tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403Sun, 22 Nov 2009 17:01:30 +0000are you honest when nobody's looking?http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)Blogger2271125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-4195973969920265023Fri, 20 Nov 2009 05:49:00 +00002009-11-20T00:49:00.283-05:00I don't like these drugs anymoreGreely Myatt, I gotta learn to talk (detail), 2006Opus 21 -- by William KloefkornHow satisfying to have gone to a concertfeaturing someone now famous you have brokenbread with. There was music, too, in the wayshe lifted her fork to her mouth, music in the forkthat delivered the music that was the foodto sustain her. I meanwhile hum alongwith the breeze that plays http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dont-like-these-drugs-anymore-greely.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-6913428295274768882Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:08:00 +00002009-11-19T09:36:36.444-05:00it's nice to be liked but it's better by far to be paidCao Fei, A Mirage, 2004* Aaron Leitko takes a look at the Twitter account of Matador Records' Chris Lombardi.* "I never think of the future - it comes soon enough." -- Albert Einsteinhttp://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-nice-to-be-liked-but-its-better-by.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-527322437099891713Wed, 18 Nov 2009 05:46:00 +00002009-11-18T00:46:00.719-05:00the infrastructure rotsand the owners hate the jocksCarol Diehl, All These Things That I've Done, 2008Three poems by Frannie Lindsay:To NovemberHere you come before we have had any time to take our solemn coats our hats that itch back out of the naphthalene dark you glide as though you believed our gusty scarves and the flags of our breath were welcoming you here you come with nothing to love http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/infrastructure-rots-and-owners-hate.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-5858450686837881317Tue, 17 Nov 2009 06:16:00 +00002009-11-17T01:16:00.595-05:00r. stevie moorewhatcha doing for supperwhatcha doing to mewhatcha doing for moneywhatcha doing for freeAvish Khebrehzadeh, Theater, 2005/2006oil and gesso on canvas with video-animation projection * From Harpers' December 2009: -- Rank of politicians among classes of people most trusted by Chinese in a poll this summer: 25 -- Rank of peasants, clergy, and sex workers, respectively: 1, 2, 3 -- Percentage http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/whatcha-doing-for-supper-whatcha-doing.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-1463247812066390728Mon, 16 Nov 2009 14:10:00 +00002009-11-16T10:49:45.429-05:00r. stevie moorePuttin' up the groceries nowJust got back from MorristownBrad Moore, Ahern Rentals Westminster California, 2006* From "Praise to the Highways" by Roberto Bolano, translated by Natasha Wimmer. Praise to the Highways will be published in English next year by New Directions."All praise to the highways and to these moments. Umbrellas abandoned by bums in shopping plazas with white supermarkets http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/puttin-up-groceries-now-just-got-back.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-7277824406801751268Fri, 13 Nov 2009 05:40:00 +00002009-11-13T00:40:00.094-05:00We've got no good will, no good will to giveto those who try to take away what we need to livePhilip Koch, Bend in the Road, 1983New Habits -- by Barbara J. OrtonYou've made me your horse,and I don't mind.When you leave townat midnight, debts unpaidand a hard wind liftingthe dust out of your hair,I'll take up new habits:whisling, chewing my nails.Bank robbery's not so badwhen you think about http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/weve-got-no-good-will-no-good-will-to.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-2107809371379313966Wed, 11 Nov 2009 13:02:00 +00002009-11-11T08:50:21.623-05:00someone's selling all your heroesand it seems such a shameRosemary Luckett, Fake Forest (Waste), 2009Words from the Front -- by Ron Padgett We don’t look as youngas we used toexcept in the dim lightespecially in the soft warmth of candlelightwhen we say in all sincerityYou’re so cuteandYou’re my cutie.Imaginetwo old people behaving like this.It’s enough to make you happy.Bad Writing -- by http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/someones-selling-all-your-heroes-and-it.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-2157401403780493904Tue, 10 Nov 2009 14:33:00 +00002009-11-10T10:00:25.594-05:00what comes is better than what came beforeTanya Steinberg, the entombment, 2003* From a 1998 interview of Lou Reed:...NYROCKPerfect Night sounds like it’s one piece, one album. It’s almost hard to imagine that the songs span a period of over 30 years...____....LOU: Because I never cared for trends, that never bothered me. Music was what bothered me, what interested me. I always believed that http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-comes-is-better-than-what-came.