that first ice cold twist of the wind


Carl Andre, Lament for the Children 1976-1996, Concrete blocks (100 units), photograph shows original installation in 1976 at P.S.1., Long Island City


two by klipschutz, in expectation:

The Farce of Evil

Frist it was Rove
then DeLay then 
Scooter Segway’d
his way into
the shot
             Get Abram-
off my back is 
sore from carrying 
out ordures 
                  All the 
ooze that hardens sits
from plea to briny plea 
can’t keep the Humpties
straight 
            Frist it was 
Jeff Gannon (knee 
James Guckert) lob-
bing softballs Ari-ward
or was it Scott not
Helen Thomas that 
old Arab (said Ann 
Coulter) such a nasty 
piece of work 
                      Frist in the 
arse of his countryclub 
mum’s the word Turd 
Blossom Judy Judy 
Judy 
       (where’s a Cary 
Grant imperson hell 
does anyone remember 
even Gannon’s prob 
a bridge-of-memory
too far) 
            singing like
like like a Judybird
Coop Cooper flew the coop 
Scoop Novak put a mojo 
on us all and who
the muck is Scooter  
anyway you slice it 
rotten names fall out  
my mouth
                Frist Rove 
(ram, bling) swift-
boats Joe Wilson 
then Novak names 
the Plame—champagne!
then the cork goes
orbital then fingers
point then Nobodaddy 
takes the blame
(thou silent & invisible
from every searching 
eye)
       Enter Robo-Cheney
Ralph is that you Reed 
in water hot a person 
friend of Upstairs Man
can’t keep the Humpties
straight
            The Bush 
I’ve had my fill of  
can’t we go back to
before can’t we all  
just get fucked 
over and over 
and over again 
my friennnnd
                      and 
you don’t believe 
we’re on the All Hallows 
Eve of self-destruction

Pendulum's Progress
      
       the indictment edition

It used to be a scandal
Until it was a flap

First it was a mystery
Then it became history

Which is to say forgotten

Of a sudden it was back—
With a vendetta

Loose words on high 
In old familiar places

The cast includes 
-   a ferreter 
-   a flak

And the one we’d castrate if we could
-   a lying Cheshire sack

For now who skates from under it
(He built his conscience from a kit)
 

  --written in honor of Valerie Plame Wilson