You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?
“Whatever names the doctors attached to our kids didn’t matter—they were all just hurt children, suffering from developmental delays, who needed our help.”
The Four Spent the Day Together, Chris Kraus
Intervals — Marielle Plaisir, The Duck; Pepe Mar, Silver Dust; Ricardo Alcaide, Liminal; Emil Lukas, #2023 Radiant; Troy Simmons, SPORE (Durchbruch Hybrid Series).
Pessimism of the intellect; Optimism of the will! Antonio Gramsci via “Il faut avoir le pessimisme de l’intelligence et l’optimisme de la volonté” Romain Rolland.
Radio AlHara TAKEOVER FOR IRAN
City of Miami, Art in Public Places, originally launched in 1967, relaunched in 2017.
Forever is composed of Nows —
’Tis not a different time,
Except for infiniteness
And latitude of home.
From this, experienced here,
Remove the dates to these,
Let months dissolve in further months,
And years exhale in years.
Without certificate or pause
Or celebrated days,
As infinite our years would be
As Anno Domini’s.
Imagine
the weeks it takes to wind
nacre over the red
seed placed at another
heart’s mantle. The mussel
become what no one
wants to:
vessel, caisson, wounded
into making us
the thing we want
to call beautiful.
Vessels, Paisley Rekdal
An overabundance of memory paralyses action, … , and encourages melancholy; deja vu is thus a ‘public pathology’ resulting from an excess of memory, a surfeit of history.
The basic structural unit of reproductive technology … is the rectangle
– Claire Bishop
O poetry, visit this house often,
imbue my life with success,
leave me not alone,
give me a wife and home.
Take this curse off
of early death and drugs,
make me a friend among peers,
lend me love, and timeliness.
Return me to the men who teach
and above all, cure the
hurts of wanting the impossible
through this suspended vacuum.
Supplication, John Wieners
Sustained by poetry, fed anew
by its fires to return from madness,
the void does not beckon as it used to.
Littered with syllables, the road does not loom
as a chasm. The hand of strangers on other
doors does not hurt, the breath of gods
does not desert, but looms large
as a dream, a prairie within our dream,
to which we return, when we need to.
Oh blessed plain, oh pointed chasm.
II Alone, John Wieners
Contrary, besieged, my self
makes me its accomplice.
I owe him, my mandatory proxy,
a borrowed happenstance,
a philosophy in place of me.
Welcome, difficult neighbor,
the patient, dying, announces,
for he is my neighbor, who
assigns the me in me eaten away.
Such is the new future no present
remembers: the fall of the regular
fall of the beat—the disaster
again. Speaking, we cause it
to appear, the gentlest want,
the same word crushed, feverish.
The disaster is beyond the pale.
Improper disaster, what have you
done? God no longer the neighbor
in this night spared. It is dark, disaster.
What a long way there is to go.
Turned Back the Disaster Comes Back, Lisa Olstein
Slow, careful, focused. Avoiding damage.
James S. A. Corey, Tiamat’s Wrath (The Expanse Book 8)
A man marooned
No longer looks for ships, imagines
Anything on the horizon.
Myself I Sing, George Oppen
In holiday clothing out of the great darkness by Clarice Jensen, 2025.