20180807

Steve Dalachinsky


TRANPORT THEN RECOVER / FLAN COMPUTER – for CP
 
ETS EEEAH  da crumble  / DOTH CRUMBLE / SACHI-NAN-BUNDI SAIGYO
DINGA DINGA ELEGANT EPIPHANY AROMA BASEMENT CINDERSCRYING
DEEP SIENNAROMA EPIPH 140 COMMERCIAL ONE CA  DI CADI/CADI BANG
SCA(L) PUULAR  CHANTILLY EYEBROW PRESSURE DEMOLITION SAINT
EVACUATION THE HARD HAT BOWELS / FORGET IT TRACK-O PARKING LOT
ROSE HILL QUICKSTOP MINI-EGG / TRANSPORT GENERAL LICENSE ETS EEEAH
EEEAH EEEEAH  EAT UP FLOWER DUNG ANDA SELF ACTUALIZED ACNE SMOKER
RUNWAY BEAM PRIVATE SCOTTY RIDER WELCOME HOUSE STRUT ORGANISM
EEEPLAH DA CRUMBLE-OP OPEN ALLEY PAIN RELEIEF
FREE PUNCTURE BARBER WALKIN REPAIR BEADING
WOUNDS REPLEAT WITH BASIL AURAS
AURORA SPLASH EXPLODE                                   COFFEE      SALAD / ARAMA 
CRUSTS CHAMPAGNE LEAK/ETC ZEN      GOLD MATERIAL WALKIN
   WALKIN FLAN COMPUTER ETS EEEAH    TABLE LEMON PIE TALK       
                      WHEEEEE                    AHHH
  WHEEEEEE–OH             WHEEEEE-OHHHHHH    CRIMPLE CRIM DA BUMBLE
                 SWEET VUE BELLE CHANCE HAULEN/TABLEAU
 
  TRANSPRT THEN RECOVER DA NEEDLE
TRANSPORT THEN RECOVER DA NEEDLE
                         QUICKLY DA ROLL-A-COINS DROPPED
    TRANSPORT THEN RECOVER DA NEEDLE  
                          FAST BISTEC SMOOTHIE
DEEP SIENNA/ROMA BREATHE THE PUULAH SCHTOKRUUUPER
      ETS  EEEAH DA CRUMBLE / EEEPLAH DA OPEN ALLEY PAIN
                        SPLEEENLA  DAT  BOWEL RELIEVIN BLATHER ORT
 

nyc a walk down 28thst to Bellevue 5/18 & at home 7/18/18



dog of convenience 

it is a dog of convenience 
a matter of biscuit
illogic eso-phocus 
the way trumpets tomb
it is lost
escape bloat
the times bundle
refilled
& why not?

it’s a session that seceded from shelf
toward the sticky hanky
the panky of risk 
why then one flood after a brother
when neither saw the difference 
scumming?
 
this is not 
usual 
loss is within the epi-cretion 
the tube
shackled to the safety pin

the flood has trapped 9 boys 
within the darkness of its concavity
i handle it like brilliance & wonder why
miles of sleuthing have come to this

this was spy-power
camera back when peace was alluded to 
peace moving on toward attic
garage of bowls 
a template of shark amazons
it was the final score 
& the film dissolved 
within a whacky mirror
of yogic islands

we went where Hollywood told us to go
& the process kept repeating itself
 & repeating itself
though it never seemed to resolve 
its own meager practice

indeed the camera kept
recording nothing 
because within its own lens
another stiff hero made
a journey around the world & back 
tormented by harpies & 
illegitimate family
broken cracked & crushed 
along another avenue 
where queer things always happened
between bardic realms of 
whatchamacallit 
lunch hour & because of…

& then as always
9 children were given life
by the light on the helmets of 
the forecasters
& the cave was drained 
& filled again 
& 9 children were drown 
within the light of this media rush
& again moving on
another piece of shifting angles 
caused the shutter to flood
& there stood nothing
except a precipice 
of shattered unknowing

& the 9 children were kidnapped
yet their souls remained intact
9 drown souls remained intact
& the dog of convenience 
barked bartered & chased its tail
angling its way into neverland
bound for gag 

& the bland paid on

& the ladder
was reduced
to
a foot stool.

