tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4514346365375425292024-02-07T19:18:13.323-05:00Ed Go's blogEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-87330322721720396902013-07-06T13:49:00.001-04:002013-07-06T13:49:44.590-04:00Ed Go here:<a href="http://edgosblog.wordpress.com/">http://edgosblog.wordpress.com/</a>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-2742158041116353992012-08-19T19:57:00.000-04:002012-08-19T19:57:25.838-04:00<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eSzdJbl1afc?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Other Rooms performance at Shayz Lounge in Greenpoint, Brooklyn - Aug 18, 2012Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-84393750029617216282012-07-29T10:21:00.004-04:002012-07-29T10:21:50.180-04:00<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Other Rooms online issue no.9</a></span></i></span></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">summer 2012</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">in this issue: </span></span></i></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/joseph-cooper.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Joseph Cooper</a> </span></span></span></i></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/05/soon.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"Tsunami"</a> <span id="goog_996946143"></span></span></span></span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">by Danny Earl Simmons</span></span></span></i></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2082137645" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"</a></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/whimsical-word-junket.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Whimsical Word Junket" </a></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">&</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"> <a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/confessions-to-solfeggio.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"Confessions of Solfeggio"</a> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">by Rose Mary Boehm</span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2082137653" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"</a></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/soon.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Eradication" </a></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">& </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1157068567" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"</a></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/or-online-issue-no.html" style="border-bottom-color: red; border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: black; text-decoration: none;">Corydoras</a></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">" </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">by Mariya Deykute</span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">"</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/you-if-only.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">You, If Only</a></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">" & "</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/bo-grumpus-balls-jack.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Bo Grumpus Balls the Jack</a></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">" </span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">by Richard Pearse</span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2082137669" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"</a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/coming-soon.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">hotel room"</a> <a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/mcg1.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"a new york movie"</a> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">& </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/ed-gos-essay.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">"morning sun" </a></span></span></span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">by melissa christine goodrum</span></span></span></i></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/4play-8.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">4Play Excerpts</a> </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/4play-8.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </a></span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"> by Michelle Taransky, j/j hastain, Travis Macdonald & Joseph Cooper</span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/or-online-issue-no_07.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Farewell</a> </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/or-online-issue-no_07.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Encyclopaedia Britannica</a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1157068583" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> </a></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"><a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2012/07/or-online-issue-no_07.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">(and Good Riddance You Worthless Piece of Shit)</a></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">by Ed Go</span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span></div>
