Texanah

in the North where
the beauty wears magnificent trees
and glacial rock sculptures
they still have to borrow sky
from Texas, Texas is nine parts sky
and blanketing above, that
cloud-boil, above the cities too
where the deer trails are paved
is not a place, not kept, not held, no vault
an Olympic tangle of mind and air
roads chalkline straight
tide pools French-curve shallow
horizon a dazzling shaft of lightsaber
and skylight so thick
you could build a house on it
and think about retiring

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Sometime a Ballet

on a scale of one
to when, seen again and again
lace-mated shoe pairs
old nikes and reebok, adidas
dangle high and put on airs

who cares look now, ballerina
pointe shoes pirouette it
as she dances dark ideas
go to dance class, no forget it
twirled up with care to spare

in the air, retire on a wire
what culture, let’s fire
one up along the way
there’s a time for ballet
but get real, not today

Pipe

a truly original work
would not be recognized as art
and language cannot begin to function
without tapping the manifold intents
of its every instance
from the first lowbrow grunt
to the last ephemeral buzzword
creation implies something springing from nothing
a nonstarter, a hat trick beyond
the scope of even a heavenly godcraft

The stupider it looks, the more important it probably is.
—J. R. “Bob” Dobbs

Slurry

The Artists Of Altamira, arthinks (blog)


hypnotic slurry of brilliance and
stupidity, compassion and acute heartlessness
and endless demagoguery
these ancient cave paintings

these wartime leaflets
these political campaigns
this social network
this us, this me