New Poems

Le Quartier des Spectacles

Everything I am supposed to be,
at all times,
forever to everyone.

Everything I am supposed to be.
At all times.
Forever to everyone.


Marmalade

I’m in the number 2 on High, I see:
Miles, Jared, Star, Derek.

401K being Anna Karina dancing,
Kate Bush: The Dreaming, my IRA.
Total gross income twixt the
back and front sticker covers;
markers over OSU libraries.

Refuse pile, refuse pile,
It’s some other continuum.

We drink, fight and fuck.  G.G.
Beg, cry and kneel.             J.J.
Live, love and suck.           ?????????
Sleep, somnolent and feel.  J.J

En some other continuum.

Total net intake; FY 2010: Marmalade.

Enter man on bike on sidewalk on grass.
Cheeringly, “Homos.”

Parce que, nous sommes en some other continuum.

You can live in the past, photograph,
somewhere, not here/here, but some other continuum.

On the bus, swirl affinities, colors, television personalities,
kultur idolatries, propre peoples of some other continuum.

                     et tu

“Hi, hello. And how are you?”

Because I do like something about you. 




Ode to the Mediatheque. (The Librarian's Lament)

“As a book acquires its pages,
it waits, progressively stacked together,
until the author staples and ships.
The designer takes the book’s pages,
it waits, it’s given different Chip Kidd clothing,
until it is sent, properly kerned, to the publisher.
Publisher orders thousands of the book’s clothing and pages,
it waits, it’s dispersed, it’s reviewed, it’s remaindered,
and it’s sold and shipped to us.
We acquire the book and all its pages and kerning and clothing,
it waits, stacked underneath its brethren,
until a mussy graduate student opens it.
The muss acquires its pages,
it waits, it delves into the subconscious of the muss,
until a conversation with someone attractive
causes it to dislodge over a flute of Prosecco.

I am a librarian; this is what I do.”


F/S 


Down
An
Alley
  I
See
Someone
Land
The
Front
Flip
   I
Always
Tried
   9
Years
Previous,
Far
From
French
Canada.
When
I See
The
Concrete
Here
Burdened
And
Blackened
From
Waxing
I
Do
Not
Feel
Happy
Nor
Do
I
Feel
Sad.
I
Feel
Facts,
I
Feel
Data.

    I
  See
Graffiti:
 It Says,
“COPS ARE CRIMINALS WITH A PAYCHECK”.
And
   I
Laugh.
Because
What
 Else
 Can
   I 
Even
 Do
Now?




Regional Museums


Regional Museums 
Have Regional Artists
For Regional People
And Regional People
Have Regional Thoughts
For Regional Reasons.
They Make Regional Art
For Regional Museums
That House Regional Artists.