HARD AIR

1. Where I am and where my body will be. All the lessons for me are the ones in the ground. The direct correlative and ratio of my body. In molecules bending together to make me. The splendor and curvature of the earth. I lift my body up on the altar. When a human being takes his body up to higher ground, he is asking for the earth to push down on his brow and smother him into another consistency. This consistency is of hard air worked into. The spirit ascends. And look, everyone clapping at the other --at himself but at the other-- drinking, laughing, vomiting squares of green carpet.

2. Anything less than everything only deserves the consistency of vomited squares of green carpet: a foreign growth which must be cut from the body. When a human being cuts something away from his body, he is pressing hard air into himself, into his lungs, he is working his body into a consistency of lightness. Anything less than a consistency of lightness can only be the refraction of body sent into darkness.

3. Being in love when the spirit ascends and the bodies make waters, there, the diamond cave it is opened and inside of it is what, look, somewhere to be. There is room enough on this dark water to float a legion of tiny cups. Cups which are tiny enough to hold all the refraction of light after we make our arms together and form a sun. And there, all the light we need. All the diamonds telling the same story. There is even room enough here to place tiny candles inside the tiny cups covering the surface of the cold water so that, then look, more light. And we play the light over us because we are bodies of water. We are bodies of water and we know what to do with this light. We know how to send this light refracted into darkness and we know how to follow in the exact correlative of splendor and consistency.

FUTURE

you were born and now

this is the future.



dream your body into a magnet

watch the shape of it spreading

collecting mass and minerals

spreading through the entirety



and then

this



you asked

where am I going

you asked

where am I

anymore



the place where you are now

is the answer you gave

exactly




and so, now

this

perfect

exact


Everything




and what else


what else but Everything


what else but manifestation


what else but YES

BEACHTURNER

S L E E P E R W A T E R

T U R N I N G P A P E R

L I T T L E K I T T E N

O H T H E R E ! I C A N S E E I T !

S A V E T H E C O R N E R F O R T H E B L O C K

P A Y T H E M A N H I S D U E P A Y M E N T

I W A S T H E R E I N B O D Y

I C O U L D N O T B R I N G I T B A C K T O M E

BLACK GHOST

D D B

DEAR J--

You old fool.

You impetuous young man.

You running-around chicken with your shooting jets of blood and your head cut off.

You slow usurper, quietly looking and then slowly taking in.

You small philosopher with your hands folded behind your back.

You humpback whale doing underwater what ballets do in the air.

You cratered diamond head.

You foaming beach surf.

You dreaming dreaming dreamer.

You pearl-bodied boy, collecting sand in your pockets.

You small clay dish and all the things you can hold.

You drunk stuttering poet.

You colored feather-being, of a body soaring with sky.

You deep cold ice cave with your great yawning maw waiting, waiting for Moses and his closing command.

You red-shingle roof with your collected family of collected roofs shining all the way to the harbor, all the way to the market, then beyond it to the sea.

You sun-baked razor blade, looking again to draw up blood, looking again to dry up in the sun, waiting again to divorce the wheat from the chafe, the goats from the lambs.

You orange-breasted bird, with your peals of perfume and all the melody of a hot-headed lover.

You skipping vinyl record and your cycle turning eternal, following before you the path set by the Lord.

You great great Beginning with your great grateful Ending.

You beloved archer: an impeccable visionary but a terrible aim.

You telling teller.

You patient lector.

You drunken doctor with your split lip precision.

You exiled wandering jew, wandering for all wanderers and exiled for all jews.

You single salt tear drop burning sizzled in the Son.

You dark brush beast, wounded and holding up your wound for all the dark brush to see.

You prism-eyed prince with your spectrum of refracted light pouring forever and ever down the magic eternal shore.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR 2011

1. lay down there. go down there and lay there. go down to the part where earth is coldest. cleave into the arc of the it, into the arc of the earth. part smoke and lay down.

2. say PATTERN. scrape your forearms on the ground. repeat. continue saying PATTERN. get up and look at your forearms. look for PATTERN. while looking say LOCUS. see what pictures happen.

3. collect the dead skin from your arms. collect the earth you have parted. put them together. build a mountain from them. turn yourself beneath the mountain. ask yourself this. ask yourself: is this where i am? do this and then understand it. understand the fullness of it.

WOVEN SYMBOL

PERFORMANCE AT CULTIVA COFFEE IN LINCOLN, NEBRASKA

PERFORMANCE AT CLAWFOOT HOUSE IN LINCOLN, NEBRASKA