Wednesday, December 15, 2010

touch, down

no tengo tiempo de cambiar mi vida de rockdrigo gonzales

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

a copper coin on the tip of the tongue

1. boil a pot full of rosemary; do not remove the roots, do not shake off the dirt
2. there is more under the windows and hanging over the bed
3. the sour smell of fermented vegetables makes you tremble
4. and the carpet scrapes your palms
5. walking hours on red roads stains your socks to the ankles
6. she stopped the car, walked into the field, and picked cotton for free
7. mix together grits and ground beef, deep fry in peanut oil
8. never tell anyone about the myth i wove
9. or, if you do, weave it over again to spare me some sorrow
10. she clutches a hand me down handkercheif as if it were a diamond ring
11. an emerald studded wristwatch worn after the whistle
12. fold your arms across your chest and lie until you've truthed

Sunday, November 21, 2010

one day the sea is willing to bear you upon her back like a liquid elephant

If I devote myself to other pursuits and contemplations, I must first see, at least, that I do not pursue them sitting upon another man's shoulders. I must get off him first, that he may pursue his contemplations too. See what gross inconsistency is tolerated. HDT, "CD"

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

times tables

bring it on home to me by sam cooke

Friday, October 22, 2010

screen door, noche enmalezada

heart of gold by neil young

Sunday, October 10, 2010

north star blues

tienes que fajarte de ray santiago

Saturday, October 2, 2010

polygamy or the crack in the molasses jar

[Il] divisait les êtres en trois catégories : ceux qui préfèrent n'avoir rien à cacher plutôt que d'être obligés de mentir, ceux qui préfèrent mentir plutôt que de n'avoir rien à cacher, et ceux enfin qui aiment en même temps le mensonge et le secret. JPS, La chute

Thursday, September 30, 2010

TSOBF, Ch. 3

...think that the Negro's only hope lies in emigration beyond the borders of the United States. And yet, by the irony of fate, nothing more effectually made this programme seem hopeless than the recent course of the United States toward weaker and darker peoples in the West Indies, Hawaii, and the Phillipines, -for where in the world may we go and be safe from lying and brute force?

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

all the possible objects of the verb require

by the rivers of babylon by the melodians

Sunday, September 26, 2010

patillas de Vicente Guerrero, lentes de Malcom X

El abogado se sentó en la mesa y estudió la cara de Héctor en silencio.

Héctor trató de hacer lo mismo. Le veía las sienes, el área donde el pelo cedía a la patilla y empezaba a crecer más áspero. Le veía el labio inferior. Se concentraba en el pequeño agujero en que se insertaba el aro de plata. Se concentraba en respirar profundo para que el cosquilleo que le entraba por la base de la columna vertebral no saliera de ahí.

"Supongo que te pareces a la foto", dijo el abogado.

"¿Cuál foto?"

El abogado puso un sobre tamaño carta en la mesa.

"No lo vayas a abrir."

Monday, September 6, 2010

where i got my hands

flying by vic chesnutt

Friday, September 3, 2010

anthromorphic metropole to stage intervention with words on a string

The Western metropole must confront its postcolonial history, told by its influx of postwar migrants and refugees, as an indigenous or native narrative iternal to its national identity.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Double Fisted Draw

arthur murray by vic chestnutt

Friday, August 27, 2010

carrying a two story metal staircase down the street

this week a bee landed on my plate and struck a pose in my taco. i tried to coax it onto the table with a piece of pineapple, then the stallkeeper noticed my discomfort and took it between his fingers and carried it over to a dandelion. but it came back and started swimming in the salsa until the man fished it out by its tiny thorax and put it on the same flower. when i walked away it was drying itself off.

when a bee lands around you, it is a sign that you are afraid of the wrong thing. remember that. watch them stay, watch them go, watch the teeth marks in your arm.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

traducir e intraducir

tiro de gracia, puntualizar, apuntar, externar, rearticularse, damnificar, priorizar, indemnizar, cuenca del caribe, neutralizar el contenido, desgranar, autodeterminación, integrado por, campesino, agroecológico, chacra, expansión sojera, monocultivo, por las buenas o por las malas, estado de excepción, agronegocio, tejido colectivo, asentamiento, plantarle cara, trueque, hacer las veces, lustrabotas, vendedor, clientelismo

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


dedicated to you by john coltrane and johnny hartman

Saturday, August 21, 2010

13 Colonies of British North America

1. 1607 VIRGINIA (Elizabeth I, Virgin Queen of England)*
2. 1620 MASSACHUSETTS (M. Indian word, "large hill place")*
3. 1623 NEW HAMPSHIRE (County of Hampshire)*
4. 1634 MARYLAND (Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of K. Charles I)
5. 1635 CONNECTICUT (Algonquin, "land on the long tidal river")
6. 1636 RHODE ISLAND ("Roodt Eylandt", Azd. Dutch, "red earth")
7. 1638 DELAWARE (Lord de la Warr, Norman Fr., "de le werre")
8. 1653 NORTH CAROLINA (King Charles I, Latin "Carolous")*
9. 1663 SOUTH CAROLINA (King Charles I)*
10. 1664 NEW JERSEY (Island of Jersey in English Channel)*
11. 1664 NEW YORK (Duke of York)*
12. 1682 PENNSYLVANIA (William Penn's father, Latin "Sylvania")
13. 1732 GEORGIA (King George II)*