                             7/3/18 nyc  


my burroughs compendium 1

a bare room with long tables: sleazy cabins all around the lake, taverns, juke-boxes, drunks, motor boats oil slicks, dead fish. naked leper with a hard-on. it is a long trip. we are the only riders. so that is how we have come to know each other so well. the whole town is a fraud. a monstrous parody of a small town. the old writer lived in a boxcar by the river. the Portuguese mooch came and sat down with Lee. I was working the hole with the sailor and we did not do bad. “some of them didn’t get nothing”. the thoughts of youth are long,long thoughts. the camera is the eye of a cruising vulture…dogs bark, chickens cackle, a boy on the roof makes a jack-off gesture as the camera sails past. listen to my last words anywhere. listen to my last words any world. here is a nostalgic reconstruction. this is my creation. all I can do. all I have to do. “You need the service.” END OF A WAR GAME.
the universal betrayal has swamped the earth the most ordinary scenes covering the planet in a smog of fear there’ s a long long trail awinding… you are an animal you are a body whatever you may be you are not an “animal” you are not a “body” because these are verbal labels. and here strategy and replacements are formally arranged. LANGUAGE IS A VIRUS…glass blizzards thru the rusty limestone streets exploded flesh from the laughing bones. spattering blood cross urine of walls sex wave orgies sweep the world…horses paw the ground ; dogs howl his consciousness with the mass emission brain waves can produce far reaching effects. you become a narcotics addict because you do not have strong motivations in any other direction. with minimal equipment you can do the same thing on a wider scale you can cut the mutter line of the mass media and put the mutter line out in the streets…prepare cut/ups of the ugliest reactionary statements you can find set up an area for travelling performers, jugglers animal acts, snake charmers, singers musicians… in empty places where cat was… cat is part of me… what is grief the immediate look at a cat calendar. empty afternoon…
“Kill all niggers, spics, dagos, queers and Jews”… In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality. It is as final as the mountains. a fact. there it is. when you realize it, you cannot complain. the lake is stocked with large mouth bass.
life such as it goes on. I am the cat who walks alone. the distance from here to there is the measure of what I’ve learned.

could laugh tapes, sneeze tapes, hiccough tapes, cough tapes give rise to
laughing, sneezing, hiccoughing, coughing? There is a change…. can I get it all straight?

remember the only image a virus has is the image and soundtrack it can impose on you - the yellow eyes of jaundice – the pustules of smallpox –
convulsions exhaustion and death….the shallow water came in with the tide
and being blind may not refuse to hear mud shells and frogs croaking, licking the gristle asleep with other flesh … like a high school play attempting to convey a spectral atmosphere…
write here right now. cut-ups are for everyone. everybody can make cut-up. experimentally… it is something to do. the more you run the tapes through and cut them up the less power they will have. cut the pre-recordings into air into thin air. word authority more powerful thn heroin. a final glossary cannot be made up of words whose intentions are fugitive.

Full length now – that’s right – line down now – bend over – what is word - male spirits trapped in dead nitrous flesh – the eyes converged in a single beam – the viscera exploded in vomit – word falling - photo falling – time falling – love falling – flesh falling – image falling – death needs time for what it kills to grow in -
please imagine an explosion on a SHIP … freash southerly winds a long time ago…a vast Muslim muttering rises from the stone square where brass statues suffocate > all the living and the dead – You are yourself
here lived a stupid vulgar son of a bitch who thought he could hire DEATH as a company cop ….

so it’s all mental? all in your head? or is it?” a frozen moment when everyone sees what is at the end of your fork. OUT SIDE >>> OUTSIDE it’s COLD where the dross eaters and needle boys won’t last 2 years ..not six months won’t last
AND WE NEVER EAT IT NEVER NEVER NEVER EAT IT… sharp reek of diseased metal… a heaving sea of air hammers in the purple brown dusk…yellow halos of carbide lanterns…broken pipes exposed.

come out of the time word “the” forever
come out of the body word “thee” forever. there is nothing to fear
there is no thing in space. and the idiot irresponsibles scream:
“come out of your stupid bodies you nameless assholes.”
“hurry up please. it’s time.” there is no place else to go. The theater is closed.”
we are the cats inside. we are the cats who cannot walk alone. and for us there is only one place.
He bows three times and disappears into the gathering dusk. dim jerky stars are blowing away across a gleaming empty sky, the wild boys smile. The sky darkens and goes out. The way OUT is the way IN. The players go on with the game.



the fires of lust / a summary
for neeli cherkovski
 
we most often don't need 
the things 
we think we need
chariots hitched & ready
to fly
clementines / hay rides
fences 
supporting arrows
that point to churches 
where birds
flew
 
he said you were 
observatory
dome
ersatz ownliness
planet &
planetarium
universal catalyst 
contemporary
lost poem & even worse
lost poet(s)
humankind
(ness)
datebooks & JAZZ
trees twisted & bending 
toward the highway
 
KEEP KALM
 
listen punk/pink gateway
on the air
thin   /  normal 
brew room 
digging the coffee &
tea
crumblike 
filled with crumble 
relesing the SANGHA into 
the streets
congo-hum creator
fast track pre-ensemble
CANCER
 
we are needy dreamers 
of PrImE  /  sleepers
  landscape bloodrain buddha break/fasts
     drowning in hotcakes / destroying our
                          EGOS
       for the sake of our egos
           
                 oh phuckit
 
circling birds / great sharp wings
  grey booms above our heads
      picking up all our desires
 
why  in fact  
                     do we have so many desires?
the air of DESIRE...
                                 tho we can't own the tune
     tho we can never own the tune 
              we somehow manage to possess IT
                                       
                                        *
 the afternoon
      the swooning 3/4 moon
      floating above the
                   san francisco 
                           MINT............ the homeless concert....O
 
san francisco / car ride 4/27/18




 
 
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