1. aseaofquotes:

    Frank O’Hara, “Nocturne”

    (via kdecember)

  2. themeghanforbes:

    what is time made?

    ian mclellan davis & i try to answer that question in words & notes.

    typed & hand notated on fine paper; accordion bound.


  3. "Once we start talking in the classroom about the body and how we live in our bodies, we’re automatically challenging the way power has orchestrated itself in that particular institutionalized space. The person who is most powerful has the privilege of denying their body…Our romantic notion of the professor is so tied to a sense of the transitive mind, a mind that, in a sense, is always at odds with the body. I think part of why everyone in the culture, and students in general, have a tendency to see professors as people who don’t work is totally tied to that sense of the immobile body. Part of the class separation between what we do and what the majority of people in this culture can do (service, work, labor) is that they move their bodies. Liberatory pedagogy really demands that one work in the classroom, and that one work with the limits of the body, work both with and through and against those limits: teachers may insist that it doesn’t matter whether you stand behind the podium or the desk, but it does. I remember in my early teaching days that when I first tried to move out beyond the desk, I felt really nervous. I remember thinking, “This really is about power. I really do feel more ‘in control’ when I’m behind the podium or behind the desk than when I’m walking toward my students, standing close to them, maybe even touching them.” Acknowledging that we are bodies in the classroom has been important for me, especially in my efforts to disrupt the notion of professor as omnipotent, all-knowing mind."
    — from Teaching to Trangress by bell hooks (via tracydimond)
  4. sarahjeanalex:

    when someone says, ‘he’s right over there, but don’t look now,’ i never do.

    it is hard to gauge what people actually want versus what they expect from you.

    i try to be easy but i’m not.

    i try to be self-sufficient but i still seek validation from people i don’t trust.

    i try to be a grown woman but my mom is sending me a box of tea in the mail because she worries about me.

    i try not to think about a person who is far away but i think about him all the time.

    i think about everyone else too.

    we are lucky if we get one minute of quietness a day, and if we do, we never remember it.

    i only remember the talking that i watch other mouths make at me.

    i only remember the grime on the fingers of homeless people asking for change.

    i only remember shaking my head and wringing my hands.

    i only remember that i’m still comparing myself to the people who made fun of me in middle school.

    i only remember telling him to choke me because we would both like it. 

    i don’t remember the silence but i think it’s supposed to be that way.

    i reach for things after i notice they are across the room and i am too high to stand.

    i reach in general because once again i am in desperate need of attention.

    i categorize people into who i am avoiding and who i want to be the only person available for.

    luckily, there are very few people left.

    luckily, here we are.

    yes, i am falling asleep alone tonight.

    yes, i am here, how may i help.

    no, thank you.

    it’s true.

    you are the new you in my poems.

    (via blankslate)

  5. "a certain loudness"

    (Source: myshoesuntied)


  6. carolinecrew:

    This on repeat until I am off this goddamn farm.


    Notley & Timberlake.  This poem is really incredible & emotional & especially my last post about not wanting to appear “irreverent” is applicable here

    (via tracydimond)


  7. "

    Dance like you don’t care that you are the centerpiece of the world’s most expensive commercial.

    Dance like the apocalypse has been prophesied to coincide with your dancing’s cessation.

    Dance like you’re not insane, but you’re trying very hard to look insane enough to convince your observers that you’re not responsible for something awful they all know you did.


  8. "

    first glass broken on patio no problem
    forgotten sour cream for vegetable no problem
    Lewis MacAdam’s tough lower jaw no problem
    cops arriving to watch bellydancer no problem
    plastic bags of melted ice no problem
    wine on antique tablecloth no problem
    scratchy stereo no problem
    neighbor’s dog no problem
    interviewer from Berkeley Barb no problem
    absence of more beer no problem
    too little dope no problem
    leering Naropans no problem
    cigarette butts on the altars no problem
    Marilyn vomiting in planter box no problem
    Phoebe renouncing love no problem
    Lewis renouncing Phoebe no problem
    hungry ghosts no problem
    absence of children no problem
    heat no problem
    dark no problem
    arnica scattered in nylon rug no problem
    ashes in bowl of bleached bone and Juniper berries no problem
    lost Satie tape no problem
    loss of temper no problem
    arrogance no problem
    boxes of empty beer cans & wine bottles no problem
    thousands of styrofoam cups no problem
    Gregory Curso no problem
    Allen Ginsberg no problem
    Diane di Prima no problem
    Anne Waldman’s veins no problem
    Dick Gallup’s birthday no problem
    Joanne Kyger’s peyote & rum no problem wine no problem
    coca-cola no problem
    getting it on in the wet grass no problem
    running out of toilet paper no problem
    decimation of pennyroyal no problem
    destruction of hair clasp no problem
    paranoia no problem
    claustrophobia no problem
    growing up on Brooklyn streets no problem
    growing up in Tibet no problem
    growing up in Chicano Texas no problem
    bellydancing certainly no problem
    figuring it all out no problem
    giving it all up no problem
    giving it all away no problem
    devouring everything in sight no problem

    what else in Allen’s refrigerator?
    what else in Anne’s cupboard?
    what do you know that you
    haven’t told me yet?
    No problem. No problem. No problem.

    staying another day no problem
    getting out of town no problem
    telling the truth, almost no problem
    easy to stay awake
    easy to go to sleep
    easy to sing the blues
    easy to chant sutras
    what’s all the fuss about?

    it decomposes - no problem
    we pack it in boxes - no problem
    we swallow it with water, lock it in the trunk,
    make a quick getaway. NO PROBLEM.

    — No Problem Party Poem by Diane di Prima (via fuckyeahbeatgeneration)

    (via fuckyeahbeatniks)

  9. electronochuckyoung:

    from Light Boxes by Shane Jones


  10. "The first rule of poetry is honesty; the second rule is fuck you."
    — Alice Notely (via raze-occam)

    (Source: raze-spookem, via kdecember)


  11. normals:

    My Sears-Roebuck 1960 model heart has been in the shop a lot of late and here is another blow: Adam Shutz, the wry sophisticate who resembles one of the cast from the ’70s BBC show “UFO” is deserting Baltimore for even more gun-laden Texas to study with Tim O’Brien. Thusly and thrustly Artichoke…


  12. lazenby:

    On April 14th, 1919 the sister of Marcel Duchamp, Suzanne, married one of his closest friends, the painter Jean Crotti. Marcel’s wedding present to the couple arrived by mail three weeks later. It was a letter that contained a set of instructions for a work of art his sister and brother in law…



  13. Somer


    In fact ally the day
    today; illuminated
    inward like blood.

    See. No, I mean:
    eyes, the bodies
    behind the verb,

    they are micro-
    scopic like stars.

    Anchorage alit
    easy enough like
    Philly or Kiev.

    The sun:
    it’ll withdraw from
    the day soon enough.

    The day:
    an ally in fact.

    oh hey lookit





    Our microchap contest, judged by Joseph Young, opens in 5 days!

    Read about it on HTMLGiant: http://htmlgiant.com/random/attn-ink-press-productions-summer-micro-chap-contest-2014/

    I cannot wait to read!


    (via nothingnewnews)