"My sole purpose was to record data. But the mind strays, the mind strays…The skull is not a very good cage."


Evening Will Come

does The Volta have a tumblr? their new ‘nsfw’ issue of Evening Will Come is excellent (monthly poetics journal - the word poetics used loosely, explored broadly, opening the field).
curated by Lara Glenum
Kim Vodicka near rhymes & cliche busters
Carina Finn’s & Stephanie Berger’s emoji translations
Steve Roggenbuck’s horse trample
Penny Goring’s evol
others’ others
idk read it i guess. good stuff

A Human Shaped

image

poetic misspelling permanently carved into a granite public landmark
land’s end statue
san francisco, ca

i like this phrasing better although somebody probably lost their job

(Source: jv-greco)

molly sent me this from seattle. it was on a bench. i like it
∞ Permalink   -   349 notes   -  Reblog
Keeps Documenting

we have the right to film the police. they don’t like it because it may compromise their tyrannical authority or make them look bad, but we as americans have the right not to be censored.

the police need to be policed. all power needs checks & balances, and by capturing things on film there’s at least an undeniable counterweight against these seriously oppressive, racist, and fkn homicidal abuses of power.

cops may demand you stop filming, they may try to block you from filming, they may demand you erase your camera, and they may demand your cellphone be handed over, but they don’t have any legal recourse to do so without a search warrant unless under exigent circumstances. these circumstance are that a cop has a strong belief you are in the process of deleting evidence on your camera/cell, which clearly, you aren’t. they don’t have the legal recourse to delete the evidence that you have on them.

we can step away from the scene and continue filming.

under the First, Fourth, and Fourteenth amendment of the United States Constitution we have the protected right to film an arrest, or any duty of a police officer performed in public. in 2012 the U.S. Department of Justice made as much clear in the case of Christopher Sharp v The Baltimore City Police Department  wherein it deemed a Baltimore resident’s constitutional rights were violated when officers seized, searched, and deleted his cellphone after it was used to record officers forcibly arresting Mr. Sharp’s friend. yesterday a memo went out to the NYPD reminding them that they can be filmed while performing their duties.

im just putting this info out there because a lot of people may not be familiar with their own rights and it’s confusing when a police officer - someone who can threaten arresting you, and is in a position to take away your freedom (possibly your life) - is coercing you to stop filming, or to hand over your camera, or erase that recording. 

we have the right to step away and continue filming. we have rights.

(Source: jv-greco)

∞ Permalink   -   11 notes   -  Reblog
Augurst

I love summer but fuck
                                   if you’d know that from my language.
                                                                 from my language
you only hear apologies for broken plans, for not being there
where I said I would, when you wanted me.
                                                              sorry to all my friends
must mean Summer in some language
                   Summer in some language new to us sounds

like broken plans & quit jobs. Outlast a Supermoon 
                                                                              one
who speaks Summer
                                  hears forgiveness
in selfish asshole; i miss you 
                                               in staying out all night
speaking Summer, straight to voicemail
                                                               Say nothing
 to sounds of water breaking in the swimming hole,
      because there is nothing in this swimming hole
                                                   outside
                                                               our secret
Were school vacation embedded Dec thru February
all those years ago
we’d speak Winter on our private hill
                                                              the silence
of sled runners slicing packed snow
                                                         Understand me,

                                     don’t wait up

feeling grateful for having found this in a bookstore, this san francisco poet’s voice.  s/o to Wave Books for putting this out. thanks, Wave
"Fuck off with your crippling guiltThe earth has edges…”
"Empty balcony seats, operatic little fallsThe poems of a Multibillionaire, a vow of silence”
"Nice to see you, to walk a bit and stop, as on a river,it’s lava shut under in a tunnel of love, regardlessthe visions hike up overnight and flames trail off likethe finest spider’s thread slipping my mind”
∞ Permalink   -   9 notes   -  Reblog
∞ Permalink   -   25 notes   -  Reblog
antarcticabysea:

Los Angeles, CA
I’m reading this, working my way through it slowly. There are spaces here, places of significance and weight, and it feels good to be weighed down, sometimes, like meters under water, the enormity of an ocean pushing you further into its depths. Struggle is good, I think, forced kicks upward and out, to keep you focused and OK.
"Dearer Atmosphere,Lookit me, 37 years old & I don’t know if life’s half over or halfway begun.”
You should read Torch Ballads (and the rest of his work); I got it on a trade, but perhaps it’s back in stock at Pioneers Press.

