Saturday, May 13, 2017

Scott MacLeod

Ian Breakwell - Episode in a Small Town Library, 1970

Ian Breakwell - Episode in a Small Town Library, 1970
pansemic playhouse 2- 07.27.11

jim leftwich, Breeething


Write it take is. Relation he is roof out in the open. Is identity word since the word.

Otherwise take open various rat lakes in Detroit the wise old river to otters binding hands system the future of information writing. In the beginning the curves the word out.

In the beginning it carves the word out. Legs has to is tooth. Legs has two is tool. The means of open script as may be this sentence. From the image to the is in images. So we wear the word leg and recline in its rectitude, hieroglyphic ladders written as vowels in verbs. We are the leg and what it reads in the lattice verbatim.

Owl owl goose cake water water hand face owl owl owl sheaf mouth road legs waiting.

Owl neck cake water water water rope face reed wheat cup hand mouth in the presence of death coming in on a wing and a prayer.

Howling wolf in a tree pumpkin variation phallus of wheat cup road eye waiting.

In the presence of glyphs draw ejaculating owls. Eyes in the real. Mouth in the pictures. Legs in the words. Coming forth in charades his empty soup. Coming forth in the presence of stylized models.

Knocked down apartment as then one just a Lord in a car years finger. This is the book. Cultivated the yard and has been taken to a spacious relic.

Comb the wings whole.

Knocked out loaded as then one just a Lord in a car years finger this book.

Floods diet is nothing mechanistic death is fingers in an inner splitting. Is mulebread like a virus within. Burns stuck against shins at a time on notice.

Street forward street looks showering cigarette smoke. Intercut flowering phoneme stumbles and nipped shouting weak. Leaping fire barricades is in the letters.

Trusted sermons garden foments expedition energy through alogical glyphvirus whenever the lasting fire in the hand was master of the fortress. Following a distant virus into the letters as a guest of poetry.

Freezing at sorcery to the noon light of urge. Who gardens, transported, it winters virtually music. Winter is the mung bean seeping into the sea. It raises thought to the ruins of thought.

Trained for opening students as a text. Have been subsequent each year. Cooked music in a box of rugs. The loud church in the cold winter. A legend could refrigerate the night.

Performance of peace. A strange pie map and a film of intelligence destroying the combs and toes.

Devices spreading pies. Pirate formula, mixtures of armadillo, heavy with pages of copper. Temperature driving forward into the pie-formula.

He has control and terminal three. Partners come into terminal two. He knows the terminal one. Where this is simple... where they mount a situation... yourself to control... agents fire a knife... teeth hanging in the hand... an open entropy of generosity... genes seep into the sea... control the fingers... cannot control the arms... soaking the germs in a hashish lake... opponents are taken up against their reach... respect the shoes if necessary...

jim leftwich

Friday, May 12, 2017

jim leftwich, trash-balancing in the playhouse,
pansemic playhouse 938 -- 07.05.2014
jim leftwich, pansemic playhouse 1002 -- 09.03.2014

William Carlos Williams, from Asphodel, That Greeny Flower
My heart rouses
  thinking to bring you news
    of something
that concerns you
  and concerns many men.  Look at
    what passes for the new.
You will not find it there but in
  despised poems.
    It is difficult
to get the news from poems
  yet men die miserably every day
    for lack
of what is found there.

4 pomes || Billy Bob Beamer

Saturday, May 12, 2012

4 pomes || Billy Bob Beamer

POMEret’urnth dan ce
mul don’t liver arc.on e\/’

|etu de:ostcoe isn’t
valim .,’ium[][ ™t
isn’t un€™t\
su™gh ert€™
mep’;[ €minb

POMEsho rt
hoy tubo correction yice o vel eiction  m o w
roperp ba lro n tlursue te nou twra t mo sicu
yiz ar e nout plain wra t bere  av   ed rin salal
gove binnre  formand deme aognad sha  stot
roperp ba lro n tlursue te nou twra t mo si  cu
bucaf                         din                      forttend

Sho[r]tPOME for M
†  â€“  Tony’s i “A FIT ULL
 OPIN”ition ast undon’s notu rniin
ng ) crewe ione wentre opres af terma
 thof awe stern sty l “shown†si
-ng pin-fill..

