Article 8

The Trickster 

frankfurter ali on another bender 
landsberger alee ripping apart 
the establishment
by keeping dumb kids dumb
me hiccupping like a baby on 
an airplane
in a bad GROSZ painting
kress dreiss abandonplatz
stuck in the center of the ring
writ(h)ing another paper
on some dead banker’s life
or some dead crook
or the stork who thought it was 
an ostrich
or it wasn’t balls itch kidney
stone.

 duality’s sonic quality’s 
with language
gone gone gone 
to publish the WORLD
in rivermortis
dumb k’nooks who kill them/
selves because they cannot re/
make themselves
straight stout askaks
worshippers of dope fiend
dieties
magenta family /  cards in hand
tight holed holdups.

i miscalculated & the trickster
tripped me up again
broken egg
bad karma 
incendiary emotional boxing 
matches
the ultimate disconnection
of the self/conscious 
from it’s all ready disconnected self
the way back determined by 10% of what’s 
left of the bargain that’s been handed out
the long line shortened by the misinformed
uniformly barebacked jackasses. 
it’s as if part of my money
& part of my soul had been taken 
from me 
& part of that 
didn’t belong to me in the first place.

you can always feel the war 
inside you  /  around you
head caught in the meat wheel 
he knew so well 
the bright green flashes of BAUHAUS
dime stores
on dark rainy nights.

it’s a creepy feeling 
all those lights in the windows
loud numbers all lit up 
for an evening off the charts
searchers of our over-inhabited 
VEINS.
planters of papers & works
caught with their pants 
on
replaced by 
what-are-you-working-on towers of
babble 
drunk on their own punk linearity
in a world of dislocated cut-ups
these comfortably sober straight-toothed
cuties 
wearing their stiffness like a 
controlled bad trip.

those who solicit hugs from everyone
those who enjoy being cripples
those who will not bare responsibility
for their disabilities
ostriches who think they are swans
those who cycle on windowsetzbis.

recognizing the signs 
that might lead you to where you’ve 
always been 
these are the camps
we are  the concentrated 
the jawless & the jaded.

this is a repeat 
like a pattern of broken squares
on green up holstered seats
or the town/square /  PLATZ
or the seats themselves.

yet how does one describe the magnificent blue tailed bird
long lush black & white plumage / 2 foot wingspan / when one’s
sense of description is so limited / it’s like an appointment with breath
or a pocket full of rind / or the imagination as stale as a 55cent loaf of bread.

jump into the etching
jump into the itchy awverderse
the abandoned home   /  the advent of fascism 
where the inhabitants arrived & once left 
the infection & subsequent illness which occurs 
as the sun reappears
& the antics begin again 

who is that locked inside the outhouse?
@ Port o San 
where the ships freely come to SINK

AaBbC
when one thinks before the thought 
has occurred it increases / decreases the 
chance of chance      happening
the range is a wide divide    within a small segment 
of LARGESS 
captured & enraptured by 
the anticipation of cr(e)ating & altering
the scenario

the trickster
though rarely in attendance 
@ its own funeral    is   its own funeral

the singer is a rodent that takes credit 
for the cheese others provide for it

the trickster is
a singer
a rodent
a trap

a theory invented by itself 
(to please itself)
& others
who are not themselves
yet are     /    part & parcel of the trick

          hang on tightly to the seat of your pants 
                  you are going on a long dead-ending  ride
                        concurring events do not & never will correspond
                            the way a melting pot of languages in a
 suffocating train wagon   mingle    but nauseate the listener
                                     A POOR PRINCE CHARMING
   for whom alles ist festim griff fur eine sichere FA(h)RT

the glyphs of natura       @ work      @ play
       reliefs etched into stone facades
                 relief from the tedium of relief
                                     I    C    E
    graffitied into wunderbars  of fabricated cities
          that which can set us free or free from the multi-KULTURA immotopia  
                      in tandem
               in transit                            0N   target
     ugly massive temples  of torture                      fur Europa of learning & beef
                    moving onward to DAM(n)erstrasse
              mit keutchKAP 8191 
                                                            the variation fries & carrion water logic
            dunkin move in the danke            the melt fat fruche tragedy
                              (wedding)   >PHONO-GRAPHISCHE
         apololoter piscore                            erato   tragicas
      adentia tympana                                 kupkerstiche  allegoria
       as in unraveling  /    revealing  
         RHYTHM    excitement    animals    Thimbiris fillibus 
               cannas certatindice     utopia    
David und Saul baum hangen  the bacchanal  mit dem silen(ce)
       a grotesgue concert of monogram(er)ists such as Gerhard Altenbourg
                              epilepti(c) kerinnen    dudelsachspielender      heilage
         superaurerat  artem 
“sense of hearing beyond the ear to the soul & mind –
the invisible made visible”   mappencover wandernd   notes clefs
      to draw sound     the physical act of making music 
         bankeisanger  skreta  as the banker m(0)use zings das zong
                        komponist im produktion kompos 
                    vipbus bellyword anti – quariat palluselli   
closed down & gone  now Bollywood life-plus mini-mart

the lines between sanity anger restraint  /  a torture movie
  kidney bladder piss piss
the immersaufden outen
& occult

she chews the once wild fruit
the crunch her teeth make as she takes
       each slow bite
  is truly a CRISP sound
         the fields open 
  sometimes thlunk thlunk    
         but most times la lum ca lum
   @ highr or lower pitched intervals 
       really impossible to describe this sound / how the poem flows into it 
or it into the poem  > one hand 2 hands    down to the core 
        pulling the pieces off the last scrap of civilization’s sanity 
  the parting that drives most white folks crazy 
     or  my folks  / the scintillating act of sin  WIRTSCHAFT ICE
                      the killer commando fur KIM JONG un >
        the bags under her eyes becoming sacks >
     the simple inability to GIVE IN  ///////  
                                 even the perfect place has imperfections
       2 hearts in my chest
       2 irresponsibilites >  strangling the life out of each other 
              in a forest of wild yellow flowers & breaches 
                       young beech trees afly <
& there goes another wild sunset
behind yet another forgotten castle
in the town of WolfsBreath

when i thought about the possibility that you might either choke to death
or vomit your insides out this morning i calmly continued to eat my 
scrambled egg sandwich…the toilet was stopped up & i used a fork to take your 
giant turd out of its mouth…i saved the day again & the trickster laughed
as i swallowed myself still unfazed…yes i am the caregiver & the caretaker
yet i never take care to separate the clouds from the sun…you are this romantic notion of a quiet backyard…here there is too much knowledge & not enough foliage.