Gareth Morgan
POEM
hisroty poem
little bastard poem
the least chop chop ever poem
writing without clarity forever contra john darnielle poem
fever poem
five-eva poem
pencil case poem
aged wagu poem
i had a bad dream i think poem
nathaniel hawthorn dropout poem
insincere response to psychadelia poem
rewilding t shirt poem
pickled destiny t shirt poem
liquidity poem
restrained australian username poem
restrained australian poem
berlin secret mushroom documentary poem
incredible illegible font poem
sky poem
tim winchin poem
a tim minchin for the people poem
it's a sneakerhead thang poem
new interesting tree ideas poem
plastic bag recession poem
replacement poem
pompom poem
ambient culture poem
cultural dynamism poem
masterchef poem
ubiquitous computing ubiquitous listening poem
ubiquitous reading poem
end of the workday fizzy affect non-ubiquitous intensity listening poem
ishka one of a kind ottoman poem
DIY poem
hornbag poem
sort of back pain poem
untitled fermented bean paste poem
the map poem and the territory poem
a possible future for entertainment poem
look how a master does it poem
barbecue babe poem
apotropaic disco poem
subwoofer poem
5:30am fence lean poem
zero sum something poem
floating somewhere less disappointing poem
lonely planet baseball cap do my hair poem
tiny muji hut with tiny birds in a tiny landscape poem
singing free jazz downtime poem
crisis is an opportunity poem
unique ishka ottoman get poem
45 min poem
liquidity liquidity poem
ambient house poem
watching ‘Slacker’ (1991) poem
outback steakhouse poem
the conception of luxury maybe evolving poem
sharehouse grrl poem
fila oatmeal poem
fila deconstruction poem
stimulus package hearteyes poem
give me a stimulus package to sing from the mountaintops about poem
mountaintops poem
it’s not a stimulus package its a poem poem
flat country poem
flat earth poem
giant drop poem
labour poem
thick density poem
bringing the world to you since 1971 poem
the hand as a filing cabinet, after maria lassnig poem
busking bottle’o sublime poem
mouth watering at the sound of “chili eating competition” poem
not another online poem
faraway poem
deskjob poem
harry reid poem
snail mail poem
my gothic career poem
snail shell poem
toy poem
market excess poem
big in britches poem
surplus lives matter poem
capital is dead poem
is it poem
NEW SINCERITY WAS HERE
you want john cage?
or john cage bubble gum?
or a punk telling you he's "done"
or "a fucking cunt". we're
in a bloody landscape all the bloody time!
eating a bloody les murray ham samwich
“for the weird unemployment”
but poetry like banking is a way of printing money
when i read lyn hejinian's "Rejection of Closure"
i spied a rat’s rabid appetite for cash, an epic eternal savings acc.
and from then on strove to become one, a terrible rodent
“for the moment, for the writer, the poem is the mind”
not a bottle of wine! i practically spat. i had decided. the poem
in fact, would be made of my surplus labour: i would find it all
and give it back to you. as a blog i was reading
funded by the ANZ, tells me John Kenneth Galbraith said:
"one cannot defend production as satisfying wants
if that production creates the wants"— well!
poetry's all right when arguing with economists
like a bubble-o-bill, or a hatstand
it appears like a comic book
a joe brainard drawing, for example
simply flies by the wayside. and so i say today it is a way of printing money
like stealing a dollar from the till for a
donut. how do you replace the dollar?
with a poem. you want muck, i know you do—
in the bedroom. and flowers on the porch
and an american landscape to sing you to sleep.
in a landscape you find pure information, among other things
gnats, sandwiches… do you want the sonata version?
or a lemon, or black rot. a poem made from surplus labour……
what that means we don't know, but hope to succumb to some
understanding some day, as in a science lab we might
succumb to a miracle in spiders' eggs
or just plain spiders. we might think of mary
succumbing to the archangel, her baby like a poem
it would be some small consolation for a life of hard, idiotic, stolen work
and no matter how much money you have
the poem will not bounce. and we still
want it. so take a dollar!
the bubblegum is on sale
Gareth Morgan is a poet and a postman in Melbourne where he also runs a reading series / journal called Sick Leave.
