September 6, 2011
my own private Elgin, Illinois
the sun is setting now and the leaves aren’t still but luminous, vivid greens and some reds.
verdant splendor of intense color shaded by a myriad of others and backed by intense whites and pinks of gravel driveway.
All images blur and skip frame to frame like an old 8mm.
2. (and then again)
all the colors become brilliant and to know what it means.
I gave god the better odds on this one.
loaded a single cartridge into a six-wheel and spun.
my own private Elgin, Illinois,
images blur and frame skip to slow
an old 8mm film
alighting the spirits of
Jack Daniels and Johnnie Walker
an unfinished life
and the poetry of John Berryman.
– Hoc Scripsi
February 13, 2011
Oh, what a weekend.
Every muscle making a fist, the half muscles left my leg twitching and contracting, expanding in rapid succession; spasm is what I am talking about but wording my way around.
Listening to Fryderyk Chopin – Nocturnes, Op. 15: No. 3 in G Minor at present.
drinking well made coffee from a comic mug and helping my son write Valentines for his class and a special one for a special girl. He will unfortunately be ill for the party tomorrow. Poor kid.
I am leaving this post unfinished and later am going to take a muscle relaxer while I sit down at my typewriter and write my fellows – return the letters received, work on my newest poetry, and try to start writing a play for Theater Undreground [sic]. I know the play I want to write, I’ve been thinking about it for years, and they’ve asked several times, the least I can do it try.
You’ve seen this one before unless you haven’t – I think it fits in with Jingles newest theme so I will place my name there as well.
Tired and no excuse to be so.
Let the coffee flow, flow, flow and the cigarettes smoke curl in query marks, curl into hearts, curl into clouds of what children lay and witness.
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3 poems fitting harmoniously together
1
third rate diner
writing poems on
paper napkins;
inadvertently blowing my nose into
the most recent.
2
modern medicine
modern medicine is/was always a marvel
no matter the year
until we need for the end
then it’s simply horrible.
3
loving
such good loving
such good nurturing,
such good loving,
such good fucking.
– Hoc Scripsi
January 20, 2011
I didn’t mean to take a nap yesterday
It’s god damned cold outside – or rather, in my garage where I am writing this at a little after one in the morning. I can often be found out here in the wee hours of the morning when I can’t sleep, simply, I can smoke out here. I suppose I could in the house but I detest the smell over everything and care about the lungs of the members of my family.
I took two showers today for no other reason than it was the right thing to do.
I keep tinkering with a few lines and haven’t been able to decide what I want to do with them, maybe they are no good but I am attached to them these past few days.
there always is the undertow of violins, violas
played by the fingers of aireven around the smoothest of lakes
in the quietuses of night.(hoc scripsi, unfinished)
It pleads for more but I can’t think of it. I like it enough that I don’t wish to regard it to the pile of unfinished and stuck poetry which is getting large. Going through today to organize last years efforts I couldn’t find my original typewritten copies of nearly everything I wrote last year – such distress! Nearly in a panic I located it filed about three files away from where it should have been – such relief!
BTW, now all of my past posts have been labeled and can be found in groups (where that applies) at the bottom of the page, at least until Rabbit redesigns everything and I no longer know where shit is around here, like when K cleans everything without my being around; I get lost.
I think I have decided to break up last years efforts into a few (read two) different chap books. So I am going to start the deal of submission and rejection and hopefully acceptance eventually. I like the idea of something smaller and cheaper that may be easier to digest. For the paper impaired (I’m looking at you Patrick) I will insist that they also be available in an e-reader format or just do it myself and split the proceeds with whoever publishes. Any Suggestions? I don’t expect that they’ll be available this year as I am still trying to place many of them in journals and online and they will need tinkering and such, but this is now in the thought process.
okay I am a bit scattered tonight and it’s taken me about an hour to write this and fuck around on the internet a bit (no porn though, don’t worry my love).
the platitudes of willful resemblance 