¡ avant (terror) unit !

2009-04-22T09:17:00.001-07:00

2009-04-20T02:59:00.001-07:00

2009-04-20T02:56:00.001-07:00

2009-04-17T04:03:00.000-07:00

2009-04-14T11:33:00.000-07:00

Darren (human beat box) Robinson
vs
Christian (spock) Bok

SWIPE FILE

2009-04-14T09:19:00.000-07:00

bpNichol
Translating Translating Apollinaire
"poem as a machine for generating line drawings"
1979

vs.

derek beaulieu
Flatland
2007

biopo

2009-04-13T11:39:00.001-07:00

Globular epidermis
Shaken
Blimp for greet swipe
Noggin hog leg log grate
Leap lope moon pope wheat
S’neat sleet rope trick gone goph
global er spider
hackle
limp four bright sleet
nod in dog egg fog crate
nape load soon rope wept
smead leak pope dick dawn philosopher
labial air spide her
heckle
imbibe fur reet swap
noggin hag palimpsest
Hole for holes sweet sweet sweep
Plugz bugging whole mole
Blind but bats
Grabbing
Hellbent for nether
caliper gold gates nahrwal black rope
reep rape catalogue agogo
zulu ninja jaberwockey jujitsu
burst lime gut drake
nellow slide night bbq
fene wondrnestle
form foam bleep bleat
neather regions
gloat
gather rake
drape
s'not snot
tse
linguistic
gastric gustro
gronk so gronk grink gets grunk
page plus pages raging maze
thruway straight to skulls
bumpin' chunks lumply wrustl'd
wrangling ranges outta range
gimlet shuck
offle skine
snake milk bleak brat potato
natural lecture
literature
nazi
noddy notches
(symbols shatter'd)
[r/u/n/e/s/r/i/p/p/'/d/]

farts fart

shark art

(pummel poetry)

pack light
&
runfast

(ain't no such thing as home)
(there are only words)

(or word)

₩
erd
o,r wurd

turd
turdwerk beadweek
date rape dub rub
tubby dump'd deep
bleep blather bleep
& talkin' ties tether
flimsy definitions

like trying to define that feeling of your first tougue touch
type-
writer paperscrape eyesome extravagaza
xerox
bodydance paper throw......
down town got to go
adjective fungal fugue lapis leprecaun lichin lick

waht about these final lines:

potto rainblow gold
sissyass'd faggots
fisting linguistic

2009-04-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Primiti Too Taa

2009-04-08T07:17:00.000-07:00

If you are a writer, and that is your passion, you may have at one time or another in your academic career considered enrolling in a MFA

2009-04-08T06:39:00.000-07:00

Van Halen - Hot For Teacher
Uploaded by Dan_of_the_Land

my skin flayed off to sell as magazine pages
( text on the inside,
interlaced with veins)
( the cow-cash breeds IOU's)

bleed yer tweeds twitching twit shitter
debt to debts diploma halo by the hour
& you've given up on the modernist diaspora
'cause conformity pays better,
plus yer published for suckers
puking pretty their darling critique

yawn blather critical critics
in tweed
blog about bollocks
like poetry is something fixed
well the blurb on my book is written in aramaic

I don't speak jesus
I speak
truth

where's my beer
where's my bread
where's my money
where's my president's moral compass?

in
a
banker's
pocket

(fake smile)

stanzas for cantos cunt kant & degger
stuka so stuka stoked thru divebomb
cheating is the only way to get ahead
no, scratch that,
sleeping is the only way to get some head

(hot 4 teecher)

= )