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POEM
hisroty poem
little bastard poem
the least chop chop ever poem
writing without clarity forever contra john darnielle poem
fever poem
five-eva poem
pencil case poem
aged wagu poem
i had a bad dream i think poem
nathaniel hawthorn dropout poem
insincere response to psychadelia poem
rewilding t shirt poem
pickled destiny t shirt poem
liquidity poem
restrained australian username poem
restrained australian poem
berlin secret mushroom documentary poem
incredible illegible font poem
sky poem
tim winchin poem
a tim minchin for the people poem
it's a sneakerhead thang poem
new interesting tree ideas poem
plastic bag recession poem
replacement poem
pompom poem
ambient culture poem
cultural dynamism poem
masterchef poem
ubiquitous computing ubiquitous listening poem
ubiquitous reading poem
end of the workday fizzy affect non-ubiquitous intensity listening poem
ishka one of a kind ottoman poem
DIY poem
hornbag poem
sort of back pain poem
untitled fermented bean paste poem
the map poem and the territory poem
a possible future for entertainment poem
look how a master does it poem
barbecue babe poem
apotropaic disco poem
subwoofer poem
5:30am fence lean poem
zero sum something poem
floating somewhere less disappointing poem
lonely planet baseball cap do my hair poem
tiny muji hut with tiny birds in a tiny landscape poem
singing free jazz downtime poem
crisis is an opportunity poem
unique ishka ottoman get poem
45 min poem
liquidity liquidity poem
ambient house poem
watching ‘Slacker’ (1991) poem
outback steakhouse poem
the conception of luxury maybe evolving poem
sharehouse grrl poem
fila oatmeal poem
fila deconstruction poem
stimulus package hearteyes poem
give me a stimulus package to sing from the mountaintops about poem
mountaintops poem
it’s not a stimulus package its a poem poem
flat country poem
flat earth poem
giant drop poem
labour poem
thick density poem
bringing the world to you since 1971 poem
the hand as a filing cabinet, after maria lassnig poem
busking bottle’o sublime poem
mouth watering at the sound of “chili eating competition” poem
not another online poem
faraway poem
deskjob poem
harry reid poem
snail mail poem
my gothic career poem
snail shell poem
toy poem
market excess poem
big in britches poem
surplus lives matter poem
capital is dead poem
is it poem
NEW SINCERITY WAS HERE
you want john cage?
or john cage bubble gum?
or a punk telling you he's "done"
or "a fucking cunt". we're
in a bloody landscape all the bloody time!
eating a bloody les murray ham samwich
“for the weird unemployment”
but poetry like banking is a way of printing money
when i read lyn hejinian's "Rejection of Closure"
i spied a rat’s rabid appetite for cash, an epic eternal savings acc.
and from then on strove to become one, a terrible rodent
“for the moment, for the writer, the poem is the mind”
not a bottle of wine! i practically spat. i had decided. the poem
in fact, would be made of my surplus labour: i would find it all
and give it back to you. as a blog i was reading
funded by the ANZ, tells me John Kenneth Galbraith said:
"one cannot defend production as satisfying wants
if that production creates the wants"— well!
poetry's all right when arguing with economists
like a bubble-o-bill, or a hatstand
it appears like a comic book
a joe brainard drawing, for example
simply flies by the wayside. and so i say today it is a way of printing money
like stealing a dollar from the till for a
donut. how do you replace the dollar?
with a poem. you want muck, i know you do—
in the bedroom. and flowers on the porch
and an american landscape to sing you to sleep.
in a landscape you find pure information, among other things
gnats, sandwiches… do you want the sonata version?
or a lemon, or black rot. a poem made from surplus labour……
what that means we don't know, but hope to succumb to some
understanding some day, as in a science lab we might
succumb to a miracle in spiders' eggs
or just plain spiders. we might think of mary
succumbing to the archangel, her baby like a poem
it would be some small consolation for a life of hard, idiotic, stolen work
and no matter how much money you have
the poem will not bounce. and we still
want it. so take a dollar!
the bubblegum is on sale
Gareth Morgan is a poet and a postman in Melbourne where he also runs a reading series / journal called Sick Leave.
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