“the sun in his great periplum leads in his fleet here sotto le nostre scogoli under our craggy cliffs alevel their mast-tops . . . ”
— Ira Pod (Dantale 76)
Category: Uncategorized
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DRIBLOGLYPHY
“We can still say nothing about the wave” –Ira Pod, Badchthumpered Peanas. A Musical
counterpint ode to McGunnius. Renaissance Repress.”—Ira Pod. -
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.
A day in April 2007
Spring morning at place of group learning
One man incarnating evil on campusl
One day in April 2007Weeping, screaming kids broadcast into my head
Hot bullets fired bring flowers into bloom,
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.We have his identity, the killer,
We have him now,
We have his remains and inner illness on display
Springtime, gotta turn this off.
Not this day in April.Flowers blooming at the end of the sound of shooting
Springtime, gotta turn this off.
I can see the flowers though, in the blood
I’m seeing like the poet sees
How to make light of bloody massacre?
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.With light, there’s darkness,
So in heaven too.
Shut your eyes, block your ears
No. no. Springtime, gotta’ turn this stuff off.Now Bush! Agh! look away kids
Now a cryptic note, a weirdo’ poem/note
A suicide tattoo, oh, ou,
Shut your eyes, block your ears
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.Terrible blood bath in America
Oh God, not another war now, not again,
Was this indiscriminate or planned?
Was HE a Muslim or not a Muslim
What is a Muslim? What is an American?
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.Oh, i dunno what’s what, anymore.
Questions about a boy to help answer
More questions about a why?
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.Damn, gotta go out and buy dinner
Water the tomato plants
Oh No, Not another war
Not now, not over this
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.Forget about it, stop trying to
Solve this murder
Is it another “plot to secure more security contracts
More scanners, more nuke deals with Korea?”
I read on that on a Horror blog today
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off now.More gun
Control?
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off now, damn,
Who makes them guns and the ammo?
OFF!Turn on to TV like a Junky, turning to the news
Wondering why? Cooking noodles and Tofu
Trying to think like a murderer, umm,
In the Killers shoes while wtaching the sad news
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.I’m looking at American/Korean relations
Historically with internet
I’m Looking for a revenge, a crime motive, a reason?
Springtime, gotta’ turn this off.These things seem like an infinitum absurdumb
As Suicide and death: absurdumb
Who manufactured the Bullets?
Why can’t we read all the death note yet?
Why the security failure and communication failure?
Springtime, this time, i really gotta’
Turn this Newspeak off and eat somthing -
Acrillic Figa
[starts rolling the next joint]….a lot of timespace has passed since i last posted. Reading Alan Watts has been difficult and testing. Although in some sense he holds the Kryptonite, the antitdote to our “media monster word virus run wild in the western lands” )+()_()+(
[takes a swig of red nectar beer, pulls on spliff] Since i last posted i have also spent months working towards the publication of maybelogic quarterly – a labour of love which i am still recovering from, in regards to being subject to it’s contents. As editor i was able to work right up until the very last few hours with the content of my own pieces about hiphop and the New scientific language of maybelogic. Without cell phone, television or regular internet access i am able to project “Internet” onto just two texts which i am currently embroiled and entangled within; Finnegans Wake by james Joyce and The Cantos by Ezra Pound. Both of which seem able to telecommunicate certain structures through the air – like wireless internet. I know it sounds rather strange but i am not joking about the power of poetic verse and meter, especially when recited or sung and danced about, shouted maybe even, to “teleport” what you might call “Web sites”
Out of thin air.Get the two texts and try it. I swear it’s better than gameboy
Acrillic Figa
DEEP SCRATCH 