Missing a step on your facial escalator
A fleeting composition
as if your nostrils were interrupted for a brief message from your sponsors.
John's stretching through Stitzer's aviators
A brief light escaping between the leaves
olive green, hesitating
in a flicker of dissonant brows
waxing your face onto your mouths
rooted in sporadic photosynthesized academics,
The eye of your fast history
flipping Californian mountains, train stubs
and crazies, their roadside thumbs warring
entangled within a begger's glee,
a meditative gaze floating on my afternoon tea.
Glimpsing our duplexity
quadrilateral collateral
coloring my cities
pressing against the glass with a muted trombone
imagine waling in a washing machine
serenading your contented giggles
furiously haling their validity
when the sound cuts out
transition lost in transmission.
We, the bi
oh
logical sincerity of 'peek-a-boo' and 'hide-and-go-seek',
I duck and cover in this word cellar
where I ask us to find me,
drive right through my thumb
strutting amongst a garden inflating the pride of knik knaks
washed in artistry.
We'll echo about a clearing
where deforestation didn't phase us.
There's a year of silence in all that we've given trust.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
Typewriter days
Do you ever shiver your mind into your throat?
Feel the friction, turning your words to saw dust. The brain herbs ground to grain.
A shell of imposed impressions,
superimposed on the restless faces
haunting you in your lonely.
Not knowing how to shed the skin of days words,
or collapse from the embracing social sensation
contradiction.
Letting go, running go, collecting
pass
go,
The Magic Tollbooth let's you grow down with these words.
Loving anatomy not physiology,
loving your response to your reaction.
Following your footsteps walking on your hands.
As if the world can't see you blinding yourself with a table cloth, crouched in footy pajamas with that typewriter. Plinking away the stutters skidding scabs on your way.
Feel the friction, turning your words to saw dust. The brain herbs ground to grain.
A shell of imposed impressions,
superimposed on the restless faces
haunting you in your lonely.
Not knowing how to shed the skin of days words,
or collapse from the embracing social sensation
contradiction.
Letting go, running go, collecting
pass
go,
The Magic Tollbooth let's you grow down with these words.
Loving anatomy not physiology,
loving your response to your reaction.
Following your footsteps walking on your hands.
As if the world can't see you blinding yourself with a table cloth, crouched in footy pajamas with that typewriter. Plinking away the stutters skidding scabs on your way.
Monday, March 29, 2010
With Which He Appears
Passing whispers in descent
I’m drawn to the familiar crutch
A plastered scene
With which he appears
Laughter draws
It passes whisper in ascent
And occasionally winds
To judgment
I’m drawn to the familiar crutch
A plastered scene
With which he appears
Laughter draws
It passes whisper in ascent
And occasionally winds
To judgment
A Riot of Vanity
A Riot of Vanity
Lighting up your stomach,
Twirling in, the guttural approach
Pondering the, cerebral lavish
That peaked an hour ago.
Making an entrance
To a rager of cultural plagiarism
See the lights rise
In false borealis
Condensed Romance descending to the fervor of underworld bliss
uh tsss uh tsss uhtsss uhtsss
The sub woofers slicing sensation
their electric knife unleashing the spikes
Impaling judgment happily we erode
cutripcutripcutrip
Victimized by the dance floor
Beating our blood
Into our chest
shitshitshitshit
Asking to tell us
what we don’t have yet.
Lighting up your stomach,
Twirling in, the guttural approach
Pondering the, cerebral lavish
That peaked an hour ago.
Making an entrance
To a rager of cultural plagiarism
See the lights rise
In false borealis
Condensed Romance descending to the fervor of underworld bliss
uh tsss uh tsss uhtsss uhtsss
The sub woofers slicing sensation
their electric knife unleashing the spikes
Impaling judgment happily we erode
cutripcutripcutrip
Victimized by the dance floor
Beating our blood
Into our chest
shitshitshitshit
Asking to tell us
what we don’t have yet.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A Robot Performs Science
A Robot Performs Science
By any standard, it was an elementary discovery — the identification of the role of about a dozen genes in a yeast cell. But what made this finding a major breakthrough was the unlikely form of the scientist: a robot. In April, "Adam," a machine designed at Aberystwyth University in Wales, became the first robotic system to make a novel scientific discovery with virtually no human intellectual input. Robots have long been used in experiments — their vast computational power assisted in the sequencing of the human genome, for example — but Adam was the first to complete the cycle from hypothesis to experiment to reformulated hypothesis without human intervention. Interviewed after Adam's experiment appeared in Science, inventor Ross King argued that artificial intelligence had almost limitless scientific potential — and that a computer would one day make a discovery akin to Einstein's special theory of relativity. "There isn't any intrinsic reason why that wouldn't happen," he said. "A computer can make beautiful chess moves, but it'
By any standard, it was an elementary discovery — the identification of the role of about a dozen genes in a yeast cell. But what made this finding a major breakthrough was the unlikely form of the scientist: a robot. In April, "Adam," a machine designed at Aberystwyth University in Wales, became the first robotic system to make a novel scientific discovery with virtually no human intellectual input. Robots have long been used in experiments — their vast computational power assisted in the sequencing of the human genome, for example — but Adam was the first to complete the cycle from hypothesis to experiment to reformulated hypothesis without human intervention. Interviewed after Adam's experiment appeared in Science, inventor Ross King argued that artificial intelligence had almost limitless scientific potential — and that a computer would one day make a discovery akin to Einstein's special theory of relativity. "There isn't any intrinsic reason why that wouldn't happen," he said. "A computer can make beautiful chess moves, but it'
The Middle of Nowhere
I could find the middle of nowhere on my GPS;
the coordinates cognitive dissonance,
a scientific calculation
clever sadness sheds
with the precision of ambiguity.
Overcast lives give ghosts definition
while the horizon line seeps
into equivocation,
a generation of escapees
we've found truth in confusion.
the coordinates cognitive dissonance,
a scientific calculation
clever sadness sheds
with the precision of ambiguity.
Overcast lives give ghosts definition
while the horizon line seeps
into equivocation,
a generation of escapees
we've found truth in confusion.
Monday, March 15, 2010
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