2009-04-07T09:31:00.000-07:00

i fucked up jack spicer bad one night

2009-04-06T10:45:00.001-07:00


when he was walking home drunk
he was always a easy mark
always a easy mark
      ( enjoy it radiobroke )
double dope down
& smokin' reception
i got bay area up my asshole w/ houseboat floating
onna dildo earotic rammin' overcook'd scholars
i fucked up kenneth rexroth when he told me about the
butterflies in his imagination
            ( flutterfuck'd )
     like evergreen bleeds fart garden
          ( everbleeding greed )
stolen hikoo and limp line reaching
blamo slam get your name brand
 i fucked up ginsberg busted up
   that squeezebox fuck was he
     annoying always trying to
(fuck you hippie)
          take off his clothes a cheesy idol
        for the idiot set
in ideogrammic spam
           (beats in heat)
& i fucked up corso
like a mad yak shat from my skull
all in Greek 'cause 
   th bomb bongos somewhere else
boom ye boom ye boomboom ontha corner
of 53rd or wherever the fuck it was at
            (thy dynamite crown)
            bound by clarion air
carrion lair has been and the never was
not many left to dig (up) and fuck
as we move through poetry
like were giving out invites to a kiddie party
             i never met anyone who was famous
              they just happend to write well

2009-04-06T04:30:00.000-07:00

2009-03-31T13:24:00.000-07:00

MATTER OF URGENCY... REPLY VERY SOON.... AM IN NEED RIGHT AWAY...!!!!

2009-03-31T07:21:00.000-07:00

how are you , i traveled to West africa Nigeria in Lagos for a program and i got robbed on way to the hotel .i cant believe this is happening to me right now. i need a soft loan of 1300 euros from you . i will pay you back when i arrive.please get back to me immediately you get this mail OK. waiting for your reply

amy king

2009-03-26T08:09:00.000-07:00

If Footmen Tire You, What Will Horses Do? (hilariously bad ,and in some places gory, evangelist film. cold war paranoia. )

2009-03-24T16:08:00.000-07:00

Distressed Pedagogy

2009-03-23T07:36:00.000-07:00

Dearest

How are you? I hope all is going well with you today. I know this mail will come to you as a surprise since we haven't discuss it before, but kindly bear with me at this moment. I have a special reason why I decided to contact you. My situation at hand is miserable but I trust in God and hope you will be of my help. My name is Kenneth Goldsmith 48 years old boy and I held from Republic of Manhattan the son of Late General Bernard "Ponzi" Madoff the former President of the Republic of Wall Street who was ambushed and killed by dissident socialist in the capital with his driver and a former Prefect.

I got your contact via the internet data record and I decide to seek for your help to transfer my inherited money.

I am constrained to contact you because of the maltreatment which I am receiving from my step mother. She planned to take away all my late father's treasury and properties from me since the unexpected death of my beloved Father. Meanwhile I wanted to travel to Europe, but she hide away my international passport and other valuable documents. Luckily she did not discover where I kept my father's File which contained important documents. I am presently staying in the Mission camp in New Jersey. I am seeking for long term relationship and investment assistance. My father of blessed memory deposited the sum of US$5.7Million in one of the leading bank in New Jersey with my name as the next of kin. I had contacted the Bank to clear the deposit but the Branch Manager told me that being a intellectual, my status according to the local law does not authorize me to carry out the operation. However, he advised me to provide a trustee who will stand on my behalf. I had wanted to inform my stepmother about this deposit but I am afraid that she will not offer me anything after the release of the money.

Therefore, I decide to seek for your help in transferring the money to your account while I will relocate to your country and settle down with you. I have my fathers death certificate and the account number which I will give you as soon as you indicated your interest to help me. It is my intention to compensate you with 20% of the total money for your assitance and the balance shall be my investment in any profitable venture which you will recommend to me as have no any idea about foreign investment.

Please all communications should be through this email address only for confidential purposes. I will send you my photos in my next email.

Thanking you alot in anticipation of your quick response.