*Royal Colony

Monday, August 16, 2010

mentalízalo bien pajarito


El planeta que reinaba cuando naciste, favorece mucho tu destino,
Vives con la preocupación de un amor incierto, te duele la indiferencia con que te trata.
Pero no desesperes que pronto resibiras demostraciones de afecto se trata de una persona noble y sincera que te profesa gran cariño.
Debo decirte algo más

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Said traduce Gramsci traduce Szurmuk

El punto de partida para la elaboración crítica es la conciencia de lo que uno es en realidad y que ‘el conocerse a sí mismo’ es un producto de los procesos históricos que han depositado en uno una infinidad de marcas sin dejar un inventario (16).

Monday, July 26, 2010

arropado tan sólo por el viento

1. put down your stick of chalk
2. get on the train and leave
3. take off all your muletillas
4. pretend you are the clue
5. the clue is underneath the pile of your discarded muletillas
6. the clue is an anagram made with the first letters of the maternal last names of all the passengers in car number eight
7. that’s the car that carried miners south
8. now it’s full of brick masons disguised as chamber musicians disguised as brick masons
9. brick mason is an anagram for
10. you erected a train station using apocryphal desires
11. get on the train and leave
12. whether or not it is right whether or not it is certain
13. put down your stick of chalk
14. put your ear to the panoramic window

Sunday, July 25, 2010

autumn lungs

cuerpo sin alma de las colombianitas

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

in addition to that willow cabin we talked about

Casi obsceno

Si quisieras oír lo que me digo en la almohada
el rubor de tu rostro sería la recompensa
Son palabras tan íntimas como mi propia carne
que padece el dolor de tu implacable recuerdo

Te cuento ¿Sí? ¿No te vengarás un día? Me digo:
Besaría esa boca lentamente hasta volverla roja
Y en tu sexo el milagro de una mano que baja
en el momento más inesperado y como por azar
lo toca con ese fervor que inspira lo sagrado

No soy malvado___Trato de enamorarte
Intento ser sincero con lo enfermo que estoy
y entrar en el maleficio de tu cuerpo
como un río que teme el mar pero siempre muere en él

R. G. Jattin

Almost Obscene

If you’d like to hear what I say into the pillow
the flush from your cheeks could be my reward
The words are as intimate as my own flesh
which bears the pain of your implacable memory

Should I tell you? Will you use it against me someday? I say:
I would kiss that mouth slowly I would turn it red
And between your legs the miracle of a hand that reaches
in the most unexpected moment and as if by chance
touches you with a fervor reserved for sacred things

I'm no villain___I’m trying to make love to you
I’m trying to be honest about my sickness
and to plunge into the your body’s curse
like the river that fears the sea yet always dies in her

Saturday, July 10, 2010

whiteface is and whiteface isn't

From Kander and Ebb's musical version of The Scottsboro Boys

If the South is many places and many times running together, I wonder if my desire to defend it isn't is also the desire to mutilate it or mythify it. I can't criticize it until I can live in all those places and times. Would that cause me to internally combust? This is why I need Cornejo Polar.

Richard Wright and William Faulkner were Mississippi born contemporaries, and yet are shelved in different sections of U.S. literary history. They both make walls visible and immobility hurt. Faulkner's walls taste like molasses, and Wright's just taste like concrete with your teeth dug in. But the molasses and the dust come from underneath my tongue. Their books are stacks of ink stained pages. The way we choose to read or look or retell is what gives meaning to history and fiction.

Who sees the murals in the county courtroom? Who needs the obelisk in Linn Part to honor the obelisk in Linn Park? How much was Charles Linn's iron worth? Bibb Graves congratulated Jay Sandlin for shooting Ozie Powell in the head in 1946. Will someone someday write a vampy neo poco minstrel number for Oscar Grant?

article about Oscar Grant:

Sunday, July 4, 2010

the ocean pours from your ears

1. here, take my handkercheif
2. windows trace you
3. pretend it is the sound of hwy 95

Sunday, June 27, 2010

has healed more scars than jesus

Se dice que hay varias maneras de mentir; pero la más repugnante de todas es decir la verdad, toda la verdad, ocultando el alma de los hechos. Porque los hechos son siempre vacíos, son recipientes que tomarán la forma del sentimiento que los llene. JCO, El pozo

Friday, June 25, 2010

don't blink; your face is a map

alabama by the louvin brothers

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


1. sewn into a tshirt
2. growing in my belly
3. a few shards still embedded in my heart
4. flapping against the flagpole
5. a past poorly hidden
6. poorly seen
7. cojean los ricos, yo no
8. cojean los pobres, yo no
9. los cojos cojean, yo camino sobre murallas