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-5337356110378037685Fri, 06 Nov 2009 06:04:00 +00002009-11-06T01:04:00.416-05:00shine out in the wild kindnessGibby Haynes, Revelation, unknownPoems by Richard Brautigan:To England There are no postage stamps that send lettersback to England three centuries ago,no postage stamps that make letterstravel back until the grave hasn't been dug yet,and John Donne stands looking out the window,it is just beginning to rain this April morning,and the birds are falling into the http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/shine-out-in-wild-kindness-gibby-haynes.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-2470143663659872935Thu, 05 Nov 2009 07:03:00 +00002009-11-05T02:03:00.185-05:00How much fun is a lot more funJonathan Blum, Will It Be OK?, 2007* From a 1998 interview of Charles Simic. excerpt:J.M. Spalding: Could you talk about your early years and your life before you realized you were a poet?Charles Simic: Germans and the Allies took turns dropping bombs on my head while I played with my collection of lead soldiers on the floor. I would go boom, boom, and then they http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-much-fun-is-lot-more-fun-jonathan.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-104592459066473572Wed, 04 Nov 2009 05:42:00 +00002009-11-04T00:42:00.175-05:00Who can say where we're goingNo care in the worldMaybe I'm learningWhy the sea on the tideHas no way of turningMary Chiaramonte, Love + Hate, 2007Xmas Gift -- by Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997)I met Einstein in a dreamSpringtime on Princeton lawn grassI kneeled down & kissed his young thumblike a ruddy popehis face fresh broad cheeked rosy"I invented a universe separate,something like a Virgin"--"Yeshttp://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/who-can-say-where-were-going-no-care-in.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-7701725210657129553Tue, 03 Nov 2009 05:49:00 +00002009-11-03T00:49:00.479-05:00I walk through the heatherUnderneath the skyThe leaves have never looked as goodAs now they're going to dieT. V. Santhosh, Bitter Lessons II, 2009* Can you believe it? The Redskin's vendors are selling beer in the men's room at FedEx Field. excerpt:"But then last weekend, the same guy who posted the shot a year ago put a video of FedExField’s head hawkers on YouTube. Commenters again chimed http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-walk-through-heather-underneath-sky.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-3556411005482916481Wed, 28 Oct 2009 04:05:00 +00002009-10-28T08:36:17.510-04:00all I want in life is a little loveto take the pain awayArshile Gorky, The Liver is the Cock’s Comb, 1943Progress Report -- by Leonard NathanThe trees won't talk; but we've got instruments To get the truth. Old omens of the air Mean birds are hungry, here as everywhere, And speak, if forced to, in present tense. This took eternity and some expense To verify. Gods, never really there, Reduce to http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/all-i-want-in-life-is-little-love-to.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-3209891956028254918Tue, 27 Oct 2009 04:10:00 +00002009-10-27T04:28:05.713-04:00r. stevie moorei like to stay homeand play guitar and play it backArthur Trees, Masked Children 110th Street, New York, 1969* From Harper's November 2009: -- Last year in which the unemployment rate in what is now Silicon Valley was as high as today: 1949 -- Percentage of fish sampled from 291 U.S. streams for a recent study that were found to be contaminated with mercury: 100 -- Percentage change duringhttp://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-like-to-stay-home-and-play-guitar-and.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-8910322865846579737Fri, 23 Oct 2009 05:15:00 +00002009-10-23T01:15:00.280-04:00r. stevie mooreIn the waking hours of some not too distant morningyou come walking barefoot to this cowl pulled mindselling yesterday's dreams wrapped in tomorrow's paperwhistling for a dog named kindness that you'll never findRob Sparrow Jones, Hardly Any Tiger Live in a Tree, 2009Clean, clean, clean -- by Linh DinhBelonging to the lower class, you’re expectedTo cater to the upper class’ lower bodily http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-waking-hours-of-some-not-too-distant.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-1703882240575033274Thu, 22 Oct 2009 05:01:00 +00002009-10-22T03:01:08.411-04:00r. stevie mooredo not fretthe bus will get you there yetJenny Holzer, In a Dream* Charles Bukowski, on writing on the computer (he started writing on a computer at ae 70):"There is something about seeing your words on a screen before you that makes you send the word with a better bite, sighted in closer to the target. I know a computer can't make a writer but I think it makes a writer better. Simplicity in http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/do-not-fret-bus-will-get-you-there-yet.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-3460588405414473448Wed, 21 Oct 2009 05:41:00 +00002009-10-21T02:30:03.476-04:00Sun shinesPeople forgetThe spray flies, speedboat glidesPeople forgetGirls smile... people forgetThe snow packs, the skier tracksPeople forgetThey forget they're hidingKeith Sonnier, Motordom, 2005, Neon, Argon & Fluorescent LightLost Sonnet -- by John AshberyThey grow up too fastthese days. Unassumingnessbecomes unwieldy, the woodsa place to walk from briskly.You say your cunning comportmentis http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/sun-shines-people-forget-spray-flies.