Yours Sincerely,
Kenneth Goldsmith, Conceptual Poet

charles manson superstar

2009-03-20T07:10:00.000-07:00

"Poetry pregnant with thought" yea thats a thought

2009-03-15T17:52:00.000-07:00

capital P poetry is dead

2009-03-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

flarf is dead

2009-03-08T09:10:00.000-07:00

2009-03-06T11:49:00.001-08:00

A history of pop icons: Ron Silliman

Hailing from the various youth centers and high school auditoriums of San Francisco, Ron Silliman rose to the pinnacle of the pop scene in 1971 with their debut album, crow. The band's latest album, The Alphabet, merges Ron's easily digested arrangements with effervescent strumming to produce a disc overflowing with sugar-coated ditties. With standout tracks like "albany," the music of Ron Silliman appeals to pop fans and non-pop fans alike.

finally the modern problem of the Bio has been solved

Secret Of The Avant Terror Unit Clamour

2009-02-24T07:05:00.000-08:00

1. agoway

2. i'veway eenbay onway tvay umerousnay imestay

3. ymay uniformway enwhay ATEHAY alkingtay onway ethay onephay iway evernay owknay
atwhay otay ovelay emthay

6. iway ingsay inway ethay owershay... andway inway ethay arcay accidentsway, iway

iedcray ethay oneway imetay anway oldway oldway anmay
anray ingbray emay otay earstay

8. iway ooovelay ethay ellsmay ofway asolinegay

9. onnagay epstay onway

10. iway avehay otay emptyway ymay one'sphay inboxway ornbay ithoutway

ethay ommoncay encesay enegay andway isthay
isway ovenpray otay emay ouldway endspay allway ayday

inway ethay itchenkay experimentingway ifway itway
asn'tway orfay ishway iway adhay
ownknay erhay etterbay

14. imway ootay yshay orfay ymay imway olombianacay, andway onay ymay amilyfay oesday otnay
affictray ugsdray orway ymay allway imetay avoritefay ellsmay isway atthay ofway
eshfray utcay assgray orestay uzcay

iway avehay away igbay assway ollay

19. iway itebay ymay i'veway ownknay oneway ofway ymay estbay iendsfray incesay
adegray 4

21. imway avehay 0 atiencepay orfay igonorantway pplay

23. iway elivebay eamsdray avehay aryscay

24. iway illway ogay ydivingskay oneway ayday

25. iway illway aketay 1. iway awsay ayormay azelhay allionmccay atway almartway away
ewfay eeksway iway entway otay atholiccay oolschay

anymay anymay earsyay agoway asway
ideoushay!

4. iway aysay

5. iway inkthay asherslay oviesmay areway ilarioushay utbay iway
illstay arcay

... andway inway ethay elevatorway. oudlay

7. imway eathlyday afraidway ofway intoway usway, idn'tday oday anyway amageday utbay
aredscay emay enoughway otay iway on'tday ikelay ethay oceanway uzcay iway on'tday owknay
atwhay imway atway
eastlay onceway away ayday

11. iway ullytray elivebay omesay pplay areway everyway inglesay ayday atway orkway

12. iway ovelay otay ookcay, iway avinghay otay oday ethay ishesday

13. iway issmay ymay andmothergray iway ownway oodgay obablypray ywhay

iway atehay alkintay onway ethay onephay osay
uchmay

15. owgray offeecay

16. allsmay alktay isway ethay ootray ofway allway evilway

17. inway ethay ingspray

18. iway ancay onlyway uybay eansjay inway oneway ailsnay, itsway away orriblehay abithay

atthay illway obablypray evernay ebay okenbray

20. onnagay ogay eesay itneybray earsspay enwhay eshay
omescay otay orontotay

22. iway eaningmay, otnay allway utbay

omesay. iway eamdray oftenway andway
ey'rethay usuallyway ettypray away ourtay ofway alcatrazway oneway
ayday

a little death

2009-02-17T10:56:00.000-08:00

Something about the way she smelled made me feel like all the nerves in my body had been turned off. It was like a hospital. A sterile, muzzy smell of injury and old people. Her eyes reminded me of those glittery night-sky floors they have in institutions. She had lips like an ambulance door. Her words drifted over my head like a blind person doing sign language. Her teeth were champed tight and red (at first I thought that she was bleeding, but I realised that is was her lipstick) under her bloodlips. Her eyes were like dentists lights. I needed sunglasses just to look at her and when I did she seemed far away as though she were an old film watched through the wrong end of a telescope. I felt drugged. The lethargy continued as I staggered away from her and back home. As I collapsed into bed I felt a little death within me. I dreamed of ending it all, but never actually did.

