Steve Dalachinsky
previous page     contents     next page
The Trickster frankfurter ali on another bender landsberger alee ripping apart the establishment by keeping dumb kids dumb me hiccupping like a baby on an airplane in a bad GROSZ painting kress dreiss abandonplatz stuck in the center of the ring writ(h)ing another paper on some dead banker’s life or some dead crook or the stork who thought it was an ostrich or it wasn’t balls itch kidney stone. duality’s sonic quality’s with language gone gone gone to publish the WORLD in rivermortis dumb k’nooks who kill them/ selves because they cannot re/ make themselves straight stout askaks worshippers of dope fiend dieties magenta family / cards in hand tight holed holdups. i miscalculated & the trickster tripped me up again broken egg bad karma incendiary emotional boxing matches the ultimate disconnection of the self/conscious from it’s all ready disconnected self the way back determined by 10% of what’s left of the bargain that’s been handed out the long line shortened by the misinformed uniformly barebacked jackasses. it’s as if part of my money & part of my soul had been taken from me & part of that didn’t belong to me in the first place. you can always feel the war inside you / around you head caught in the meat wheel he knew so well the bright green flashes of BAUHAUS dime stores on dark rainy nights. it’s a creepy feeling all those lights in the windows loud numbers all lit up for an evening off the charts searchers of our over-inhabited VEINS. planters of papers & works caught with their pants on replaced by what-are-you-working-on towers of babble drunk on their own punk linearity in a world of dislocated cut-ups these comfortably sober straight-toothed cuties wearing their stiffness like a controlled bad trip. those who solicit hugs from everyone those who enjoy being cripples those who will not bare responsibility for their disabilities ostriches who think they are swans those who cycle on windowsetzbis. recognizing the signs that might lead you to where you’ve always been these are the camps we are the concentrated the jawless & the jaded. this is a repeat like a pattern of broken squares on green up holstered seats or the town/square / PLATZ or the seats themselves. yet how does one describe the magnificent blue tailed bird long lush black & white plumage / 2 foot wingspan / when one’s sense of description is so limited / it’s like an appointment with breath or a pocket full of rind / or the imagination as stale as a 55cent loaf of bread. jump into the etching jump into the itchy awverderse the abandoned home / the advent of fascism where the inhabitants arrived & once left the infection & subsequent illness which occurs as the sun reappears & the antics begin again who is that locked inside the outhouse? @ Port o San where the ships freely come to SINK AaBbC when one thinks before the thought has occurred it increases / decreases the chance of chance happening the range is a wide divide within a small segment of LARGESS captured & enraptured by the anticipation of cr(e)ating & altering the scenario the trickster though rarely in attendance @ its own funeral is its own funeral the singer is a rodent that takes credit for the cheese others provide for it the trickster is a singer a rodent a trap a theory invented by itself (to please itself) & others who are not themselves yet are / part & parcel of the trick hang on tightly to the seat of your pants you are going on a long dead-ending ride concurring events do not & never will correspond the way a melting pot of languages in a suffocating train wagon mingle but nauseate the listener A POOR PRINCE CHARMING for whom alles ist festim griff fur eine sichere FA(h)RT the glyphs of natura @ work @ play reliefs etched into stone facades relief from the tedium of relief I C E graffitied into wunderbars of fabricated cities that which can set us free or free from the multi-KULTURA immotopia in tandem in transit 0N target ugly massive temples of torture fur Europa of learning & beef moving onward to DAM(n)erstrasse mit keutchKAP 8191 the variation fries & carrion water logic dunkin move in the danke the melt fat fruche tragedy (wedding) > PHONO-GRAPHISCHE apololoter piscore erato tragicas adentia tympana kupkerstiche allegoria as in unraveling / revealing RHYTHM excitement animals Thimbiris fillibus cannas certatindice utopia David und Saul baum hangen the bacchanal mit dem silen(ce) a grotesgue concert of monogram(er)ists such as Gerhard Altenbourg epilepti(c) kerinnen dudelsachspielender heilage superaurerat artem “sense of hearing beyond the ear to the soul & mind – the invisible made visible” mappencover wandernd notes clefs to draw sound the physical act of making music bankeisanger skreta as the banker m(0)use zings das zong komponist im produktion kompos vipbus bellyword anti – quariat palluselli closed down & gone now Bollywood life-plus mini-mart the lines between sanity anger restraint / a torture movie kidney bladder piss piss the immersaufden outen & occult she chews the once wild fruit the crunch her teeth make as she takes each slow bite is truly a CRISP sound the fields open sometimes thlunk thlunk but most times la lum ca lum @ highr or lower pitched intervals really impossible to describe this sound / how the poem flows into it or it into the poem > one hand 2 hands down to the core pulling the pieces off the last scrap of civilization’s sanity the parting that drives most white folks crazy or my folks / the scintillating act of sin WIRTSCHAFT ICE the killer commando fur KIM JONG un > the bags under her eyes becoming sacks > the simple inability to GIVE IN /////// even the perfect place has imperfections 2 hearts in my chest 2 irresponsibilites > strangling the life out of each other in a forest of wild yellow flowers & breaches young beech trees afly < & there goes another wild sunset behind yet another forgotten castle in the town of WolfsBreath when i thought about the possibility that you might either choke to death or vomit your insides out this morning i calmly continued to eat my scrambled egg sandwich…the toilet was stopped up & i used a fork to take your giant turd out of its mouth…i saved the day again & the trickster laughed as i swallowed myself still unfazed…yes i am the caregiver & the caretaker yet i never take care to separate the clouds from the sun…you are this romantic notion of a quiet backyard…here there is too much knowledge & not enough foliage.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home