p_L -Ac---------------Esssssssssssssssssfa

Hommage a Joseph Beuys
Mieczyslaw Górowski
pick'd from

and this from outdoor line link

Ausstellungen 2001
Hommage à Joseph Beuys
Ein bibliothekarischer Streifzug zum 80. Geburtstag
17. August bis 10. Oktober 2001



this is from an other incompleate

series of verse
this was writ. some months
back: back!

I cant remember guff in the truck when you
can you see it, the red weir. O my ruche O
my fuck in fiddle fawn, O how can he ride
thus? a backing break ridge to my cut purse
sally. Whither is the castle cow? against spur
support your hair? my braid is thence a tease
to rake your solemn oath. Oak and breast

She dinneth me in green leisure. Sodometries
of tom-tom boy and her hand slam down of
ward to his thinker into his upback. Shall
pray this mouth to arm yuletide to measure

He finds her mirror ormomlu in double
mouthed bowsprit to mouth in young arm man
robin to mouth jug jug it hankering. Ringlet



I know flew from green and arm rest
I know the catch you into bed and the off
town blue
I know the great Countesse from the pen
I know the avenue from the chair
I know fording when it's all done
I know Latin and Greek if I remember
I am your feet and hands leman & lung

I know collide eye to strong wit and
I know cast choir is far from fair desman
I know eyed water is sealed repent by heart
I know garment and detail garb and grow

eric satie

eric satie piano master happy hat
poor as a church mouse
but music leaked from him
like what? like clouds do over a sky way
or clubs springing

round or around their


One thinks of Ubu roi as well.

Gnossienne No. 4
The four music sheets below are the original manuscripts of Gnossienne No. 4, composed on January 22, 1891. As you will notice, this piano piece is untitled.
Robert Caby arranged it in 1967 as the fourth Gnossienne, published by Ed. Salabert, Paris, the year after.
Original location: Biblioteque National, Paris, Ms 10051 (2).


note on over that

re do 'Over That'

re do?



well, then a desiring machine is not a washing machine

precisely. so keep your cords up, and yer washing out.

ghosts afore breaky are , what shall we see,
wanting "le multiple" ends the subjective.

do you love me?
always, tousjours,
like un linge.

like a clothesline



tiny collage of 'swept away' the film of lina wertmuller

of this and other blue navies
let me see the heart of death and its bread
was telling "Dino" a friend of mine about this
not too long ago.

way back in the 70's 78, to be precise
movies like this gave
an electric charge
like your arms


because you are ill _ O Moth

still doing onthis one.
because you are sick I pray
because of bones because of your bones
because bones bones matter Bones, Doctor Bones,
because Bones you wanted on the front deck,
because bones of bones, can these bones live?
can these sticks and stones
hurt your

because you are ill
because because you are will
power embodied your heart will fare through
this impasses of life &
death because the heart is a jimmy shaker

because Moth you are delicate as the swoon
because of this


this lover

this lover
this lover
this lover lover

this lover does walk
this lover does walk
does walk
she walks to the store
she walks to the store
she walks to the sortie
she walk to the sortie
she walk to the sortie
she walk to the store
she walk to the store
the store the sortie
to the store
she walk the story
she walk
she want the story
she do she do she
she walk


of the[e] night later


r you reading?

yes, that?

hhm yeah, arms encas'd aroun d red

like kathy acker


you|this is outdated dig

you did this, yes, you did you split the world up like that, over
there the ones dying

you made it that way.

you wanted it this way. you chose, its what you wanted, what you always wanted,it was easier that way, that way,
you could play martyr

you could play hidden one.

its your world that does that, each electirc element's a liar.

this is your war your poverty
your rule

and banner

dont silence| and after

dont silence your

dont as you know its twined hair 's grown death.
along Beaumont the night was a ragged weed. not a meander
of youth. you could have seen this before.

now its dashed in dirt durst notthe gallant stead of steed
he rode for hell its night lash

stop.here. go . again. breath air in. move negative powers out.
Calls inthe goddess
stops airplanes of death.

not its walk across bodies forlorn.

your mouth wide open

've broken him.

perhaps the words written on the pages were you,
were they you?? yelling at me like that as you took someone else,
never wanting to be there, to be nothing more than a washing machine
automated death
which stoppered up with
your body

you had no power over it.so betrayed me. a me y ou created
with your killing heart.

go away

go away

dont come here
rid yerself

of this apocalypse you betrayed


after the motorcycle accident

my head spinning

I couldnt talk about it

chalking death


automatic words on the page
on the screen

writing me in this

the road stopped cambering


haunted ghosts before breakfast Hans richter's SiLent Movie

haunted ghosts before breakfast,

yes yes yes
but what about after breakfast?

whence gratification?


how can it be call silent if there is music?
what is silent bout music its the noisy thing in town

this winter when doing the studio recordings with
the new Nietzsche's Daughter I did discover silence

between pages of books
and Angela 's voice
some rapture in the style of her voice

hard to come

but haunted ghost voice


parole peurparler

all my poems

all my work's on parole

on parlant