2009-02-13T12:55:00.000-08:00

art history of suicide, #1 death by cop

2009-02-13T12:24:00.000-08:00

small time political rebel provokes local government into a embarrassing stand off. subsequent trial with the forgone conclusion of death penalty.

his most well-known catchphrase:
"free your mind & yer ass will follow"

"dig this brothers: fuck the earth!"

or

"these children that come at you with knives, they are your children. you taught them. I didn't teach them. I just tried to help them stand up."

2009-02-12T09:46:00.001-08:00

white trash culture that leads
off with page three and not
a topless place you
in a box, a big box
so there's room to move
inside the attraction

kind of ghosts

terrorist-orange in the face
of rising rents in virtual space
space with no people
only information

also texts

dealt from the sky
to much justified public alarm

part cowboy/part avant no pieced-on

three-button placket finis
technical brutal mix

with shapes of silence
that collide and seep existential
dread like while I had high ambitions

of making a lively posting

to rejuvenate all of you I am
obviously in need

of gunfire sounded on the streets
fatman terror town western acting
alternative art avant b-movie bad

this dick is a detatchable pussy
évoquant la transition entre l'époque
hot enough to peel paint
or increase a television show's viewership.

Visual Poetry Circus

2009-02-11T10:09:00.000-08:00

2009-02-10T12:42:00.000-08:00

-----------------------------------------------

Scattered among the serial killers,
here and there a few war criminals:

(generals, presidents, major literary critics and theorists)

This is why El Colonel is interested in those american poets with connections via their university posts direct to such institutions as the pentagon, the large arms manufacturers, the various gun and Israeli lobbies--the large oil corporations--the funding of massive IBM endowments for the furtherance of the language poets so that the dullness of the non-original the boring the copying poet wil become elevated to the status of a God!

the great god XEROX MACHINE

and the huge deity IBM MACHINE

serial robot death wars
with copy machines and PCs
running amok and
turning on their human users--

El Generalissimo Margarine Perloff commanding her battalions of
Avantist shock troops as they let loose the dogs of war, the-most-
boring-ever masses of copier works unrolling them in colossally
accurate printouts that smother whole cities in a hostile
"re enactment" of Christo's "wrappings of coastlines"

-- smothering --
-- covering --

--(this is no gift) --

the notorious mass murderer and leader of a band of bloodthirsty tongue-thugs Nor Namillis --
"Il Gringo de Sangre"--the Bloody Gringo--whose New Sentences once passed have executed the deaths, remorseless,of millions of morphemes, dispatched in the huge camps of college campuses--housed inside innocuous anthologies into which they are plunged and from they never emerge!

"The reader is allowed to create their own meaning" croaks the Prophet of Doom--sounding like a badly made non-imitation but surreptitiously an homage none the less to Poe's Raven :

--Poet--Prophet--Serial Killah--

Then there is the new poetics of BORING TO DEATH the audience --
or boring to death the unsuspecting subject accosted and dragged into the bushes or into a closet a blind alley and recited poetry of the boring school until the screaming victim expires drenched and suffocating in the aves of boredom -- the tropical effulgence of overwhelming waves of the fungi and spores emitted by his boredom which rises atop the rotting bodies as it does deep in the woods from those rotting bases of the trunks of ancient and water soaked trees long ago abandoned even by termites :

and then again the mighty Book Lover Killer--

who Loves Books to Death

meaning uses books to
love to death person
she says let me read you
passage from my most loved book
see this will really kill yah
this really slaying passage--

and voila the reader in listening is decapitated--

works better than a guillotine, every time, grins lyn hejinain,knicking some organic cookie crumbs off the hand sewn peasnat blouse she picked up off the cropse of a previous victim on one of her trips of the ukraine, russia and georgia--

you shd see those peasants she beams
they really understand how much i love these poems to death!
and they drop like fies!!
some of them their hearts burst with delight
and some of them
their heads just explode
becuase like they say,
man, is poetry a mind blowing thing!!