</span></span></span></i></span></span>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-68760829655745583172012-07-04T14:21:00.001-04:002012-07-04T14:21:14.521-04:00My latest short stories in <i>In Between Altered States</i><br />
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<a href="http://inbetweenalteredstates.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/three-views-of-the-scene-by-ed-go/" target="_blank">Three Views of the Scene</a></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://inbetweenalteredstates.wordpress.com/2012/05/27/we-leap-in-convo-17-by-ed-go/" target="_blank">We Leap In Convo #17</a></span></i></span></h2>
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</i>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-84496182085681121972012-03-30T07:10:00.001-04:002012-03-30T07:12:00.337-04:00she's a hot island<div>girl i'm pretty</div><div>much opposite</div><div>but one time i too</div><div>found love in a hope</div><div>less place</div>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-54358469623014796232011-10-28T10:14:00.005-04:002011-10-28T10:54:52.730-04:00WHY WE HATE THE COPS<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; ">When I was about 5 or 6 my mom showed me a picture in the paper and said, “This is why we hate the cops.” In the photo, a man is held down by police officers, his bloody mouth gagged by several pairs of handcuffs linked together to form a chain. The man was my mother’s brother. When I was older I would learn enough about my uncle to know that he probably deserved what he got, but I have never escaped the feeling that those whose actions should be punished should not face that punishment at the hands of individuals who are supposedly assigned to protect them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; ">Three and a half decades later I was driving in Brownsville, Brooklyn, and as I approached a red light I slowed down, intending to stop. A police car approached the intersection from the left, also slowing down. As we both neared the stop line, my light turned green and I proceeded into the intersection. Just as I crossed the stop line, the police car, with at least three officers in it, coffee cups in hand, sped up just enough to cruise through the intersection, forcing me to brake hard as they drove by staring intently at me. “Did you see what they did?” I asked my passenger and was informed that this kind of thing happens all the time in the hood. It should not have surprised me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; ">About five years earlier in Chinatown I watched as two cops—both large men—confiscated a bag of counterfeit merchandise from an elderly woman. Sure, the woman was dealing in illegal goods, and the cops were doing their job, but they were doing it with glee; empowered by their ability to terrify someone far weaker, they could not hide the pleasure they were taking in their work. They proceeded to confiscate goods from other vendors, who quickly packed up and moved while shops were closing the gates to the backrooms of their stores. The people I was with wanted to shop for faux designer handbags; they were upset they were coming away empty handed, but as I watched these two cops doing their job, the smugness of their strut through the crowd of vendors and tourists allowed me to see firsthand what I had long suspected: the motto <i>To Serve and Protect</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is followed by an unwritten direct object of the verbs, </span><i>(the Rich).</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; "><i></i><span style="font-style:normal"> Whatever arguments one might make about the right of individuals and companies to profit from their creations, the actions of those police officers did nothing to either protect or serve the people there that day—neither the vendors trying to earn a living nor the consumers trying to find a good deal on products they couldn’t afford. The people selling fake Chanels are not in competition with the stores who sell the real ones; the people who shop for fakes on the streets of Chinatown are not the same people who are going to buy the real thing in Bloomingdale’s. The actions of the police officers that day protected the right of those who already have money to make more; they served those who have already benefited from capitalist ventures, at the expense of those who are struggling to benefit from the same.