The typed word is what isn’t on the page. It is literally off the mark. No, not some talk of this exceeding that. It’s just that typing and prints are different, as citizen to government. And pages are full, except by typing removed. Under threat of storm, raze the land, engrave citizen. Identify the already-dead. All that is needed to be said or done is, by pages in stages, save for a day when word may interrupt and blow a world away.

Imperial deathtrip Super Bowl Super Power. The sickness of slaughter. Speak to the spectacle commodity economy, plated laminated, “Hummers”, Salvation Rhetoric, and the ongoing spectacle of Punishment. Everywhere in the spectacle, we are judged/judges. We are The Accuser. Even the discourse of internet, the Superhighway paved and oiled with blood and guts, with genocide. At ‘home’, the highest incarceration rates in the world. Incarceration – in all forms and types – is slavery. Abolition of all prisons, with critical rethinking of how to treat harm and injustice, that would be something of a new, free world. But, for now, that’s not what’s going on – exoterically. The skeleton of the spectacle remains intact.

The Hydra series, with latest installations from the Lancet Report, attempts at some level to recuperate from or cope with the power that emanates from the spectacle and its manifest. If there is to be some change, some refiguring, then there must be cohesion between the lived world of everyday life and its monsters. Hydra may unfold a war and leaders may confuse this with them owning power. Gun.

Merleau-Ponty, Foucault, Irigaray, Arendt, Mary Daly were and are never far away. But, also Dickinson, Marianne Moore, Elizabeth Treadwell and now as I write this, Alice Notley. Her Alma, or The Dead Women, is a masterpiece. Is it Epic/counterepic? Having just completed it, I will use the overused word, necessary. That book is what must be said. Anything I do say is “about it”.

Below I have made some attempts to record something, accosted by acoustic, by War, by Horror. If my first volume, On the Cave You Live In was an effort to speak to the silence of the abyss, then the Hydra series (which is concluded here) is an attempt to record the noise at the abyss. Get as close as possible. The Nazi Heidegger mistakenly and condescendingly called this “chatter”.

But what of the effects of lived life, damaged or birthed as/in/ All Power/God Consciousness? Put differently, the last poems included here turn both the silences and the ceaseless untraceable dialogues inward. As I believe that there are distinctive social pathologies governing our world politics, chances are good that those pathologies exist in me – either through replication of the spectacle commodity economy or being human, and as a white, American, male I have my own demons. I want it all to be about Love. I want the free festival of all for all, by all. But, the so-called “security” is Thanatos. Altamont/mount. That, like meth in this regard, is what kills All-Power/God Consciousness. The therapeutic state, serves as an attempt to martial a control effect on the unmanageable, incredible, diffuse, and elastic body. That body still sings. There are some who refuse, who resist, ceaselessly. They are “invisible as music.” They do not have a “head full of snow” because “narcotics cannot still the tooth that nibbles at the soul.” What will this world be like when the consequences of our actions blowback upon us? For now, close attunement to lived bodily experience, in all its vicissitudes and perhaps sentimentally, enduring love of the world, what/wherever and whoever you are – that’s what I got. It’s in this direction that these poems are written, albeit through the lens of patriarchal genocide.

Hydra Reads A Lancet Report

Alt, Altamont and bruise

Venerate is venal ,

Empathic or deviltalk.

It’s not that you,

Or is, is. On impact

Exploring artifact

Resource management,

File under bullet mæn I d ʒ m ə nt.

That’s not cerebral really,

It’s just brains and metal

Mixed together.

Hot weather for it.

Scorch orange darken wet sands

Push 700,000 by New Year’s Day, 2007.

Dr. Tea Stain

Pipes Beggar’s Banquet

In Kirkuk headphone, he’s in his heaven.

(Really, Hydra mutter

it’s time to hang

the President for what he done. (which one/s?)

Redacted text.

NSA parenthetic paranoia purposeful

Somnolent slang.

Nosey little noose.

See him and his men

Strung out on bacilli and spirochete,

Duncanly or Operation Whitecoat.

What did they do to the Seventh Day Adventists?)

*

Airport security checkpoint absolutions,

Wave the magnetic wand

Across your body,

Those red laser trinities

Transmit across the sky

To someone different than you

Or me, elegiac uncertainty

To prove that which isn’t

Holds the new holy ghost

Caughts in gasps, ingests.

X ray courtesy assistance,

O please take off your

Shoes and climb through

To the other side.

*

crosses and fingers.
cute shoots and bloody ladders
master of the bladder
of the life of the mary.
got scared one at time
look at this he said to me
it was not a head talking
he picked up but
antennae. no not radio,
that would be a disaster
with all the channels,
this one made of harbors
and meat clung to bones.
i lived in the leftovers
behind the barbeque
in hot nights for you
covered in it. in shit.
that’s the whole ego thing agin
back there is where the
fetuses were kept too
famous little secret medical spot,
so it was political life
we was living, boned and less so,
mutes glaring at each other
in mounds please someone stick
around because the way that
one man makes them talk with
their chinny chin is wrong.
he turn it into song,
breaketh ankles
with little altamounts.
They are talking to each other on the inside
flipped bandages and soul food “half racks” cozy dives
smokes packed in there.
chinny chin chin,
a little teapot, chin chin
in spoutless offering them legs
and grin. cant talk to you
or you to me, someone
rigged the restaurant
clinic made to order
a round godless hot mess
play the organ loud
“chest fever”
stitched in my neighbors
dumpster psalm 139
james version.
we are mutes using wire signals
we strap them to ourselves
and goes the hot night
impounded Allah
please call the restaurant
first even a blood let
notes to get the children
out, thank you very much
that explains the whole dumpster
thing patriarch tradition
conditional uncondition
traitor psalms and he
sees what is going on.
He is the first and last voyeur
looks at that melted chin,
predetermined or determined,
chin up.

*

It was nothing but a can

in the first place

where you was

implodes or cataract,

number the drug

for “transient attacks”

hum.

This is the sound

And that too,

Is sound.

*

Compatability Mode, Diagnosis

Neurotonic clonic Klonapin

Remeron rememories

Or depakotastica.

Sports Clean room envy….

Some grass and beside of it

A choosing. Allergic to’s

Set that next to a war

And carve out a casket.

It all full of you “head full

Of snow”, y packet of bloodshot

Brutes to go orders

Shrapnel pick up sticks

And glue bag parades

Made a brut trinket

a medicinal delicate.