huth got back

2009-02-10T07:40:00.001-08:00

Kasey, Kenny, & Elvis

2009-02-09T18:39:00.000-08:00

What Makes A Poem A Poem

2009-02-09T18:20:00.000-08:00

poempigs bloody poempigs

2009-02-09T15:36:00.000-08:00

Professors gathered in their glasses
Just like witches at MFA masses
Evil meminds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of critical construction
In the pages the bodies burning
As the poem-machine keeps uh turning
Dumdeath and theory hatred to shamkind
Poisoning their brainflushed blinds, oh fuck yeah!

Universities hide themselves away
They only started the poetic war
Why should they go out to write?
They leave that role to the paperless poor

Time will tell on their powerful canon
Making essays bang like guns
Treating people just like grades of waste
Wait till their judgement slayday comes,

yeah!

Now in darkness, author stops turning
As the read-machine keeps uh burning
No more poetpigs of the power
Hand of terror has struck the hour
Day of bludgeonment, Thor is calling
On their knees, the poetpigs crawling
Begging mercy for their words
Jabberwocky, laughing, spreads its merde

All right fuckin' now!

duh-duh-duh
duuuuuuuum
duh-duh-duh
dum

ciircle jerk comix

2009-02-09T13:20:00.000-08:00

2009-02-09T13:19:00.001-08:00

when would fail security clearance
when would fail the golden dawn
when would fail Introduction to media history
when would fail the night of the long knives the long lines the broken glass
where would burn the books in blaze
where would burn machine as extension
where would burn wild eyes of the long-hair bad acid
where would burn all the hellish dead authors
why would rip the scab from a healing wound
why would rip the veil torn asunder
why would rip the wigs from the heads of poets
why would rip the fleece from a flock of passive sheep
then would melt the nails and skin
then would melt the plastics and the hair
then would melt the towers and the people
then would melt the jungle gym the play yard
who would tear the pages out of bibles
who would tear the already torn
who would tear the clothes from the survivors
who would tear the faces from the terrorists
what would write the emergency shelter
what would write some deepfunk boogie
what would write drunken like a million monkies
what would write an awesome avant asshole
we would lick our genitals if we could
we would eat our young if want
we would smell our shit if we were alone
we would kill them all

Flarf Circus

2009-02-09T12:39:00.000-08:00

Flarf Circus

2009-02-09T12:38:00.000-08:00

Poetry Leaders G8 Slummpit

2009-02-09T10:39:00.001-08:00

a.k.a.
:
who how they
cuddle the cradle of canon
with critical criminality

Warning:

2009-02-07T08:55:00.000-08:00

THIS IS WHAT POETRY SHOULD BE

allen fish

2009-02-06T03:44:00.000-08:00

the Werewolf of Wysteria howls

charles berkobaudwitz

2009-02-05T10:56:00.000-08:00

the dog said :

"To plunge to the bottom of the abyss,

whether it be Heaven or Hell,

To the bottom of the Unknown

in order to find something new ! "

and god damn it,

I listened to the mutt.

"Go out and kill"

commands father Sam.
chubby behemouth

old Chaos

Ugh, me hoot,

it hurts,

sonny boy

: blood for papa.

Terrifying head on cold teeth,

imprinting final farewell,

sleep in the boredom

of this sad lethargic world.

I am the victim

and the executioner!

Police:

Let me haunt you with these words:

I'll be back! I'll be back!

To be interpreted as

— bang bang bang, bank, bang —

ugh!!