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; ">An internet video posted on October 15, 2011, reconfirmed all of this for me: it shows protesters at a Citibank near Zuccotti park who were attempting to close their bank accounts as an act of protest. As the video begins they are locked inside the bank; at the end of the video a woman outside the bank is forcibly dragged inside by police, allegedly because she is one of the protesters. Regardless of what happened before the video began (some say the protesters were just trying close their accounts; others that they were loud and disruptive), the fact of what is being shown on the video is that people are locked in a building against their will, and one person is forced into the building, and arrested for refusing to leave the building. Who were the police serving in this instance? When an officer grabbed an unarmed, nonviolent woman and carried her into the building, who was he protecting? These questions are not rhetorical: the answer here is Citibank, who stood to lose money by the actions of these protesters. No other people or entities were in any danger.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; ">I was at Zuccotti Park that day and as I made my way through the crowds I would stop often to read signs and talk to people. That’s what everyone was doing, except for the police officers continually telling us to keep moving and keep the sidewalk clear. No one argued with them and we all did our best to not block other people’s passage, but when one cop justified his command with the excuse that not everyone wanted to be there and were just walking through, I wondered where he got that notion. I was one of the people being told to keep moving so that I wouldn’t block these hypothetical passersby, but it occurred to me that no one there was just passing through—everyone present, except the police, were there because that is where we wanted to be. Anyone just passing through would not have entered the park—it’s not a large park—they would have walked on the other side of the street, and I wasn’t the only one thinking this as one young woman said out loud the very thing I was thinking. Then I saw someone with a sign that read: <i>NYPD – You’re Welcome for the Overtime</i><span style="font-style:normal">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; "><span style="font-style:normal">The next day I heard on the news that overtime pay for police was well into the millions, and they were being kept from dealing with real crimes because the department was spending so much time and resources on the protests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Time and resources—money—wasted on maintaining a police presence where it is not needed, for the purpose of telling people who are where they want to be to not be there (and occasionally punching and pepper spraying them in the face). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;line-height: 150%; ">Another thing that occurred to me that day was that these police officers telling us to clear the sidewalks were in fact doing their jobs, their instructions coming to them from those higher up, like the ones who shut down street vendors in Chinatown, and not all of them did it with conviction. The one who told us we all didn’t want to be there seemed to be happy he was somewhere he could boss people around, but other cops didn’t seem so content with what they were doing. One young officer seemed distracted as she directed us to keep moving; she had the look of a wary worker, doing it for the money with no joy, no sense of place in her occupation. I thought she should join us—after all, the police are working class people and stand to benefit as much from the movement as anyone . . .<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>except of course those they are employed to serve and protect. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6svA6Qvq1U">"Close Your Bank Account and Get Arrested" video on youtube</a></p> <!--EndFragment-->Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-37106054523521109032011-10-26T23:26:00.002-04:002011-10-26T23:31:34.281-04:00Heaven, Hell & Middle Earth3 poems in Sarah Sarai’s <span style="font-style:italic;">The Future Is Happy</span> [an interpretation]<br />by Ed Go<br /><br />(originally published in Other Rooms online, fall 2010)<br /><br />“Walter Pater wrote that all art aspires to the condition of music. The obvious reason [ . . . ] would be that, in music, form and substance cannot be torn asunder.”*<br /><br />In “hAve You Been Married, the Sister asK” by Sarah Sarai, Tolkien’s most fascinating character is invoked like a muse in the last stanza: “no meaning in a ring (O! Smêagol) Til / boom-boomed in fire soul-scalding” (lines 13-14). Is the poet here actually calling out to the former incarnation of Gollum to guide her in her contemplation of the significance of a ring (of power or matrimony) or is she merely acknowledging the absence of significance by invoking absent presence—the former incarnation of the creature destroyed by the ring, the original being before being driven to madness and grotesquery consumed by greed and hunger? As the original being Smêagol has the more legitimate claim to his real estate: he is Alpha Beta original—“I were chosen I know to asignify <span style="font-style:italic;">aboriginal</span> / rage Ascribed esoteric as waltztime frenzy” (1-2 emphasis added)—Gollum his colonizer; the A-B-original is lost, forgotten, but always more significant as signifier (asignifying) the land which he inhabits. This land is of course Middle Earth, Tolkien’s translation of the Old English <span style="font-style:italic;">middengeard</span>—akin to the Norse Midgard—literally the middle yard, the yard in the middle of heaven and hell (Asgard and Hel), where men dwell (and presumably women).