To begin ...

As the twentieth century fades out
the nineteenth begins
it is as if nothing happened
though those who lived it thought
that everything was happening
enough to name a world for & a time
to hold it in your hand
unlimited.......the last delusion
like the perfect mask of death

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Dave Brinks: From “A Pot of Lips” in THE SECRET BRAIN: Selected Poems 1995-2012, Three Collaborations

 please note. a list of postings after january 12, 2012 can be found here
This world is simply the curtain
       concealing the true mise-en-scène
               of the eternal spectacle
                             —Jean Arp
Slingshot of the Golden Loam
in collaboration with Andrei Codrescu 
Dear Mister Saucy Pants (aka. God)
you shine like honey
                            and bed your lust
between us & the blood
of a thousand hungry sleep scrolls
where's your manners?
You let them fundamentaliss
  and comuniss
run your business for You
   when Your children here we are
      in our midnight milkmen suits
        do your work kaleidoscope-like &
           animated by so much love it hurts
                give us back our do-nothing prayers
                                              Your twisted sons
or a knife or a bottle or a club or a gun
just knowing You are hurtling
                             somewhere on this dark night
bad comedies in my head
around the bend I see astrophysicists
       leaving the convention hall to murder You
                with particle accelerators
We give you political asylum, Lord
          and honey to rub on your ontological weariness
                    and a bell to summon us when You are frightened
                    We come running innocent blobs of blood & faith
         too broken by years & thoughts You never told us
We live a ruin on busted street corners
shoving songs
                   in Your children's mouths
where laughter seems out of place
and the intention
             of the organism is to scream
                               but that coup de foudre look on their faces
is a wolf to our sheep
    we shed the fleece & go on eating the grass, nubby skulls
on hillsides, gypsies on beds of cana
                        ready to march this mother father land
laid end to end
quilt of lovebites crosshatched by scars
             we are the freckle hunters parachuted
                    behind the enemy lines
                                of the bean counters
                                         we drag our parachutes in front of us
                                                    through doors
into misplaced paradises
                                                   the head hangs
the hands
                                                   handcuffed to bedposts
                         where sleep is perfect
and more terrible than air
Glomming the Crwth
in collaboration with Anselm Hollo 
dear hombre in the treetop hat 
     & how it goes 
     & should a dog read this at 
some time in the future – c’est si bon 
             to hocus the animals of pursuers 
                        twinkling upon these oaken shelves 
as the goddess stands 
     in front of her cave 
     blood on the saddle! 
     tumbleweed to dream in 
what goes where, here 
             now to say (in zomboid) 
                        wee terrible human, a love supreme

This poem was inspired by lines from Anselm Hollo’s book Man in the Treetop Hat.

Mr. & Mrs. Houdini’s Treacherous Voyage
in collaboration with Bernadette Mayer 
changing white wine to red wine
          shit-be-gone gift wrap
                    that unworried-look on your face
          when I said "no brakes!"
sorghum cooking frog(s)
          man-eating skunks
                    inchworm Xings
          Lucky-Bo-Diddly balcony seats
Humming Turtle Room dreamcasts
          beer-swapping foot massages on Algiers’ ferry
                    dastardly thunderstorm candlelit porch-a-thons
          giant puppet show Virgin Mary sightings
Cha Cha Malgooni’s (sic) lifetime achievement award
          resuscitation of peonies with hazmat suit [Daniel]
                    donut volcano appreciation hour [Amy]
          jedi mind tricks on police [Max]
many-headed pigeon vision quest [Sophia]
          strawberry rhubarb pie concierge [Marie]
                    taoist egg collector & flamingo safari [Zack]
          Evil Knieval stunt double [Hector]
auditory hallucinations speaking backward in Yodanese
          earthworks & igloo sweat lodgings [Atticus]
                    backyard dessert eating bear competition [Grace]
          pork death pot [Phil]
Pot Pot Pot & The Lighthouse Philharmonic [John]
          high priestess of cephalopod [Sor Juana]
                    one of three evils [Harris]
          mythical beast witness protection program [Michael]
plymouth rock tosser & distinguished chair sitter [Simon]
          global poetry warmer [Brenda]
                    Arthurian round tableists [Peter & Liz]
          Apple Dumpling Gang leader [Tom]
deep water rescue team [Pierre, Nicole & Miles]
          flying lessons with Underwater Goosebill [Jamey]
                    Ed Teach & Mary Read [Tony & Lee Ann]
whatdya think the weather’s like in Buenas Aires?

note.  In The Secret Brain Dave Brinks continues his primary work as poet, following his brilliant emergence three years ago with the publication by Black Widow Press of Caveat Onus, The Complete Poem Cycle.  A new strategy here, as seen in the preceding, is his exploration of the art of collaboration & with that an idea of poetry, for all its idiosyncrasies, as a collective work – for our time & beyond.  With all of that he remains a primary voice for his native place – New Orleans – born & raised there & dedicated to keeping alive the idea of a great New Orleans avant-garde, both past & present, for which he serves as a passionate researcher & patron spirit.  For this his principal new  outlet is Entrepôt , a literary periodical whose principal aim, he writes, “[is] to explore New Orleans cultural history as well as its ongoing foothold in the world of art and letters; by presenting new documents, scholarship, and documentation to restore the importance of New Orleans’ storied past in contemporary poetics and art.”  As such it stands beside his other work as editor-in-chief of YAWP: A Journal of Poetry & Art, publisher of Trembling Pillow Press, director of 17 Poets! Literary & Performance Series, founder of The New Orleans School for the Imagination, & literary editor of ArtVoices magazine.  These make a combination of good works that are well nigh indispensable – for him & all of us. (J.R.)
    Previous postings on Poems and Poetics appeared here & here.

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