Yours in murder,

Mr. Monster

(HEAUTONTIMOROUMENOS)

gertrude Gein 2

2009-02-05T10:48:00.000-08:00

"A graveyard is always warming but it must never be necessary to your cannibalism. "

Gertrude Gein

2009-02-04T13:46:00.001-08:00

"a corpse is a corpse is a corpse, wear them like a rose"

Ted Hughes Bundy

2009-02-04T13:44:00.000-08:00

a woman unconscious

i like them dead
dead in fields as the grass waves good
bye
dead in hills in trees where the
small animals no longer hunger

dreamtime

2009-02-03T14:21:00.000-08:00

El Colonel smiles. Neatly refolding a fresh newspaper along its crisp pleats, he places it on top of a precisely aligned stack to his left. Turning slightly to his right, he lifts and efficiently opens another briskly crackling journal from the morning mail. Every few days, in one or another language, at varying lengths in differing fonts under tersely worded headers and with now more, now less details, there are appearing enigmatic reports of a series of American poets gone missing. From the library of a bucolic small college, from a hotel lobby in a great city, from the bathroom at a conference, from sidewalk cafes and sumptuous banquets, from illicit rendezvous' and quiet nights in offices, now here, now there, American poets "minor" and "major" are vanishing without a trace.

Maya Angel-of-deathlou

2009-02-03T12:48:00.000-08:00

For best results, start video 1 at 1:26, play video 2 at slightly lower volume.

Brad Pitt: My baby looks just like Putin.

2009-02-02T09:34:00.000-08:00

but Angelina's linea nigra beneath her navel
resembled Gorbachev port wine stain

my baby looks like the future collapsing,
I'm glad I got an abortion

in the movies money is milk & the bigscreen
monolith eats the young

we can only wait until Fantasia is restored
with the holy mouse-ears of Cryo-Disney

the newest must-have-accessory in Hollywood
is having your linea nigra read

psychic to the stars,
I'm not mad, I'm not unhinged,

I talk to the dead

The Sacred Heart of Jack

2009-02-01T16:30:00.000-08:00

Transmission from the Beyond

not everything is poetry
but the poets don't
really understand

Ron, I wonder what you look like nude
or rather what you think Scarlet looks
like nude

it is very wet and dry in the underworld
the radio reception is the pits
all poets fail to understand
really understand the game
they think THIS IS IMPORTANT

but only how the poem looks naked
to those who don't dress in Scarlet while
every poet is a cock is waiting for
the season to be more than words

How to Professionally Whore for a Link on Silliman's Blog

2009-02-01T06:59:00.000-08:00

1. Mention an obscure aspect of Creeley's work.

2. Talk about Zukofsky being neglected by the poetry world.

3. Mention Spicer and O'Hara calling the kettle black.

4. Post: "Ron Silliman's 'Runway' writings as a NY School Revisionist in Rough Drag"

5. Post: "An Interview With Dodie Bellamy in Which She Proclaims (Once Again) That She is the Literary Heiress to William Burroughs and Kathy Acker."

6. Post: "Slow Poetry Meets Flarf: Metastasis of Metaphor and Morpheme in Reading Junk Mail Aloud with Other Peoples Small Children - A Poetry Seminar Outline."

7. Post: "The Role of Bay Area Geography in the Works of Language Writing in Contrast With The Role of Bay Area Geography in the Works of Beats, With Bob Kaufman as the Bridge to Oakland"

8. Post "Ron Silliman: the Oliver Stone of American Poetic History."

9. Post: "Psychodrama of the Poetic Pixel: Blogging our way toward an important footnote or link site."

10. Post: "Phlarph vs. Cumceptual: who does Perloff vote for today?"

11. Post: "Whose fat-ass shall fill the throne of post-langpo?"

12. Post: "Can the School of Blastitude be quiet'd?"

13. Post: "Public Canonization: problematic tension between theory and practice in the poetry of working with community slack action groups."

14. Post: "Oppositional Poetics: Challenging The Chasm and Jism, The Ballet Feminist Face In The Blogsphere"

15. Post that sets off Google alerts: Flarf, Flarf, Flarf, Flarf, Flarf.

Kevin Killian's Customer Reviews

2009-02-01T06:02:00.000-08:00

There is something simultaneously pathetic and hilarious about seeing Kevin "Action Kylie" Killian's Amazon book reviews on poetry blogrolls:

Kevin Killian's Customer Reviews

Kevin Killian gave 5 stars to:
Reese Witherspoon: The Biography

Kevin Killian's Customer Reviews

Kevin Killian gave 5 stars to:
I Can't Believe I'm Still Single:
Sane, Slightly Neurotic (but in a Sane Way)
Filmmaker into Good Yoga,
Bad Reality TV, Too Much Chocolate,
and a Little ... Point Anyone
Who'll Let Me Watch Football

It's almost like a soap opera. What will Kevin Killian read today? Will he choose to review a doll like 2002 Holiday Celebration Barbie? Will he give it 5 stars or only 3?

