(raw text from a reading given at Chase Public Library in Northside, Cincinnati . . using material collaged from walking and talking and taking photos within a few blocks of the venue. Sound by cris cris, image stream by cris cheek.)
busted by public spats and shat on with an abject hat on
"down, with the dabs" a documented response to a mispronounced comment about the importance of the masculinist disciplinary example set to sons by baseball dads
"i am owned by the drabs"
on the corner of Milton and Chase
where prescription toys happen
aka Hell Town (numerous historically rowdy bars)
and Happy Valley (humanimal parades of cruelty)
awake, i was consumed with desire, to make a small portrait of this place, documented right here by walks and talks instead of filtered through a machine online like a six foot tall owl, barely out of the woods pulling makeshift strings of seeds and berries from my arse
the long wind croons over
the long grass walking about
a cardinal wind indexing fields, wanting to possess impulsive rasp under lips as documented hearsay went and all that follows being found then slotted out
air sticky like molecules of sound moving between mouth and ear
that tea prised from show to the wolves and bears within range words tumble from
this plea become a poster triggering the light below
the com.com logo reading to be or not to be is no longer a question but a window onto a gateway drug near when and where the chicken lays reward
camera down construction construction construction temperature construction construction construction construction construction construction
shown street workers street temperature street
camera down construction construction construction temperature construction construction construction construction construction construction
cap down construction construction construction temperature construction construction cat construction construction construction construction
down torch down street down
wailers, out-cuss neighborhood stock usurpers at picnic and pantry with their off downtown la-di-da OTR circuitry
i'm an owner ok and i'm part of this
jumble of bones and skulls
embedded in a dark earth of document
i am incontinence of nutria
ground hog by tracks blue wicker fairy gland
tattered northsider due girth
bending a sweat and beginning to chirp
something being present enough to influence as in change the course of that situation
"i'm, down with the dabs"
come first bud we began to head down final patches of snow makeshift effigies leaking out through woken gasses
crushed cans squashed butts buckled cartons plastic domes sheared rubber foil on sidewalk gush of landscaped drains
nouvelle and novel graffitti evolved the comet
to cross street push navel a spindly
poinsettia in the window of the thunder-Sky
jump cables people help each other out kind of floss
the broken pavement a fellowship of the thing trashed out record love drinking
busted for thinking thinking
busted for talking talking
busted for walking walking
busted for trading trading
busted for grouping grouping
busted for drinking drinking
busted for deriving a tale of the anxious
chicken in a transcribed basket of pastures
owned here, listening through a ludic groove
to track the public many ways
on the corner, where prescription toys happen
quote there is no familar succession of events within the disturbed atom . . Things just 'happen as they happen,' like the loosely connected images within a poem which follow one upon the other in no particularly necessary order. unquote (Danah Zohar, The Quantum Self)
the blue bus moves away from the junction and this street's name sign is more fully revealed to be Ha! Milton, as in every hair on this dog betrays the ideal
of the commons and Ham Illtown as in porkers working
a pork-matic establishment
no turn on red rebone to this kitchen of the oral
like honey in the well of an engine from the spoons of improvement
smelled a little like my honey
fallen branches over hydrant morels from web like root of wood foraging for sale signs read against clouds whispering whiskey
bottle risen sap bot yellow plastic ball shadow on wall cut open orange pepsi chardonnay torn tow away bush
i am a river piggy flaking soot
cooked out from fleeced shadows
compost of local network sound
among red oaks covered with lichen
rot and mould love me like
the smell of the rain needs wind
i am the white man whose shadow comes over the earth and wreaks vengeance, because i can
befriend a tavern owner, subsequent tanner and judge David Cummins documented
after Scotch-Irish families moving west out of Virginia in Kentucky and southern Ohio and Indiana, there are copious records of self-aggrandizement
scratched with coins on the song walls of dearth
by a taxidermed birdy with a wire through its heart
showing Cummins' and Cummings' serving revolutionary militias in Virginia giving rise to generative memes, John 1, John 2, John 3 who along with Davids and Mathews "that's all, guys!" brought core biblical naming lines into the Ohio river valley
i sit in the giant's yoghurt pot to bathe my wounds
an ambitiously bad breeding-related
geographical joke lurking, behind each twee
