Steve Dalachinsky

more extant fragments & (w)holes

the secret of life – “the local is universal. upon that all art is built” – w.c.w.

the secret of life has been revealed:                 DON’T BE YOURSELF
i told the woman who offered me a seat – it’s a standing rule – i don’t accept seats from women unless i’m really really tired – i will tell you all you need to know – listen – total silence – then one woman in the row opposite starts to cough violently – in front of me interiority – the notion of progress – images rather than movement – before the (pr)event of where the action would never take place – vertically or horizontally > as with irradiated stars > redoes the body as old now & contradicting its own attachments (it’s self) that kill you while keeping you alive > immune to the ravages > the savages who can’t sleep anymore / scarcely note the flippant intruders / i don’t believe in conspiracies unless they’ve been proven / free men once slaves / once free men then free (slaves) again / coexistence bagel shop > watch face meat eat rule cucumbers > the luxury of suffering & suffering of luxury but rather than simply listing it’s about stringing the words together how they are strung into > grated into the piece to form “sentences” > therefore the shopping list becomes (in one) an organic entity rather than a stiff reminder > age – many people probably know or guess my age > i really don’t know how to be a blind person /tho i certainly can be an incumbrance / a near dead re-animated wall (meta) > scattershot punchy / pared down / simple but not simple / infra-structure yet sophisticated > it’s as if one never prepares oneself for distractions > what makes this work is the mix / the openness / @ the pool today or near my covers or anything in my vision: he’s a poet. she’s a poet. those are raindrops >
one fast move & i’m gone.

               2016. put together from many different fragments

there is a dance the feet do
the skeye hi sneaking around of the dust
brow lamenting sleepers peeking @ their screens
adrift & devoid of thank yous beyond help & point times
the drugs are in their groans
& in their moans & in their bones
every bending joint elbowing unseen pain
we are these shopping bags full with hebrews & muslims
mexicans gun barrels & changing laws –
patriots to a boil log lanced
& littered here sense the blue hat
as it sits a body within a bright orange alert
bent eyes floating within the dancing screen

his rice & beans make even these filthy tiles smell sweet.

               4/8/16 delancey st subway stop

green stop stop hat 
foreign properties extinct and drinking habits 
clam up it’s a game of inches prior(ities) even foreign logicos
the kids chicken out & my life’s become a dry season 
as i sit in front of a door that perpetually opens
& the lightweights & milk-toasts
soak in the room sweat the days last cool marooned  private(s)
of a dissipated jaunt 
gang the hails all here &
it ain’t even wanter yet…
    & me 
      but not high
                    & in needs of 

so when they changed our names 
they changed our identities
arabs has all that
i saw him wasted away     is he has no color
because the blood flowed thru their skin (JEWS)
even if their sweatshirts said NEW YORK on them.


it’s never too late (too early) to talk time fed & the names we assign to drawers i forgot my family in the pits a freeze held until spring thaw a direct line to untied shoes she’s singing to no one in toshi’s window the decisions one makes went speaking to the issues both personal & universal performance/performative remediation / documentation live versus recorded the one is very alive when doing a recording like now she sing to no one through the window.                2016

i read she comes gets string from ribbon / painting or book with almond pinky i’m missing on her right hand these are stories that hold together within different durations how future present past emerge then merge unaggressive peaceful creativity drawing redefined – process of individual situation truthfulness of gesture the banks of the lake / space / breath past present future present past past memory present a line that can become mood thru space                2015 (for e.b.)

taxonomy > good part of sound we don’t hear even as it reaches (out year) our ear so listen more deeply closely listening process is in the middle of the compositional process experience of duration the voices (of mango) mingle mesh (FM around a T) ephemerality vs. concretism > what i feel prevails in ko’s music ghosts in SK HD studio process becomes a revelation almost everything relies consciously or unconsciously on appropriation in turn how that translates becomes in itself revelatory – reflective windows rather than mirrors for one to see into
as well as out of control over the instruments is a generalization
rubinomics (quarter) order of sound pierre schaeffer music concrete why does one(s) sound work & another sound doesn’t “sound as(that pew) pure experience (porn) or music experience” sound object vs. musical object > invent what you listen to > little recognizable sounds the mouth a grotesquery sublime sound as object with missing teeth to be(come) the music > the thing you fetishize > fear of looking into mirror > choice in (or) chance / the art of creation involves revelation rather than impose of theory to discover for oneself & share this revelation with the audience
ghostly mirror images > to question this work one must stand outside of it
but listen from the inside > contradictions pictures of light
cultures (mashing) meshing not clashing > evoking one musical (idiot) idiom /
within its many voices \ JAZZ / (Wall) being in the foreground yet as if (shocked) shot with a soft focus lens > syntax / (what is happening ((boat)) both inside & outside) / a synthesis but not synthetic… the space of out of focus/ in focus\ close-ups creating environments for the listener / building a new architecture within the
frame(work) | car | (Jerome) drum | ruthlessly sweet & innocent

more in sights:
                                i cut both ears while shaving
                                                   a sign of martyrdom — i think >
                                                         the blood slowly quietly 
                               flows down my earlobes 
 along with loose & broken teeth
  it’s so liberating doing what you (know) never do
                     bradley says.   

awards quality

as unrestricted contra
1836 the siding(s)
awards quality of tone       excellence of construction
marshall albany mendel new york three parts repentance
gershwin special reinforced bell
metal plate (reputation)
a river awash with brackets & easy in light time
as hell is captured am & laundered notes askew
welcome to the jazz corner of the world
sunset as (W) cited red against the clouds near sunset
as on restricted contraband greenwards of mexico
the music absolute purity of tone
player piano —
the materials used in this
thoroughly tested are guaranteed forever else forever excellent
to please lovers into last forever

& she tenderly pulls are lover’s head to her lips
& kisses him gently on his neck
as the barrelhouse C stiffices its tears


recovering relay here last piece for yoko
holes punched in by hand 47-90 (stroke)
very handsome son tenacity vision
moving carriage thru 88 notes
& the harpsichord removes any doubts
as once again our endless tour
it is completed with a sneeze.

               conlin nancarrow exhibit @ the whitney museum 2015

Poet/collagist Steve Dalachinsky was born in Brooklyn after the last big war and has managed to survive lots of little wars. His book The Final Nite (Ugly Duckling Presse) won the PEN Oakland National Book Award. His most recent books are Fools Gold (2014 feral press), a superintendent's eyes (revised and expanded 2013 - unbearable/ autonomedia) and flying home, a collaboration with German visual artist Sig Bang Schmidt (Paris Lit Up Press 2015). His latest cd is The Fallout of Dreams with Dave Liebman and Richie Beirach (Roguart 2014). His poem “Particle Fever” was nominated for a 2015 Pushcart Prize. Forthcoming from Overpass Press The Invisible Ray, with artwork by Shalom Neuman.
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