Dear Bilderberg Group, no sorry, Dear Hate Socialist Collective

2009-01-30T16:36:00.000-08:00

This box figurine is part of our Lord Byron's Harmony Garden Collection from The Harmony Kingdom. Each line you wrote represents a new journey for our Lord Byron (a ladybug). This box depicts every poets and translators noted for poems which seem to have been written after death. On the outside is carved the guts and insides of our Lord Byron dreaming up his new HIKOO's. This is a retired, limited edition piece (edition size is 99,999). It was released on 9/11/01 and retired on 01/19/09. Dimensions are 3.07x 2.68 x 2.32 (inches). It has a tiny chip on one of the petals, but is otherwise a rippin good read. It is in the original box, and has been stored in a smoke-free environment, in the ground.

love Avant Terror Unit

As poetry destroys itself in horrific anger

2009-01-30T07:07:00.000-08:00

As nouns destroys themselves in horrific anger
As cities destroy themselves in horrific anger

As flarf destroys itself in horrific anger
As email destroys itself in horrific anger

As syntax destroys itself in horrific anger
As grammar destroys itself in horrific anger
As the SoQ destroys itself in horrific anger
As list-servs destroy themselves in horrific anger

As the Avant Terror Unit destroys itself in horrific anger
As Issue One destroys itself in horrific anger
As vispo destroys itself in horrific anger
As poetry blogs destroy themselves in horrific anger

As chapbooks destroy themselves in horrific anger

As Poet Laureates destroy themselves in horrific anger
As small presses destroy themselves in horrific anger
As comment boxes destroy themselves in horrific anger

As L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E destroys itself in horrific anger

As anti-war poems destroys themselves in horrific anger
As American Apparel destroys itself in horrific anger
As the Guggenheim destroys itself in horrific anger

As the NEA destroys itself in horrific anger
As the global economy destroys itself in horrific anger
As politicians destroy themselves in horrific anger

As teacher destroy themselves in horrific anger
As the capitalism destroys itself in horrific anger
As patriarchy destroys itself in horrific anger
As matriarchy destroys itself in horrific anger
As horrific anger destroys itself in horrific anger

Poets are left with tiniest of Molotov cocktails' shaped like
exclamation marks

criminal wall of silence

2009-01-29T09:18:00.000-08:00

2009-01-28T10:44:00.000-08:00

basically the "avant” is like feng shui room rearrangement

one moves things around in the room to present a different appearance and one claimed to be more "beneficial" in ethical and aesthetic terms, yet the room and the furniture themselves all remain the same

in effect ubu web is the graveyard of the avant garde

not an example of its functioning but a vast collection of tombstones like the final scenes
the good the bad and the ugly

in other words--could Columbine or 9/11 be prevented if one simply rounded up everyone whose thoughts employed images and words, music and videos etc which depict ideas, actions, aesthetics "outside the mainstream"

photo: Kenneth Goldsmith, artist with Cheryl Donegan, artist and member of the judging panel @ The First Irish American Arts Awards

2009-01-28T08:57:00.000-08:00

cooptation by not funny woman poet, target of capitalist objectification

2009-01-28T08:08:00.000-08:00

arcade peep show coin operated sonnet generator

best little poetry whorehouse in po mo po biz

dominates Buffalo Poetics List

list-serv attention whores' g-strings in a wad:

mayflower MFA madame upset:

"somebody's giving it away for free
while we should be getting paid "

this is your last chance

to give some love to the troubled fuller brush man

lightbulbs and brooms aren't selling as well
door to door as they once did

sorry an error has occurred
capitalism's short circuited

the feed for our moral hard wringing is probably down

try again later it was reported in a copy of the New Yorker

war is over if you want it

i thought poetry whores were provided free
for those who serve our cuntry?

