Wednesday 1/2/2013

* it’s the next year, it’s this year
* this is the year
* this is surely the year
* I have ten gajillion projects and will market/network them all
* for YOU facebook, for YOU twitter, for YOU instagram, for YOU tumblr

* in the Hobbit house the bag end hobbit house
the dwarves are singing, are oaken and broken
* and the meanest orc of all is named Moby Dick
* and his side (arm) is pierced by a lance
* and he rides a white wolf

* he is very well educated, as you can see
* by the marks on his face, the barnacles
* and the gulls wheeling above his wake
* they are not gorgeously attired
* they weare grey suits

Random lines from my bookshelf:

“What is ‘armed love’ [Huey Newton]? How to account for the historical situation common to us all so that the process of knowing, of loving, of writing, gives evidence of all conclusions the flesh is aware of.
FIVE MUSK DEER, FRIGHTENED BY A PACK OF WILD DOGS BAYING OUTSIDE THEIR ENCLAVE, JUMPED OVER A TEN FOOT FENCE AND FELL DOWN AN EMBANKMENT ONTO THE FREEWAY BELOW WHERE THEY WERE KILLED INSTANTLY IN THE ONCOMING TRAFFIC.”
— Larry Felson, “Apraxia: the Local Swamp,” in Shocks: Poetry & Criticism: The Bay Area and Northern California, March, 1974.

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