and untrue

 

VIII.

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

 

IX.

how have you chosen me before you have chosen

how

out of a fist tight cocoon a shadow deforms

a prayer first

and a saying opens

creeps

 

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

children

 

I saw this on the 7th of January

the day after my son’s birthday

Saturday

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3 quotes from Santiago Gamboa, sentiments for the season: illustrated with photographs by Sebastião Salgado

… beyond the borders of our beautiful countries there is a terrifying outside world filled with life, a black sun that stretches over a number of continents, only revealing its beauty after the first impact. What you see on the surface is horrible and cruel, but slowly the the beauty emerges; in our world, the surface is lovely and everything is bright and shiny, but with time what we see is the horror.

– Santiago Gamboa, Necropolis, trans. Howard Curtis, 2012, p. 446

… nothing of what we were then can be understood by anyone today, nobody believes in what we believed in; the things that were important to us provoke laughter or curiosity…

– ibid., p. 444

… the best way to live life to the full is to take it to the limits, putting your face in its deepest depths, its edges, its caverns and ruined palaces, only that way will we keep our bodies hot and our heads boiling with dreams …

– ibid., p. 447

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to be added this week to a kind of record each week added to: part VI

VI.

I am as I age wrestling with the idea of affirmation

a long death scene follows which I do not make up

when I return turn when I return the idea of a room

come on now they have his hands come on now rubber

fingers in mouth in arsehole inside a rummage sale of

public private interests like you when I return the idea

it’s not the first time you are dying and you have never

been disabled in my sight you have been old before you

before you have been a woman and you and have been

the child of a woman come on now like you I return turn

to at no instant where hesitation has a chance of being

being thrown by the who said the dark lady who said I

I have heard borne witness to grown men screaming

when

undergoing this procedure I climb in and out of bed

like you new angel angel new I cannot turn my eyes

away each thing returns at every instant I like you

heap up before myself

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celebrating Santiago Gamboa, as well as stating the obvious & wondering once again at the sentimental Left, melting even before it gets to the battlefield–were we fantasizing? grinning stupidly, terrifyingly

…the reasons someone who’s about to shoot another man thinks he has may vary, but the deed is the same, someone will press the trigger, and when the lead breaks the skin and drills into the cranium and damages a lobe and perforates it and opens a path in the brain, a life with a history and past will be cut short and a body transformed into a bloodstained mass that will fall to the ground, and that fact, which is horrible in itself and can’t in any way be explained or justified, makes all the reasons equivalent; in the middle of the twentieth century it was ideologies, then it was land or the control of resources, reserves of hydrocarbons. …

President Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin talk during the family photo session at the APEC Summit in Danang, Vietnam, on Saturday.

Do you know the contemporary name for perversity? It’s democracy. If a chimpanzee with a drum becomes popular and amusing, he could be elected president.

– Santiago Gamboa, Night Prayers, trans. Howard Curtis, Europa Editions, 2016, p. 222

…the world wasn’t made for harmony and kindness, but quite the contrary, for confrontation. The world is a boxing ring, a battlefield. And you don’t go to battlefields with smiles and soft words, no, sir, you go armed to the teeth.

– ibid., p. 232

We played with madness (were we fantasizing?) until the afternoon gave my mouth the terrifying smile of the idiot.

– ibid., p. 290

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on a kind of record, II

II.

she said

I’m going to talk to you quite openly

and she

apologised for her vulgarity

 

is there a way onward

Juana

by Gamboa

the western cordillero

 

a patch of vomit

made up of the lights

of Bogotá

 

cupped in the hands

of a thousand digits

 

figures of bone

walk the western

horizon

 

still recognisable

moving without acknowledgement

you are watching

 

relations of yours

I ask

 

you trap me in fucking

you trap me

we shut up

we know

 

the identity

we need to show

indifference to

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