Helen Reddy plays the grandma in

crush · crybabies · crying like a little girl ·

customer service · cue · damn kids ·
damn kids with their post-avant rock 'n roll

singing her same old same old I Am Woman
Poet Hear Me Roar tune

and a now new single:
"How Do I Lust for Thee,

Small Press Distribution Best Sellers List Year End List."

Our technical service group has been notified
of this error
Please do not email me about this
Just sit and wait it out

Good luck and best of the season

2009-01-28T07:13:00.000-08:00

"Terrorism in art is called the avant-garde," quipped Alberto Moravia in his essay "The Aesthetics of Terrorism." If this was once the case, it is no longer. Most avant-garde art is viewed and created today as simply an enfolding reaction to its own history. This disingenuous game-playing guarantees that the avant-garde can no longer stimulate or even provoke. Dada and Futurist actions, which attempted to lead art out of the classroom and museum and into the streets, are simply appropriated by postmodernist facsimiles which capture the letter but little of the original essence. It hardly matters anyway. Avant-garde art has evolved into nothing more than a cultural benchwarmer, corporate tax write-off and public relations smokescreen. Art which openly espouses anti-corporate ideology is embraced as long as it hews to arbitrary standards invented by those taste-making and fortune-telling hirelings, the art critics. What could be wrong, after all, with a business world that allows people to say what they want (because it doesn't matter)?

2009-01-28T07:06:00.000-08:00

2009-01-27T11:57:00.000-08:00

speci.e:l

obama manson

2009-01-27T11:54:00.000-08:00

The New Punk Funnies

2009-01-27T11:07:00.000-08:00

for handmethmade matchbook
(in flames) Huge Inventory

in concept, dictionary is boring

& brick sez OE D(ump)

[ to break]
brique or bryke

some kiln needs heat
Did you go to the A Global Threat
show? It was punk as fuck
toppling builtings
windowless from above

Angry, Young and Poor

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loudfast bombast
blank to blank
& novoid
flung future

doomdoom
crustlump
scuzzy junk
feed the fetus

someone who
is really good for nothing
has a bad attitude towards life
and gets wasted all the time

GOD SLAVE THE QUEEN
Slid is Viscous punk as fuck
Billy Rotten hellbendy heartcore
Henry Rollicks talkshow dbeatpersecond
Joey Backbone buzzkill dropdead
Darby Crash'd fast whiplash

brick brick brick

brickWALLbrick

brick brick brick

argh for argh sake

HOW TO GET PUBLISHED IN POST-AVANT CIRCLES

2009-01-26T12:14:00.000-08:00

1. pick up this text

2. hurl book through that window.

3.tomorrow, send a bill to the gallery for your performative enaction of selling them a kinetic readymade, it would be good to include an elaborate essay about the importance of your Ignatz impersonation.

maybe i'll call it "an airing out"

Avant-Garde vs. Wannabe Avant-Tard

2009-01-26T09:23:00.001-08:00

Dada, 1916:

We didn’t survive a mud filled trench, mustard gassings, and a worldwide influenza pandemic so that some community college “profs” could ham it up at a trade show.

Flarf, 2008:

Photo by Annie Leibovich for Vanity Fare at the Walker Art Center

Sharon Mesmer is wearing a shirt from The Gap, jeans from Calvin Klein, and Louis Ferragamo boots. K. Silem Mohammad is wearing a jacket and slacks from Banana Republic and a shirt from Today’s Man in New York. Nada Gordon is wearing is wearing a dress from Dress Barn, shoes by Miu Miu, and bracelets from a tourist shop in Chinatown. Gary Sullivan is wearing a jacket and jeans from Jcrew.com, and shoes from Barney's.

2009-01-25T19:12:00.000-08:00

2009-01-25T11:08:00.000-08:00