tweets, barely out of the woods, delineated
papers on pathways in front of houses splintered posts
fences, matchsticks, coughs plastic bags in tree branches
potable rest rooms on the verge of something
or another's old brick alleys
kids imitating the calls of geese overhead
if i drop my phone in the waters there where puddle melted paddle melted ducks on river bank trains follow streams escape from trails past freedom grove
marsh marigold knap weed butterfly weed sweet
clover iron weed viburnam weed canned smell pollution in the water of the profit seeking to make every living ting work under me
i am a footprint in the mud
mood mud that is not even mined moo
Cumminsville, a small settlement at an intersection of trails for walking peoples in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century surveyed by Israel Ludlow
early settlers usurped and renamed "indian" trails after colonizing would-be rapacious bastard generals such as Anthony Wayne who went to war against walking peoples on behalf of expansionist settlers
i am a dog off the leash interested in reflection that i didn't think i am a dog on a leash at first but i am, on a leash
i cannot help that footprint that i am
whistled at by distant trains
trails rebranded to overlay flows, to stem other
flows, to put a monstrous name on the land to slam it
to emphasize insignificance and mere as in just a short while right, just tempted and submitting to temptation right for a mere second to borrow undiluted time and hold it right, to possess it like not to trust in fellowship in those merely borrowed seconds but follow need then force its need to follow him like
so, Boromir is an interesting dude right, who symbolizes temptation, right, the right to temptation right, the right to take the bait that capitalism offers like a taint right, that hung out golden ring near the river breaking away from fellowship and common cause right to reach right outside community and take his little piece of seductive flickering light, to literally in his enfeebled mind at that point borrow a little bit, just for one microsecond, a digital increment of interest in the scrying eye of a trading mind like putting that sense of the mere to work
with squirrels pissing through
"my god is an awe-some god!"
a gift of sheathed speaking
rendered removable domes to keep the horn
sailing the capes and e-scapes of imagination
and ran down screaming onto the hippodrome track
a native baby elephant taking stock
we are all shagbark hickory americans, isn't that a white oak provocative thing to hackberry say both a potentially full spectrum dominant colonializing of the entire black cherry planet dependent on how emphatic your view of that slippery elm pronoun becomes
and a brutal bitternut hickory history, in many ways overlaid with extraordinary blue ash generosity, ambition and invention, the whole again held in terrifying tension by climax vegetation
and the black walnut sense in which anybody who decides they want to come and make their sugar maple life here becomes a part of this backyard motor helps to expand and lend credence to the motivational dreams of sharable value
we pissed in the water and poisoned the well,
then enslaved each other to a feudal ideal
(sing it) "IM, down, with the stock as a gag"
material form engines became more spoken like
allows glass allows effortlessly allows aphysical
shadows of crows across flag
foot splash in muddy puddle
the continual oppression of living under these names
chase river metals, milk chambers egg on robinson
for coconut refund season hamilton and wayne
having nothing to do with the quality of a place or perception so much as a monumentalizing of patriarchs and the big boy cups no outlet
and the little boy no humor
ducks frame bank trains follow streams and beasts
along trails past shackles, evidence of
Orajel maximum instant pain relief
packaging perhaps in a sacrificial position
to a Stonehenge of cigarruption butts in the planter
a 50c off offer "puts the south in your mouth"
in the blender of hope where back room walk-ins are welcome and out of pocket costs are guaranteed
in many ways it really is a new season of the witch
in which to build and own your toy today
and maybe as welcoming and threatening as build a toy to own today
and build a toy of your own in that sense
of exclusionary propriety
i do not live in terror unlike so many i can eat
the english muffin in the fox toasted
i trade in bread and rubbers and plastic i mend shit
i am a pioneer distiller, one of the bricks of ohio
i was dug under the supervision of sporting proclivities
catty corner from mr bacon versus monsieur tofu captain corn dog versus baron von broccoli duking it out to top the food chain are all these self-identified male figures, fuck that jungle
like a line to make a night deposit at the figgy bank
from the spoons of improvement
my name is dolly and i'm a big brown dribbling
labrador wearing a green bandana
i am a lost dark cat, that was left out all night
singing "don't, stop . thinking
a deer leaps out between empty houses
stamps and snorts on the property for sale
romaincrisis
dededos
blakekathryn
germansingergirl
turnnoffyourmind
andulkaphoto