<br /><br />In <span style="font-style:italic;">The Future Is Happy</span>, Sarai’s first collection published by BlazeVOX [books] last year, “hAve You Been Married, the Sister asK”—which first appeared in Other Rooms in 2008—occupies a place between two poems which can be read as Heaven and Hell: “The Rebirth Live” and “Emma Bovary and Anna Karenina in Heaven” nonrespectively. In the latter, the poet imagines a Heaven populated by “friends” the likes of which would make any lover of literature happy: in addition to “Emma and Anna / smil[ing] at the fiction of their lives” (7-8) there’s “Holden Caufield. Humbert Humbert. / Nora. Medea. Jane Eyre” (15-17) and “Gregor Samsa wriggl[ing], vamping” (19). What poet wouldn’t want to go to a Heaven like that? “Think: conversational Mecca” (18), except how would one maintain a conversation with the likes of Humbert Humbert and Holden Caufield? Their conversation is so one-sided there would be no opportunity to speak to them, to tell Humbert what an ass he is, or Holden to stop being a whiny emo punk. Jane would annoy me—I’d much rather talk to the madwoman in the attic—and Gregor, well, I used to kill cockroaches for a living, so we might have a hard time finding common ground. I admit I don’t know the rest well enough to comment on them, but for that very reason I can’t imagine them in my heaven.<br /><br />Here are the inhabitants of my conversational paradise: Dejah ‘Deety’ Thoris Carter, nee Burroughs; Precious Jones; Janey Smith; Mina Harker; Lois Lane. That’s what heaven is: a transition of your self through a representation of shared imaginations—“<span style="font-style:italic;">We are morphed</span>”(20), and becoming our own cockroaches; perhaps this is why the future is happy, but in hell it’s a loss of self, a loss such as only comes through breaking away from the restrictions of language—restrictions of meaning, intended and inferred. It’s all interpretation.<br /><br />Music may be that breaking away. In “The Rebirth Live” Sarai reflects on being “young when communication was initiated” (1): “God is in the funk the beat the blues” (12). But now in her “hellhole / solitude-encrusted sweat box of a New York City / cell qua apartment” (25-27) she hears “seven musicians in L.A.” (28), and that music is what takes her out of hell. No need for meanings, intended or inferred, for music is that perfect blend of form and substance, and in “The Rebirth Live” it comes in the form of a “compact miracle disk” (27) that reminds the I of the poem of birth, and rebirth, not an interpretation but an experience—a miraculous one that transcends interpretation. From hell we escape through music; in heaven we find ourselves in imaginary others, but on this Earth, in the Middle Yard, we are only the asignification of aboriginality.<br /><br />O Smêagol! Why will we not choose you to be in our heaven? What music do you hear under the Misty Mountains? Do you know what’s in my pocket?<br /><br /><br /><br />*Borges, Jorge Luis. <span style="font-style:italic;">This Craft of Verse: The Charles Eliot Norton Lectures 1967-1968</span>. Harvard University Press, 2000. pg.77Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-86051724542344457142011-08-13T14:21:00.001-04:002011-08-13T14:23:18.477-04:00a new post i will host i do the most with the post to post my post post host post most and then i'll go on and on and on and on my center comes alive at the bust of dawn my movement it moves my moment it momes and then i go to the fo of the yo
<br />Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-34578836789963128532011-07-07T09:54:00.001-04:002011-07-07T09:55:57.472-04:00don't read my <a href="http://otherroomspress.blogspot.com/2011/04/ed-go.html">brief commentary on the future of poetry</a>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-65766324585111304332011-06-02T15:31:00.002-04:002011-06-02T15:32:47.224-04:00i got this idea when i got this ideaand i thought to myself hey what about this idea so i said to myself this idea is good and myself said no it's not let's not do it so i didn'tEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-12428494257527139962010-07-31T10:38:00.000-04:002010-07-31T10:39:32.498-04:00asianamerican halfbreed trilogy<i>(originally published in The Canary 2006)</i><br /><br /><br /><b>why my name’s not eddie sora as told to me by my father</b><br /><br />there were 3 Go brothers from china<br /> who lived in the philippines<br />& ran a successful gas station/rosary shop<br /> until one of them Go-ke-beng fell<br /> in love w/ trinidad marquez a local<br /> & had to convert to catholicism in order<br /> to marry her & he had to<br /> take a christian name & became william<br /> Go—though they tried to change<br /> his family name too but he refused<br />i was never really sure who <i>they</i> were<br />but they must’ve been in cahoots w/<br /> the brothers who returned to china<br /> w/ everything leaving my grandfather<br /> behind to protect his family<br /> when the japanese came<br /><br />i’m still not sure who <i>they</i> are<br />but i railed against them<br /> in that period from my late teens<br /> into my early 20s<br /> when i saw it as my duty to inform everyone of who i was<br />& what greatness i had come from<br />not the lies i had been taught<br /> but truth about fireworks & genghis khan <br /> marco polo & magellan<br /> things i’ve already written about<br /><br />that was my kill whitey stage<br /> i came out of that<br />but what i’ve never told anyone is<br /> my main inspiration for reclaiming<br /> my heritage was<br /> the karate kid<br /> part 2—the one where daniel-san accompanies mr miyagi<br /> back to okinawa<br />& asses get kicked but this time it’s not about a trophy<br /> it’s about honor<br />mr miyagi tells daniel-san in okinawa honor is very serious <br />& he also tells him the best way to avoid a punch is<br /> don’t be there<br />that teaching has served me well<br /><br />mr miyagi was one of my spiritual guides while growing up<br />the others were ben kenobi<br /> who taught me there’s no such thing as luck<br /> & master yoda who not just through word<br /> but through action proved<br /> size matters not<br /><br /><br />don’t worry—<br /> i know the difference between<br /> real life & fiction<br /> i do not believe in the force<br /> & i have no skills w/ a light saber<br />i can however choke people<br /> from across a room<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><b>at least i’m not as big a dork as wesley crusher</b><br /><br />ok wes—so you ended up pretty cool<br /> w/ your ability to stop time<br /> & traveling to other planes<br /> of existence w/ the traveler<br />but that 1st time you fell in love<br /> w/ the chick who could shapeshift<br /> did you have to be such a wuss<br /><br />the 1st time i fell in love<br /> she only had one shape<br />her name was nalani martinez<br />i thought she was hispanic<br />but she explained to me how the spanish<br /> couldn’t pronounce the natives’ names<br /> so they changed them<br /><br />why am i eduardo marquez<br />my last name’s chinese<br /> i’ve told that story in another poem<br />but this is about how<br /> everyone asks <i>are you spanish</i><br />& when i say no they say<br /> <i>but your name’s eduardo</i><br />i tell them it’s filipino<br />& then i have to give them<br /> a 30 second lesson in colonialism<br />well i don’t have to<br />but i like to<br /><br />what i’d rather tell them though<br /> is that even though<br /> i know it’s my ethnic responsibility<br /> to hate claire danes<br /> because of that remark she made<br /> a few years back<br /> about manila<br /> & the smell of cockroaches<br />i can forgive her for that<br /><br />what i can’t get past<br /> is that whole jordan catalano thing<br />angela what were you thinking<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><b>chicken soup for the asshole who i kicked in the nuts last week while waiting for a table at the olive garden</b><br /><br />i guess i’m kinda sorry but<br /> you talk shit you get shit<br /> that’s just the way it goes<br /><br />i suppose i could’ve quoted shakespeare at you<br />& everyone would’ve thought i was smart<br />& said <i>ooh he reads a lot</i><br /> which might be true but most of what i’ve learned<br /> has come from television<br />i told my students recently<br /> they should watch more television<br />& they laughed but i was serious<br />when i was a student they taught us what it is<br /> to be a good american<br />but in all those years i can’t recall<br /> once discussing the constitution<br />i learned about the constitution<br /> on saturday mornings<br /> schoolhouse rock—<i>we the people / in order to form a more perfect union / establish justice ensure domestic tranquility / provide for the common defense / promote the general welfare & / secure the blessings of liberty / to ourselves & our posterity / do ordain & establish this / constitution / for the united states of / america </i><br /><br /><br />i believed in those words & when i was old enough to vote i voted but everyone i voted for has betrayed me<br /><br /><br />now<br />i’m waiting for the g<br /> at midnight<br /> & wondering why<br /> i just can’t get this compassion thing down<br /> when i’ve read<br /> most of thich nhat hanh’s books<br /> listened to the dalai lama<br /> & meditate on a semi-regular basis <br />but still can’t get over the <i>me chinese<br /> me play joke<br /> me put pee pee in your coke</i><br /> joke—that was 30 years ago<br />& the only orientals i could look up to<br /> besides my father<br />were bruce of course & kwai chang caine<br /> who i was really down w/ cuz<br /> he was a half-breed like me<br /> but then i found out david carradine<br /> was just a white guy chinking it up<br /> & not only that<br />but he stole the part from bruce<br /> who came up w/ the whole idea of the kung fu western<br /> but they didn’t want an oriental<br />so i was left w/<br /> mr sulu<br />& hong kong phooey—#1 superguyEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-269223282381680322010-02-14T14:02:00.000-05:002010-02-14T14:03:00.149-05:00ABORT<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">[does cs need another blog?