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Snapshots 28 September, 2005
second time around's not better
loopholes loopholes
outward & empty courage but
politics is corruption now
power alone &
youth must serve age
serve? served up
endlessly into the maw
contemplating war & the fear
on which power keeps hold
now & for ever amen
down on their knees
slaves slaver as ordered
Douglas Barbour
September 28-29 2005
***
"Chance is the best director." [Andre Bazin]
take it to the limit
but lime it
take it to the highway
but hive it
take it to your leader
but lead it
take it to your reader
but write it
*
taking a chance on love
without trying it on
swapping the ring from
hand to hand
clapping
*
the look this spring
is for floral patterns
on extended limbs
window dressing
the street
Andrew Burke
28 Sept 2005
Mt Lawley
***
LYNNDIE ENGLAND TO HER BABY SON
(after a New York Times photograph)
I can't quite look I have to
shift my eyes
everyone will think it's
because I don't give a shit
how about guilt?
What have I done to this child
what have I done to this child
made him
without a second thought
without a thought could believe
coming even for a few seconds
that this was invulnerability
even inside this goddamned prison
I wanted Graner lying married bastard
I should have settled
for a gag-gift vibrator or a cucumber
I was bored
he talked to me like I was
pretty instead of a Cabbage Patch doll
only thing we did in that place
was screw with military precision
"C'mere Lynddie we have three minutes!"
precise double-time
child that should not have been born
to grow up with grandparents
live to hate his father
hate me
hawk phlegm: Happy Mother's Day every year
"Where's your mom and dad?"
"Doing time in Federal prison
for torturing towelheads."
Am I smart enough to say
"I vus honly vollowing orderz!"
and do the Sieg Heil salute?
No, the asshole writing this is putting words
in my mouth but he's teaching me
something.
Maybe I dream when I look at the child
of the Ft. Bragg veterinarian
phenobarbital overdoses spare my son
the misery of carelessness
the misery made by this goddamn boredom
the misery made of this fear fear fear
spare him my and his father's names
Go ahead, shits. Think me a monster
for holding the fleeting thought that our son
might do real well animal sacrifice
a kid with no future Lynndie England's whelp
on PTS day in the animal shelter
No.
Maybe there is a forgetting.
Perhaps a forgiving.
You will look into the plainness of my face
deadness of my eyes
I will not tell you.
Kenneth Wolman
***
CONTACT SHEET
A wooden table...
Planks of wood, bolted
on a black metal frame...
Bolt-heads bruised somewhat:
A dark eye, rounding
an eclipsed planet
orbiting a night sphere
partly occluding
a burnished brown light...
Dampness, darkening
the dry wood, spreads out
from each bolt spindle... The poor beyond walls
Wood fiber up close
showing fine detail;
cracks along the grain,
stains and miasmas,
ruptures and splitting,
seeing by dim light;
crevasses, adits,
caves and souterrains;
shapes in thick sea mist...
Line smoothed into wash...
Backdrop and foreground...
The end of a world
on all four made sides...
The table remains:
what's left of forest
turned to house chattel...
enlarged by constructs
an environment...
a fabrication
Lawrence Upton
***
The Response
bluebird wing
soars
signals
windflower petals
open
smooth
stems held firm
in pine needle
beds
autumn born
again
Judy Prince
9.28.05
***
this rain
shivers on us
again
but again
that rare thing
extemporises
grey lain
among the green
or
orange lights
chase moving shadows
there
between road
and rotting rail
impasse
an action
of the state
anxious
sheeting
the lifting jet
fears
goes into
the seeded clouds
passing
we pass
as we go
into
Jill Jones
28 September 2005, 4.45pm
***
TO WRITE
he
decided
to do
some writing
so he chose
his pit
dug up
the clay
pounded it
puddled it
sieved it
settled it
kneaded it
wedged it
formed his
square tablet
found sharpened
his reed stylus
signing lists
pictograms
cuneiforms
and waited for
sunny weather
but he had
sort of lost
his train of
thought.
Pmcmanus
Raynesparkuk
***
ReExamine
"Materialize, act or"
World Savings
Money to Buy or Refi
Men Working Above
Fog lifts for Haight-Ashbury
Resident at SFMOMA
Warming Gains Converts
Towers of Babble
Stay in Touch
Homeless 7 1/2 Months Pregnant
Just Trying to Get Through
Another Day
The Chaos of Consciousness
Smarter on Drugs?
The Intelligence Explosion
Einstein's Brains Come to Life
- And Goes on A Rampage
Chocolate Bars from Around the World
Hospital Halts Organ Program
To Conserve Gas President
Calls for Less Driving
Try Our New Caramel Iced Latte
Slow Down Shape Up
Over Dump Expansion
Are You Prepared? 72Hours.Org
Almost Heaven
John Denver's America
Expression Theater Presents
Dead Certain
Can You Hear Me Now? Good
Saks Loves Name Dropping
It Might Be Three Days
Before Services
Are Restored
It's Affordable It's Effective
Advertise Here
Walk for Hope to Cure Breast Cancer
Win the Ultimate baby Gap Shower
Every Epistle is a New Year
Closer to Truth
20 Years 6 Friends 1 Murder
Productivity Doesn't
Require Proximity
It's Time to Arrive
Before You Get There
Stephen Vincent
San Francisco September 27, 2005
***
Your birth, the birth that follows
The birth that follows the death
The death that follows then, even
That follows the empty space
The vast remarkable empty space that follows
The no space that follows the no thing
The empty that nothing came before
The chair you sat in, the cup you drank from
The spot on the table where your elbow rested
The treasure of tasks you left undone
You left undone
Your dreads askew, your books unread
Your shoes unlaced
Your death that followed your birth
The call to you unanswered
Holding you then
it all came undone
In the instant that followed
No other instant
-Peter Ciccariello
9/28/2005 12:19:33 AM
***
TALK, PETER DELPEUT
This is how you are fooled.
"Chance is the best director." [Andre Bazin]
Maybe we should ask him
if we can put it in.
A little song in the head for
getting the pace.
Hand-cranking: you feel
there's a human body behind the image.
Tried to get back
this whole emotional hand-cranking.
Traveling in a country you don't know
someone who's already dead meets you in the eye.
Barry Alpert / Silver Spring, MD US / 9-28-05 (12:26 AM)
Quarried from a question & answer session with the Dutch filmmaker after
his in-person screening of "Treasures of the Rijksmuseum" and "Cinema
Perdu" at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. I had been unable
to write while watching those films, largely because they lacked any verbal
or written language which one could attribute to the director. Even the Q
& A seemed likely to provide only an inscription, and I thought I was
merely taking notes about his aesthetics. Reading these notes the next day
I discovered a text responsive to some of the qualities I had admired in
Delpeut's treatment of deteriorating found footage in his films "Lyrical
Nitrate" & "Diva Dolorosa".
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