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-3456790555044419427Tue, 20 Oct 2009 06:44:00 +00002009-10-20T14:20:06.775-04:00I am not your mapAlfred Gescheidt, Untitled, 1964Three for Tuesday:-- Isolation, by John Lennon-- Way Way Down, by Bill Fox-- I'll Sleep When I'm Dead (live), by Warren Zevon* "One doesn't have a sense of humor. It has you." -- Larry Gelbarthttp://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-am-not-your-ma-p-alfred-gescheidt.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-7663023932859444160Mon, 19 Oct 2009 04:50:00 +00002009-10-19T00:50:00.439-04:00r. stevie mooresomedays I feel my shadow is casting meHank Willis Thomas, I am a Man, 2009Bonus Monday Poem:Please Don't Queer My Redenbacher Moment -- by Denis MahaginSomehow, the dad who siredour media hoax, all robust and doe-eyed, reminded oneof a young John Irving in the absoluteprime of a shit storm ;and the Sheriff? Hell, a portly Lithgow was he, and wouldn't let itgo, he said, histrionically "oh, well http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/somedays-i-feel-my-shadow-is-casting-me.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-4492652619926588101Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:32:00 +00002009-10-16T08:53:26.037-04:00they say tomorrow will never arrivethough I've seen it end a million timesBrendan Murphy, one true feelingThe Natives Are Restless-- by Sandra BeasleyOf course you invited them in: faces paintedlike trick-or-treaters, carrying pointy spears.The youngest clutched his goat, the tallesther stack of bowls, and you had rooms to spare.They fill the house with song and drums;they show you the dance forhttp://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/they-say-tomorrow-will-never-arrive.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-2648665923797755492Thu, 15 Oct 2009 07:14:00 +00002009-10-15T03:14:00.601-04:00The seagull on the seeping sandCan die but never understandThe oil that festers on our shoreWill cast a stain for evermoreJulee Holcombe, Suburbios de Ciudad de Mexico, 2008* From David E. Brown's book, Inventing Modern America:"Atari, Pong, and Apple:"The more than $6 billion Americans now spend on video games every year started with the first quarter dropped into Computer Space in 1971. http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/seagull-on-seeping-sand-can-die-but.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-5982988454190863879Wed, 14 Oct 2009 08:07:00 +00002009-10-14T04:07:00.355-04:00Time will tell if these dreams are nearly factYigal Ozeri, Untitled, 2009, oil on paperLast Poem -- by Ted BerriganBefore I began life this time I took a crash course in Counter-Intelligence Once here I signed in, see name below, and addedSome words remembered from an earlier time, "The intention of the organism is to survive." My earliest, & happiest, memories pre-date WWII,They involve a glasshttp://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/time-will-tell-if-these-dreams-are.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-3600935736796367200Tue, 13 Oct 2009 04:03:00 +00002009-10-13T00:03:00.948-04:00Love is like a bottle of ginBut a bottle of gin is not like loveKeizo Kitajima, Studio 54, 1981* Tent City USA, by George Saunders:"A field study, in these Hard Times, of the Homeless (as observed in the H Street Encampment, Fresno, California). Being an examination of who they are, how they think, and what they do. ""Description of Study Area"It is difficult to convey the sobering effect of http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-is-like-bottle-of-gin-but-bottle.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-3143846199647146818Fri, 09 Oct 2009 06:08:00 +00002009-10-09T02:19:44.777-04:00Standing on the sea-weed waterSemen stains the mountain topsWith cocoa leaves along the borderSweetness sings from every cornerDaniel Johnston, It is what it is, 2008Three poems by Nicanor Parra (translated by Miller Williams):I Don't Believe In the Peaceful Way I don't believe in the violent wayI'd like to believe in something -- but I don'tto believe means to believe in Godall I can do isshrug http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/standing-on-sea-weed-water-semen-stains.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3919403.post-5594302958181208664Thu, 08 Oct 2009 08:20:00 +00002009-10-08T04:20:00.256-04:00a million milescould swallow up timeSara MacKillop, 10 in 12, 2002* Tube Bar prank calls:"In the mid-1970s, two young men, John Elmo and Jim Davidson (later known collectively as The Bum Bar Bastards, or BBB), began calling a bar named the Tube Bar which was located in Jersey City, New Jersey in Journal Square. The Tube Bar was owned by Louis "Red" Deutsch, and most of the time, Deutsch was http://falsedawn.blogspot.com/2009/10/million-miles-could-swallow-up-time.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (hackmuth)0