</span></span>]---Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-62132101809778606872010-01-06T12:50:00.000-05:002010-01-06T12:51:04.400-05:00TITLEEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-7534064505648862032010-01-06T12:42:00.001-05:002010-01-06T13:02:55.797-05:00sestinas<span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" ><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/sestina-to-sun-evolution-approaches.html">to the sun</a><br /><br /><br /></span><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/jarnot-wordsworth-sestina-they-suffer.html">not jar worth words</a><br /><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/wordsworth-jarnot-sestina-sunthey-loved.html">worth words not jar</a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:130%;" ><br /><br /><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/sestina-to-sun-revolutions-of-mars.html"><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">sestina</span></a><br /><br /><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/sestina-to-sun-mercury-flicks.html"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: courier new;">sestina to the sun</span></span></a></span>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-78131030764876026932010-01-06T12:29:00.003-05:002010-01-06T12:52:41.468-05:004 apo strophe s<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/apostrophe-to-sun-youre-so-goddamn.html"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxvid_v4_ueo46JahtuiySM5oR_t3VT2x64PYiVwh94BT9v_1cbq7uHuI5RzNPk6rm0KzZTynaE-UL9uJJarBY8VBL8zNOUGwN_1KL4dLww5ypSyO5AMyZljWUq4tX21BHcot02xc-DW3/s200/477882762_1674138825_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423681840184796994" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/apostrophe-to-sun-not-quite-sanguinary.html"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQsT4DvFFgjgyYWqJ09mNZHxJstV0bhIGvdoji2d540INtTz9ryC_-MQZ08U6Sn88JapxzYciH-QIHC8HUcVSCEjSqEN8_jnUZNy_6k6e4XUDOwZy6zI0LwNGYBVK8e53nK8AHD48vjf5/s200/some+things+cannot+be+explained.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423681833175327570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/to-sun-battering-trance-rams-across.html"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 151px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJJ9ZDdCU9EPIwxa0MlechIwlRLDzj2Nqh4Vxvqc9c5v_vvCOCfqMIRN6rsWUtdfsDjfREztWNRmxqYVY_qFYEZ8cf64j3RanFqxebNCSMY8prqRhhYRkvWofraicjARWqW8SGCgAsdyS/s200/coffee.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423681831672717234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/apostrophe-to-sun-family-friends-flock.html"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 151px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYftI0fYpvQ43HgJdhg_NKnITWliwK8jQg8x-wipmFTumwMGkfsL79wO-Lz96lnOj0TEiHeerx8TrBeOZrUFw3PTU3VgPb5emdGwfZ82bZj-W8Csh0ZI3PyJDSj76pAJG7d41Fh0F0cNA/s200/ball+plant.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423681824640910466" border="0" /></a>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-33355063512130515362010-01-06T11:30:00.007-05:002010-01-06T13:04:07.788-05:00<span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >hate the sun:</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2010-01-06T12%3A50%3A00-05%3A00&max-results=1"><span style="font-size:180%;">5</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >sestinas </span></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2010-01-06T12%3A42%3A00-05%3A00&max-results=1"><span style="font-size:180%;">4</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">apostrophes </span></a><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://edgosblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/ode-to-sun-swearing-that-he-would-never.html">& <span style="font-size:180%;">an</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">ode</span></a></div>Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-41252214317816113722010-01-06T10:47:00.001-05:002010-01-06T10:47:30.820-05:00apostrophe to the sun<br /><br />youre so goddamn overrated—<br /> sure you give us light you give us warmth & w/out you we wouldnt exist <br /> but really—what have you done for us lately—<br /><br />spittin out cancer & sending deadly rays through <br />holes in