February 28, 2013

desnos told them that their future was glorious.  and they loved him for it.  they were somehow spared.

i told him the story of robert desnos reading the palms of the women waiting to die.

February 27, 2013

i tell him the whole story.  gogol's slow suicide.  his last words, a ladder, quick, a ladder!

February 26, 2013




dr. hans prinzhorn makes me look
at these pictures two hours a day.

February 25, 2013

February 23, 2013

video
    

a picture in a book became a movie on a train.
                                         

February 22, 2013

February 21, 2013







it was only through the movies did i finally see what some people called life.

February 19, 2013


    i remember taking pictures of women
   on the beach one summer.  1947.

February 18, 2013

video
                           
                                                       i danced to the wrong music once. 
                                                       they played the wrong music.
                                                       and i danced to the wrong song.

February 17, 2013

sometimes i feel as though things are going through me or i am going through them.

fire breather.  yellow springs, ohio.  1936.

February 16, 2013

no.  but i was always a big fan of memory.  what else is there?

you never believed in dreams.  you never believed in truth.

dreams are always cheating truth in mine.  i get little out of them.

 artifice is always cheating truth in my dreams.    

February 15, 2013

our first tryst.  a waiting place.  in my dreams.

February 14, 2013

the corner of walton and westwood.  green neon across the street.

February 13, 2013

i am still on the boat with williams and arp.  it makes me blue.  good night, my love.

adele, i need to see you.  we are on a train in the past now.  where am i getting your messages from?

we can lose ourselves in that space.  we've always been able to lose ourselves in that space.

February 12, 2013

video


i see myself diving.  it is a memory.  this is not an hallucination.  the space between
the board and the water is our space.  i consider it to be our space.

February 11, 2013

seizing and missing opportunities are conjectures from some dime-store rags.

he remembers it another way.  always looking out the back door.  there is no conceivable now.

while it was happening, it was already a memory.  i remember it one way.

i gave him the opportunity on a silver platter.  he was lucky to get it.  i don't think he would get it again.

February 10, 2013

it was a lucky punch.  i really didn't feel a thing.

i never saw it coming.  i never knew what hit me.

February 9, 2013

February 8, 2013

the red whisper of a dancer.  the melancholy of transience.

February 7, 2013

rows of letters, which i remember vividly, across an ornate ear, which i don't.

February 6, 2013

more messages that i do not recognize about tomorrow.

February 5, 2013

writing has been creeping in on the visions.  next time there will be more.

February 4, 2013

arthur, i show you everything.  i can't bring it up now.  i will show you when it comes.

adele, i want to see the barn.  show me the barn in nebraska.

February 3, 2013

video
                                           
                             the only music coming from a record player in a barn somewhere in nebraska.
no one speaks in these hallucinations.  the parrot is mute.  

February 2, 2013

rectangles within rectangles.  boxes within boxes.