thin pilot - poetry distribution

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[moontempleuniverse]

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"Sunday 20 July 1960, Dear Son, I'm afraid you wont like my letter because I only have sad news for you right now. I really dont know how to tell you this but Brace up Honey. I'm going through hell myself. Little Tyke is gone. Saturday all day he was fine and seemed to pick up strength, but late at night I was watching TV a late movie. Just about 1: 30 A. M. when he started belching and throwing up. I went to him and tried to fix him up but to no availe. He was shivering like he was cold so I rapped him up in a Blanket then he started to throw up all over me. And that was the last of him. Needless to say how I feel and what I went through. I stayed up till "day Break" and did all I could to revive him but it was useless. I realized at 4 A. M. he was gone so at six I wrapped him up good in a clean blanket -- and at 7 A. M. went out to dig his grave. I never did anything in my whole life so heart breaking as to bury my beloved little Tyke who was as human as you and I. I buried him under the Honeysuckle vines, the corner, of the fence. I just cant sleep or eat. I keep looking and hoping to see him come through the cellar door calling Ma Wow. I'm just plain sick and the weirdest thing happened when I buried Tyke, all the black Birds I fed all Winter seemed to have known what was going on. Honest Son this is no lies. There was lots and lots of em flying over my head and chirping, and settling on the fence, for a whole hour after Tyke was laid to rest -- that's something I'll never forget -- I wish I had a camera at the time but God and Me knows it and saw it. Now Honey I know this is going to hurt you but I had to tell you somehow... I'm so sick not physically but heart sick... I just cant believe or realize that my Beautiful little Tyke is no more -- and that I wont be seeing him come through his little "Shanty" or Walking through the green grass ... PS. I've got to dismantle Tyke's shanty, I just cant go out there and see it empty -- as is. Well Honey, write soon again and be kind to yourself. Pray the real "God" -- Your old Mom XXXXXX. "

[elladrondeperas]

[printingtheinternet-blog]

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[deadpanaesthetic]

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Jenny Holzer, Truisms. Featuring a section from Wisława Szymborska's "Children of our Age"

[ratrapss]

I wore a thing for the Safety Pin Review

Here is James Tadd Adcox’s “Scientific Method"

find the rest here

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Doing wonderful things with poetry you can wear, poetry you can take to public places and share with whoever wants to look at you.

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"The Trumpet-Part" by Paul Celan (trans. A. S. Kline)

The Trumpet-Part deep in the glowing Text-Void at Torch-Height, in the Time-Hole: listen in with your Mouth.

[uutpoetry]

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"Sweet god, poetry hates Boston." - Jack Spicer

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"You Are Not Who They Wanted You to Be" by Wendy Xu

But after years enough alone, even the wicked sleep. Clematis in a window-box creeping the house, one thing overtakes the next but is forgiven. I name everything in the sky Jupiter and you, its moon claiming a synchronized orbit. No time for specifics, no proof thar we have ever met. Your irregular thought patterns are seen by a doctor, but when the actual untelevised apocalypse comes I don't want to be ready, a capsized tugboat blinking in the harbor is how you'll know I stayed. No advantage now to buying in bulk. The isolated incidents of suburban shovel crime in this neighborhood mean it's OK to ask for help. Your courage changes the world. Your right hand choking bottles like a songbird; sometimes hopelessness is a lie feeding your sparrows in the dusk.

[leorasf]

[annececeliaholmes-deactivated20]

Dara Wier reads “Not a Verbal Equivalent" from her new book, You Good Thing, and explodes our hearts forever.

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from "Jubilate Agno" by Christopher Smart

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry. For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him. For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way. For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness. For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer. For he rolls upon prank to work it in. For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself. For this he performs in ten degrees. For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean. For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there. For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended. For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood. For fifthly he washes himself. For sixthly he rolls upon wash. For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat. For eighthly he rubs himself against a post. For ninthly he looks up for his instructions. For tenthly he goes in quest of food. For having consider'd God and himself he will consider his neighbour. For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness. For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance. For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying. For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins. For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary. For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes. For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life. For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him. For he is of the tribe of Tiger. For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger. For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses. For he will not do destruction, if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation. For he purrs in thankfulness, when God tells him he's a good Cat. For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon. For every house is incomplete without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit. For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt. For every family had one cat at least in the bag. For the English Cats are the best in Europe. For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped. For the dexterity of his defence is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly. For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature. For he is tenacious of his point. For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery. For he knows that God is his Saviour. For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest. For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion. For he is of the Lord's poor and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually--Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat. For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better. For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat. For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music. For he is docile and can learn certain things. For he can set up with gravity which is patience upon approbation. For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment. For he can jump over a stick which is patience upon proof positive. For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command. For he can jump from an eminence into his master's bosom. For he can catch the cork and toss it again. For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser. For the former is afraid of detection. For the latter refuses the charge. For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business. For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly. For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services. For he killed the Ichneumon-rat very pernicious by land. For his ears are so acute that they sting again. For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention. For by stroking of him I have found out electricity. For I perceived God's light about him both wax and fire. For the Electrical fire is the spiritual substance, which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast. For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements. For, tho he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer. For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped. For he can tread to all the measures upon the music. For he can swim for life. For he can creep.

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"With Every Thought" by Paul Celan (trans. A. S. Kline.)

With every Thought I went out of the World: there you were, you my Gentle One, you my Open One, and – you received us. Who says that for us everything died, that for us there the Eye broke? Everything woke, all things began. Vast, a Sun came swimming by, bright a Soul and a Soul engaged, clear, masterfully made a silence for it a path ahead. Lightly you opened your Lap, quiet rose a Breath in the Aether, and what became cloud, was it not, was it not Form, and for us then, was it not as good as a Name?

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"Lion-Eating Poet in the Stone Den" by Chao Yuen Ren

In a stone den was a poet called Shi, who was a lion addict, and had resolved to eat ten lions. He often went to the market to look for lions. At ten o'clock, ten lions had just arrived at the market. At that time, Shi had just arrived at the market. He saw those ten lions, and using his trusty arrows, caused the ten lions to die. He brought the corpses of the ten lions to the stone den. The stone den was damp. He asked his servants to wipe it. After the stone den was wiped, he tried to eat those ten lions. When he ate, he realized that these ten lions were in fact ten stone lion corpses. Try to explain this matter.

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"Grasshopper" by Valimir Khlebnikov

Wingletting with the golden scrawl Of its finest sinews, The grasshopper loaded its trailer-belly With many coastal herbs and faiths. "Ping, ping, ping!" tra-lah-ed the zingzinger. O, swanderful! O, illuminate!