good lookin’ out Antartica! it actually will be back in stock with Pioneers THIS WEEKEND. thanks for sharing this, and thanks to everyone who’s given a shit/ given this collection a read/shared thoughts, quotes, photos/reblogged shit/ spread the word. you know who you are. and youre appreciated.a lot of people are into that groundless, surreal kind of “poetry”stuff, and a lot of people who are into “poetry” feel zines are beneath them, but a) fuck them b) my zines are more like people and lives and maybe “Spoon River Anthology death tales” (says Angela). not everybody’s bag, but hey, neither were the Germs, or Winesburg, Ohio. w.w.d.i.s. what are your poems?
∞ Permalink   -   10 notes   -  Reblog
Make Zines &

when you make zines & your gf’s cat jumps on the desk while you’re brewing more coffee and their paw drags through your painted covers.

when you make zines & cut and tape the texts onto a piece of paper and there’s a cat hair stuck in the tape and you don’t have excess money to just scrap it all and start again so the cat hair stays and when you print it the cute damn cat is in every single copy forever. & that’s real.
& that’s as real as it gets. Publishing houses aren’t doing that. 
make zines & that cat is real, as real as those words are to you and your imaginary friends

realdreamsthatnevergosmash:

from Sad and Beautiful World #2, summer 2004
∞ Permalink   -   10 notes   -  Reblog
gnade:

This made the HELL out of my day. Glad you liked the new record (it’s definitely not for everyone) and I’m always happy to see one of my things next to one of the things I love the most (the Death in a Rifle Garden zine). Great meeting you on tour, as well. I thought the story of you eating the rejection letters was pretty damn excellent. Happy International Zine Month…
upthawolfs:

lil package from wearepioneerspress arrived safely in the mail on friday & made my day as per usual— posting this here mostly to get it out there that greater mythology blues, the album/zine shown here in orange, is my new favorite record & i haven’t been able to stop playing it on repeat in my car around town. go grab a copy if you’re looking for music that sounds best played real loud past midnight when you’re heading home with all the windows down and the state highway empty in front of you and you can feel the ghosts of the old south & the older south watching you from behind all the billboards. recommended for fans of cicadas, frogs, the blues, ghosts, etc.
in addition to how much i’m enjoying the album, adam (along with everyone else at PP) is one of the good guys— besides having helped out me & a whole legion of other folks with his big motherfuckin’ sad book, i met him at a book reading back in may and he really tactfully kept his cool while i spontaneously told him a story about how i ate one of my college rejection letters (thanks, adam). as always, i LOVE pioneers press and i can’t rep these guys enough, but i’m gonna keep doing it, so: in related news, it’s international zine month, AKA a perfect time to get on the bandwagon of one of the coolest distros i know & try to support them if you can, truly.


hey i completely agree with you about Greater Mythology Blues (the album, haven’t read the zine yet) - it’s so damn good!   been listening to it the entire year so far. “The boy born with 12 fingers, the prophecy, the destroyer…”and thanks for giving that D.i.a.R.G. zine a shot. hope you enjoy
∞ Permalink   -   14 notes   -  Reblog
Preface 18 by Chelsey Minnis

from Bad Bad(Fence Books 2007)

*i hate my shitty camera

White Privilege (Scalps & Spoils)

A decent fucking
Frack accident
Earthquakes mount rush
                                 more presents
                         like a scalping

                        Trickled granite cheek
                                                  bone
Doom an orphan’s bob n’ weave
         donkey kong
                              down beneath
Until he trainhops a Thunderline
                     head west in rain
Like ecstatic dance, escaping
                                         police. Last night
 they circled him for defacing property -
             chalk mark on metal
                                     freight
Something man to man
                              made
          chickenscratched like:
Fuck Yr Crazy Horse Pointing Too
& maybe a shaky bozo texino beside

                                      you can imagine 
The privileged feeling: slips
Through a heavy fine one death
                                          dry night
& this morning faces
   this murderous site, american burial
                                                   ground
          crumbling wild hillside