Friday, June 18, 2010

TSOBF, Ch. 3

The South is not "solid"; it is a land in the ferment of social change, wherein forces of all kinds are fighting for supremacy; and to praise the ill the South is today perpetrating is just as wrong as to condemn the good. Discriminating and broad-minded criticism is what the South needs,--needs it for the sake of her own white sons and daughters, and for the insurance of robust, healthy mental and moral development.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

whatever colors you have

lay lady lay by magnet and gemma hayes

Monday, May 10, 2010

keep your splendid silent sun

1. lentejas en tus bolsillos
2. anticucho
3. alféizar fogata
4. el mensaje resuena en el tubo grillo metal
5. gave away my gloves
6. distilled through carbon
7. donde almanecé un vientito
8. sacrosanct
9. viscous

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Friday, April 16, 2010

salt water drips from the hem of your cape

outside sleepwalkers mummies danger inside she slowly reveals unhurriedly touch unseen transformation what melts away in warm water window sleep

Thursday, April 15, 2010

drops names like petals

golden slumbers de los beatles

Wednesday, April 14, 2010


black and blue by louis armstrong

Sunday, April 11, 2010

kde domov můj

for the sake of the song by townes van zandt

Friday, March 5, 2010

Sorrow is the Only Faithful One

Sorrow is the only faithful one:
The lone companion clinging like a season
To its original skin no matter what the variations.

If all the mountains paraded
Eating the valleys as they went
And the sun were a cliffure on the highest peak,

Sorrow would be there between
The sparkling and the giant laughter
Of the enemy when the clouds come down to swim.

But I am less, unmagic, black,
Sorrow clings to me more than to doomsday mountains
Or erosion scars on a palisade.

Sorrow has a song like a leech
Crying because the sand's blood is dry
And the stars reflected in the lake

Are water for all their twinkling
And bloodless for all their charm.
I have blood, and a song,

O. Dodson

La pena es la única que es fiel

La pena es la única que es fiel:
La compañera solitaria se aferra como una temporada
A su piel original a pesar de las variaciones.

Si todas las montañas se desfilaran
Comiendo las valles mientras iban
Y el sol se colgara al borde del acantilado más alto

Estaría ahí la pena entre
El brillar y la risa inmensa
Del enemigo cuando las nubes se bajan a nadar.

Pero yo soy menos, sin magia, negro,
La pena se aferra a mí más que a las montañas apocalípticas
O las cicatrices de la erosión en una palizada.

La pena tiene un canto como una sanguijuela
Que llora porque se ha secado la sangre de la arena
Y las estrellas que se reflejan en el lago

Son agua a pesar de todo su centellear
Y exangües a pesar de todo su encanto.
Yo tengo sangre, y una canción.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

how i can belong to you girl

when i ran off and left her by vic chestnut cover by me

Monday, February 8, 2010

La hamaca nuestra

Ven hasta la hamaca donde escribí
el libro dedicado a tu sagrada presencia
Ella me recuerda toda esa soledad
que dormí en ella__Todos esos gestos de mi
persiguiéndole el vuelo a las palabras
que grabaran en un tiempo menos frágil
la lluvia de tus lágrimas__El reposo soñado
en tu pecho__La mañana eternamente memorable
de nuestras manos enlazadas en medio
del tumulto

En el vientre de esa hamaca recosté
mi cansancio de la vida__Acuné dolores
Me defendí de la canícula__Y soñé:
Tú venías en medio de la noche a consolarme
y eso dije__Escribía un poema que preservara
tu memoria y eso hice__Desatar mis alas
tristes y lloré

Tiéndete que yo te meceré para refrescarte
si te es posible duerme__Que yo velaré

R. G. Jattin

Our Hammock

Como all the way to the hammock where I wrote
a book for your sacred presence
This hammock reminds me of the loneliness
I slept through here__All the gestures from my
running after words in flight
that they might in a less fragile time record
the rain of your tears__The longed for rest
on your chest__The eternally memorable morning
of our fingers woven together in the middle
of the tumult

I laid down my weariness in this
hammock’s womb__I cradled my burdens
I fended off summer’s hottest days__And I dreamt:
You came in the middle of the night to console me
and I said that__I wrote a poem to preserve
your memory and I did that__Untie my sad
wings and I cried

Lay down and I’ll rock you to cool you
if you can, sleep__I’ll stay awake

the heaviest corner on earth is full of dead people


Wednesday, January 27, 2010

we washed the golden fleece and laid it in the sun to dry

1. more effective than a ribbon or a ring
2. an exercise in sinesthesia

Friday, January 22, 2010

e o que eu não sei mas

baby de os mutants

Oh Walt Whitman

Ustedes que no conocen
esta jaula
¿Han cantado alguna vez
a la libertad?
Porque el carcelario gozó
con su delito
sin embargo
yo que no soy delincuente
estoy preso
y canto a lo libre
a lo que vuela
a lo que canta
sin ningún provecho personal

R. G. Jattin

You who don't know
this cage
Have you ever once sung
to liberty?
Because the prisoner took pleasure
in his crime
I who am no delincuent
am imprisoned
and I sing to what is free
to what flies
to what sings
without any personal gain