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Carla Blaschka Jun 2016
Rewound
                             [re-‘wow’nd]
Replay

Rewound
                             [re-‘woo’nd]

The mind’s eye a constant projector.
Throwing up memories I would rather forget
How many times does one have to be
*****, rejected and fragged
before the tape fades and breaks
and past events stop projecting my future.

When do I get to see the light?
That pure white light
The light that passes through NO thing.
A blank slate that waits for me
to reinvent and reimage a past

without those memories

The memories that hold my future back
and my present hostage

When will the tape run out
And return to me my life?

When will it return my dreams?
My future?
When will it say “The End?”
3/19/2011
Coneys, that they Breed succulent for Stew
Break this Measure from their Kind populate
As such with my Heart; Bred moments for you
Learn to Love my Mortal Self abdicate
Why this Fragged Lesson chose these Ducts to Weep
When Frilliment's Time corks better with Age
Subtracting your Smile; Which Bisanity deep
Extracted a Loony from that of a Sage
Tripe, it seems, that my constricting Decide
To leave my Bells ringing for your Enrouse
Such god you are; Deaf to Heaven's subside
And Dive past Sentimentals to your House.
And what House it was deserving as Home
Twill bet you prefer my Mouth shouts alone.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
my derelict third year in the drone:
a way to assuage what it feels to

function. to breathe mechanical air.
the rambunctious scent of morning appears

ill, confabulated, lysergic at most.
ladies in lithe dresses pose for pressing scenes.

taken photographs held up in loose light.
pelvises unloosening, ****** on the thoroughfares

fishing for trout as men, men as flowers,
lackadaisical graffiti dropping like simian jaw

upon visions of thigh. everything signatures a suture
so precise like a repair of the lip,

or the rapture of birds in impossibly blue skies.
news was that a fortune was coming in,

and I slept within the masses; dreams deliberately
vandalized and fragged.

they said it would be
marvelous. they said it would not ****.

i see a woman
in her 20s. falling subtly, a gingham dress

sexed if not pullulated by flower-heads,
she said it would be darling

my third year in the machine.
**** EVERYTHING
alaric7 Jan 2018
America, loud, clear, obvious, imperial perfidy all embracing, but local Quakers oppose, college kids’ resistance, pre-My Lai inundated.  Saturated, drowned in futility, onlookers
at the far edge of war, a genocidal spectacle. Vietnam, marker and  scourge, a wound before we knew much of art or thoughtfulness, puzzled, concussed, chewed up.  Bodies, cities burning fell out of tvs, in black and white, NBC, CBS, ABC.  First mass incineration of another culture for our generation, introverted, autistic, active, angry, furious; image-immiseration in the holocaust of b52's soaring over that Asia America punished.  Age of conscious impotence, advanced corruption post JFK Umrica satrapy, pentagon techno-ghouls, tiger cage consciousness.  By necessity taught to shrug it all off, the dominant savage imperial real roaring up to this very present.  And he, known from grade school, uber-masculinized, marine corps, ground troops, he many small but comprehensive slaughters witnessed.  Soft sad lonely boy came back ram rod sharp, abrupt, angry, fragged somehow somewhere.  After a few years at pulp mill, took shot gun, blew his life away.  Sad terribly lonely hunter boy who dreamed of trapping and fishing only, in a far
distant cabin off the Sheep Lake road to the mountain called Old Glory.
Thomas Glennan Sep 2021
Peeking out under the rock on my back
It cripples me, and saves me from the pyre
Serving me as both a weight and a flak
Still fragged by shrapnel from overhead fire

O Tantalus, much more than a story
How greedy was he, grasping for a drink
Just treading water that's plenty for me
Deeper underwater I feel I shrink

Alone, I put the rock on my own back
Or rather, like a bug I crawled under
The light, often avoided in the cracks
For my sin and greed, there is no sunder

I cannot remove myself from my sin
I deeply need my god and savior
Without salvation I wear grossly thin
I should daily thank him for his favor

— The End —