our ozone a peeping tom wanking <br />on godiva waking me up in the middle of morning <br /> w/ lousy timing & sunny disposition <br />ancients considered you almighty & maybe <br />we should too considering <br /> if you die <br /> we follow <br /> in about 8 <br /> minutes but its my morning & i <br /> should sleep through it <br /> if i want & its our ozone <br /> & we should be <br /> able to put holes in it <br /> w/out some selfserving <br /> celestial fireball gettin <br /> radioactive about it<br />is it because i never wrote you an ode <br />or when i do mention you its to bitch <br />about your brightness or celebrate dark<br />plenty give you props—i wanna give dark <br />its due <br /> lisa jarnot said i was drawn <br />to darkness where others are drawn to light<br />wanted me to write about flowers but i bloom <br />in darkness & violence<br /> another <br />encouraged me to seek “a more understated <br />violence in [my] writing” as if overstating <br />violence somehow lessened me as one <br />who could metaphorize the cross-pollination <br />process into a statement against war <br /> im <br />as anti-war as the next half-informed pseudo<br />revolutionary literary genius but im not a pacifist<br />if someone throws a punch im gonna punch him <br />back <br /> better yet the preemptive strike<br /><br />flowers are fine subjects but so is blossoming <br />energy & light when particles fuse together <br />create little versions of you right here on earth<br />theres beauty in this<br />& the hot chick who i wanted <br />to fuck & knew she wanted to <br />fuck me until she heard me use<br /> christ & cunt <br />in the same line or the work<br />shop comrade who expressed <br />his concern i would show up <br />one day w/ an uzi to take em <br />all out which is completely <br />ridiculous <br /> anyone <br />who knows me knows im incapable <br />of killing another human being w/ an uzi . . .<br />i would use an AK-47Ed Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-19067869257729107062010-01-06T10:46:00.002-05:002010-01-06T10:47:04.156-05:00apostrophe to the sun<br /><br />family & friends flock to you in fields&beaches <br />seeking warmth & light / grateful of existence <br />picnics drinking past descent / adoring radiation<br /><br /><br /><br />just concentrate on mercury venus mars forget about a planet <br />where people still worship you in practice but in theory have <br />cast off their awe of your godliness long ago & giants forming <br />their own systems godlike in their central orbits why waste <br />time on minor players who gather their most learned sages to <br />declare pluto not a planet—dupes in the vortex <br /><br />pluto was never a planetEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-85738756848378067182010-01-06T10:46:00.001-05:002010-01-06T10:46:36.451-05:00apostrophe to the sun<br /><br />not quite sanguinary <br />spewin out cancer <br /> <br />awe-struck multitudes flock to<br />dust between giants <br /><br />bones baked in mercury <br />raw muscle formation<br /><br />ancients considered you only <br />because they couldnt cast off theory<br /><br />[someone told me there was <br />darkness drawing me in]<br /><br />is it because we break bones <br />burning becomes naughthought <br /><br />an understated pacifism <br />duped by going down <br /><br />through holes in great walls erected <br />coerce us into composing <br /><br />odes celebrating firelight<br />central to wisconsin<br /><br />[or maybe its consumerism<br />that gives me such a woody]<br /><br />& just as wendy takes her top off<br />suzie sucks her candy<br /><br />but i hate beach & ocean<br />rather step in shit than sandEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-17139941299246590882010-01-06T10:45:00.002-05:002010-01-06T10:46:05.734-05:00to the sun<br /><br />battering trance rams <br />across galaxy <br />fermentating existence<br /> blooming black<br /> balloonbomb <br />fusion briefly<br /><br />cancer <br />life fission <br />sparks <br /> hills beneath trees <br />& trees<br />rain vainly down <br /><br />nucleus <br />afterthought<br />wandering lonely void seeks circling galactic current <br />for deorbitting spiraling futility <br />springing daffodils back to elements <br />from alpha omega omicron<br />to alabama paris nigeria<br />guam kampuchea tongo<br />st petersburg kodiak djibouti<br />guyana bangkok luxemburg <br />bolivia denmark &<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> lingerEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-76760587832591047102010-01-06T10:45:00.001-05:002010-01-06T10:45:33.550-05:00ode to the sun<br /><br />[swearing that he would never write an ode <br />to the sun Ed Go switches his cipher <br />bastes his breadbasket w/ siphoning momentum<br />so that] sun&longing linger<br /> linger in the cellar <br /> stellar greenbulb bakingEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-13174871207379311652010-01-06T10:44:00.002-05:002010-01-06T10:45:10.452-05:00sestina to the