tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66360202024-03-08T09:03:21.504+10:00pelican dreaminglater he would walk down to the lagoon to look for the pelicansmark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.comBlogger1149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1143208582059839282006-03-24T23:55:00.000+10:002018-09-22T10:32:18.371+10:00moved to
gamma waysmark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142743382769961592006-03-19T14:41:00.001+10:002018-09-23T15:30:43.602+10:00A post-ultimate postMy thanks for the comments, posts & emails.
I have no intention of leaving the ethereal world. It's just that I felt I wasn't giving the pelican the commitment it deserved. Magritte will continue, I'll probably post to As/Is, & I'll probably start a new blog sometime, but at a less frenetic pace. The Blogger Dashboard tells me this is the 1768th post in these two years. That's an average of 2½ mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142594455582767122006-03-18T09:58:00.000+10:002018-09-27T09:25:49.236+10:00A farewell hay(na)ku
After exactly two
years as
a
battery
hen, I
have decided to
let the Pelican
find a
home
on
the free
range. Occasionally I
might
go &
collect her eggs.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142565369404666242006-03-18T07:07:00.000+10:002018-09-26T17:39:48.869+10:00Pen ultimate - a thank youFlirting
for Eileen Tabios
So the distances are Galatea
and one does fall in love
CHARLES OLSON: The Distances
It is a dance in two
parts. Is ritual.
Pop song from the
Forties. A trip to the moon.
The bull, the matador.
Dance, ritual, death.
Whose death? A las
cinco de la tarde.
Usually the bull. Sometimes
the matador. Provocation
can have unexpected results.
A procession of flagellants
mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142555957564208452006-03-17T22:36:00.000+10:002018-10-05T06:44:25.429+10:00I am listening to the double-CD of the Modern Jazz Quartet's final concert, recorded at the Lincoln Centre in November 1974. They have always been one of my favourite groups, a composite in many ways of the things that move me in music, beyond music. They're a major part of my continuum, a nexus that brought together Bach & bebop, that swung like all hell, very laid back but also very structured,mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142564579731127392006-03-17T13:01:00.000+10:002018-12-09T08:13:46.316+10:00A new issueof Moria is up.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142504290461278952006-03-16T20:17:00.000+10:002019-02-02T00:00:08.027+10:00Today the
postman brought
me the snows
of yesteryear
but they had
melted before
they got to me.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142459254545002212006-03-16T07:44:00.000+10:002018-09-25T07:12:24.115+10:00wonderful, wonderful things
at nonlinear poetry.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142412883419165722006-03-15T18:51:00.000+10:002018-09-28T20:10:13.124+10:00
Event-
ually
I
hit
the
wall
mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142412463489380732006-03-15T18:42:00.000+10:002018-10-09T20:02:12.192+10:00
passive
active
mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142319888844428442006-03-14T17:03:00.000+10:002019-12-17T09:42:49.719+10:00hisstorymark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142319800340056352006-03-14T16:57:00.000+10:002018-09-29T08:49:41.756+10:00herstorydisenfranchisedmark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142308930622240782006-03-14T14:01:00.000+10:002018-10-05T20:15:38.001+10:00a p.s.or,
perhaps, a
Biro de change.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142258256719379722006-03-14T00:05:00.000+10:002018-10-04T08:17:40.056+10:00The Dharmasekar ficcioneWhen asked
why he had followed
this
particular pursuit, Sunil
Dharmasekar, pre-
eminent amongst
modern Tantric sages,
attributed it to
the invention & subsequent
mass production
of the ballpoint pen.
"I was young &
naif," he said. "Until
the age of twenty-
three I did not know
that the appendage be-
tween my legs had a
purpose beyond
exuding fluids. I
taught myself
to curl it over a
quill mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142144649413052742006-03-12T16:23:00.000+10:002018-09-19T09:02:31.038+10:00Fiddling
with the
keys on
the dark
porch I
managed
to lose
the poem
that had
found me
halfway
through my
walk home.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142142242091750962006-03-12T15:39:00.000+10:002018-10-05T08:46:22.602+10:00It's the weekend.I
should have
been grooming the
pelican. Spent time
with Magritte
instead.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142564830361938612006-03-11T21:53:00.000+10:002018-10-05T21:33:45.620+10:00I always wanted to do something with/to this
but never got around to it.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142072714985425882006-03-11T20:23:00.000+10:002018-09-11T06:38:20.766+10:00Words & Imagesmark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1142054334001238442006-03-11T15:16:00.000+10:002018-10-06T08:01:39.536+10:00for Eileen Tabiosterse
          terser
                    tercet mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1141970719526275362006-03-10T16:04:00.000+10:002018-11-01T12:01:57.968+10:00A new issueof Word for /Word is out.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1141726709475859052006-03-07T20:07:00.000+10:002018-11-01T10:14:03.795+10:00Night SoilErnesto Priego has a post called Night Soil over at Never Neutral. But judging from the tone of the piece - a note (a) as to how he's got an eye infection & (b) how he's enjoying reading Sean Finney's The Obedient Door - I don't think that what he means by the term is what I mean when I use it.
In my very early childhood, younger than six, the town where I lived had neither sewerage nor septic mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1141630823170986062006-03-06T17:38:00.000+10:002018-11-01T13:55:30.836+10:00Last week the
postman brought
me a letter
from The Church
of The Over-
looked Epilog
saying that, once I
gave my consent,
I would be
canonized on
the basis of
the miracles
my poetry
had wrought. They
gave chapter &
verse — verse
anyway. How
one of my poems
recited incessantly
for seven days
& seven nights
had fended off a
plague of locusts
in Sub-Saharan
Africa. How another,
printed out & mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1141375164865604682006-03-03T18:35:00.000+10:002018-10-31T06:47:59.091+10:00some quackpoet dialog for harry k.Hammer (Groucho): ... Now here is a little peninsula, and here is a viaduct leading over to the mainland.
Chico: Why a duck?
Hammer: I'm all right. How are you? I say here is a little peninsula, and here's a viaduct leading over to the mainland.
Chico: All right. Why a duck?
Hammer: I'm not playing Ask-Me-Another. I say, that's a viaduct.
Chico: All right. Why a duck? Why a--- why a duck? mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1141258815829441812006-03-02T10:17:00.000+10:002018-10-30T11:55:56.254+10:00Just upTom Beckett's interview with Shanna Compton at e-values.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6636020.post-1141169931086279832006-03-01T11:15:00.000+10:002018-03-17T07:29:45.462+10:0011.15 a.m.It is day.
It is dark.
The clouds
are so low I have pinned them to the clothesline
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to   keep   them   here.   I   like   it   like   this.mark younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10012564789159816002noreply@blogger.com0