sun<br /><br />evolution approaches<br />illuminations vortex<br />approaching consciousness <br />vortexing evolution <br />conscious hatred<br />hating illuminations <br /><br />hating illuminations<br />evolutions approach<br />illuminating hatred<br />approaching vortex<br />vortexing evolution<br />conscious consciousness<br /><br />consciousness conscious<br />hatred illuminating<br />evolution evolving<br />illuminations approach<br />approaching vortexes<br />vortexing hate<br /><br />vortexed hatred<br />consciousness consciousing<br />hating vortex<br />evolution illuminates<br />illuminating approach<br />approaching evolves<br /><br />approaching evolution<br />vortexing hatred<br />conscious approach<br />hating consciousness<br />evolving illumination<br />illuminating vortex<br /><br />illuminating vortexes<br />approaching evolution<br />vortexing illuminates<br />consciousness hates<br />hatred approaching<br />evolution conscious<br /><br /><br />approaches illumination<br />conscious evolution <br />vortextual hateEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-89456700113822075002010-01-06T10:44:00.001-05:002010-01-06T10:44:44.348-05:00sestina to the sun<br /><br /><br /> revolutions of mars <br />darkness tweaks morning <br />strikes bitter mocha <br />drawn caribbean<br />afterthought—not a thought <br />pseudo-scientific <br />scientificness<br />revolutionary evolution<br />thinks he mongol<br />darkness uncomes him<br />drawn to smoothness<br />stricken of bloodhard<br />strikes her striking<br />science him making<br />drawing her near to <br />revolutions evolving<br />dark<br />thoughts fungus<br />darkthoughts<br />strike<br />darkness uncoming<br />scientific<br />revolutions<br />drawn<br /> drawn flatly<br /> thought flat femur<br />evolution spinning<br /> striking north norway<br />science crosses ocean<br />dark dark<br />darkness<br />draw drawn<br />science<br />thought<br />strikes<br />evolutionary de-grading <br />thoughts not science<br /> striking wooly mammoth drawing up on coral <br />evolution revolves at once to distant clouds at duskEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-82558618907530564592010-01-06T10:43:00.000-05:002010-01-06T10:44:16.493-05:00sestina to the sun<br /><br />mercury flicks revolutions<br />circling multiple darknesses<br />multiplies preemptive strikes<br />cucumbers radioactively drawn<br />to alabama afterthoughts<br />afterthinking pseudo-scientific <br />porcupines in scientificness<br />pacifist duped revolutionary<br />afterthoughts—naughthoughts—not thoughts<br />blue darkness<br />to gray light drawn<br />burned flesh stricken<br />cornbeam strikes struck & stricken<br />lightning science<br />snowcow drawing <br />foamy puss revolutions<br />through dark<br />dark thoughts<br />darkthoughts<br />darking green salmon strike<br />dark dandelion darkness<br />dandy lined intestinal scientific<br />revolutions<br />lions w/ stovepipe hats drawn<br />where dark is drawn<br />theres beauty in this thought<br />this revolution<br />this striking<br />this scientifically<br />dark dark<br />this wet red darkness<br />this dark drawn<br />dark science<br />creeping as a thought<br />after north dakota strikes<br />canned pork revolutionary<br />science thought<br />drawing striking<br />dark revolutionEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-451434636537542529.post-58169775407272612232010-01-06T10:42:00.000-05:002010-01-06T10:43:16.915-05:00jarnot wordsworth sestina<br /><br />they suffer only as a cloud<br />floating high over hills<br />bathed in sun where a crowd<br />grows tall among daffodils<br />beside the lake beneath the trees<br />fluttering & dancing in the breeze<br /><br />dancing & fluttering in the breeze<br />as rain rains down & clouds<br />grow tall beneath the trees<br />beside the lake above the hills<br />blocking out the daffodils<br />raining on the trees & crowd<br /><br />& clouds above the crowd<br />prancing & stuttering in the breeze<br />lost over hills of daffodils<br />dancing w/ the hills & clouds<br />while trees grow high on hills <br />of trees & clouds block trees<br /><br />& block out sun while trees <br />grow high on hills & crowds<br />beneath the lake beyond the hills<br />stuttering & muttering in the breeze<br />above the hills beyond the clouds<br />blocking trees & daffodils<br /><br />i want to eat the daffodils<br />& crush the crowd w/ trees<br />but current movements of the clouds<br />prevent the killing of the crowd<br />jibbering & jabbering in the breeze<br />inside the lake between the hills<br /><br />conscious of the trees & hills<br />as daffodils approach daffodils<br />for sex w/ daffodils in the breeze<br />among the hills w/out the trees<br />conscious that the crowd<br />eats sex & sun & clouds<br /><br />beside the daffodils beneath the clouds<br />beyond the hill between the trees<br />cowering & crowding in the breezeEd Gohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06271731392073179900noreply@blogger.com0