TA LKKlat ter
“[talk” fear ra b heura
“[ta“l[kit“[t alk” dark
Al k“[tal“k[t“[ta“[talk”
alk” stro gothic
kak ogra phy
ak” evi dent ialor
der  firepins
k” blup stone natio
nbring bride
    force ‘blurtubrusb
lunt secess ion’
lk” symbolic tream en
generator sees
“[talk”    K “ “

[note from the author: 

here are 4, previously pub in ex ex lit, and critiqued by john pursch [in 2012] as ''more great viewing from bill beamer''

jim leftwich, ephemeral assemblage

jim leftwich, ephemeral assemblage,
pansemic playhouse 909 -- 06.11.2014

jim leftwich, temporary assemblage

jim leftwich, temporary assemblage,
pansemic playhouse 906 -- 06.11.2014

Thursday, May 11, 2017

baron - nexall parks

baron and leftwich - chair noises

 baron and leftwich - chair noises #2a

baron and leftwich - chair noises #8a

two visual poems by marco giovenale

fragment 2

of off

Steve Dalachinsky -- army (for m.j.)

army (for m.j.)

sowing out of time
the duck
a quack if ever
drained of its etoms
a lol ogy gone wild
in these tamed waters

tired from pulling the levers in his sleep
a young swan
beds down for the night
the choice he bet on still
a bet away

each season is out of
place this
grain like the two lips in the movie
tonight that weren't yours

other creatures are fed by the keeper's
hand tho the keeper acts like other creatures
born here to this pond
a LAGOON more like it
unmasked the mask worn as the mask is
worn frayed about the edges
the ties that bind it to the

within reason the carbon hark
dying beast & this love
a jagged rock at the edge of water
speaks of extinction as only a "solid" can

army follows army
into the waiting stench
the coming growth
army wading thru feed toward
the SAG -

parm la lazit prasm opti- aut a bout

gone round again &
round a n other cycle

John M. Bennett lasti mar & Soot

 John M. Bennett lasti mar

John M. Bennett Soot

jim leftwich and john m. bennett

jim leftwich and john m. bennett,
pansemic playhouse 895 -- 06.05.2014

jim leftwich, poem-object

jim leftwich, poem-object,
pansemic playhouse 896 -- 06.05.2014

jim leftwich, trashpo score for a minimalist sound poem

jim leftwich, trashpo score for a minimalist sound poem,
pansemic playhouse 904 -- 06.10.2014

Jim Leftwich -- Ann Buchanan: Night Reflects Blinking Expectations

Ann Buchanan: Night Reflects Blinking Expectations

Emotion those crevices or spells, independent method already always away and everready, the tears that compounded Ann Buchanan, which into the swelling wellsprings roil down the dawn followed by the bottom of night. At pinpoint of musical cheek-quiver, directly at the unborn Ouroboros, slight eyelids reflect the images of the minute. Arises inspired and connected dripping refrains from blinking, modular along the camera lingers chin, becoming deeply decided. Although the expectations of teeth waffle to wax and mucus in striped fire as a sea, in that this is a thousand thoughts per minute, we are more playful because of the camera than we were before the Beat writers socialized our silences. Any encounter with affect is seen as mythic experience. Films are machines for generating attempts at witnessing (the wings and nests of) optical songs of the variegated self. Vagaries of dissent result miraculously in uncanny lights. Blinking fires the portrait, fires the permit, fires the facts, the audience is on fire, fires the response, a multiplicity of works and nothings out smoking on the fire escape. Static inexhaustibility, the books cohere in the acts of unified paper, construct socks and mad suits foreclosing serial reference, unpredictable notions of a mischievous praxis, the slurp of its subtext slapping against a reef. Music not yet sleeping in the frequent facts and epic shift, watch quite cheek halfway heroically weep, in something the reporter describes as "appeared elusive tests" (the crest or crust of Elusinian pears). Bohemian with summer, apartment model on the road and eventually in the factory (1964), the strain of widening doom in chosen teeth, like the shock of a beautiful fact. Shadows are similar. This followed neatly the eye rolling, rolling like a pair of dice across the pavement to abolish chance. Never the broken cadence into a shipwreck or two, bubbles in the cave of the imagination. Fever magic of the spoon was a Beat wash nesting in glazed tones and mosquitoes of the floating world. It was a piano fried in territorial drive with thought-mattresses of an insidious spring. Standing in a trunk of milk with portable memoirs. The sea beyond the melody tempting until dusty. Coaxed living candles with minor church and barn. Shifting, unraveling, stitched walking country roads. Poetry magazines arrived like hats in the canyon. Many stories are gone, left to their several histories.

jim leftwich

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Steve Dalachinsky - 3 Collages

Steve Dalachinsky, tilling the air (eating dream)

tilling the air  (eating  dream)

articulate complaints
de party  insults
re: leaf

tables alarm edibles
edible muted sleep   (others)
exhaust (fumes) open
multitudes din  smoking lobby
separate race flounders

desisn   <0> 1 (9) 2 other      repeating count –
habit   various shells squeezed young herbal gloss
hard-of-seeing sour scowl  while missed appetite

brook goes strangely adlib unfamiliar
yrarbil – frequent stranger debunked

away print
smharb unique textiles     text  styles
tiled mosaic against grave  seriopus pen
appalling  thief transpires rickety
m(other)  -   appear  weak   week   collection
glared   hard furious

uncover   =   take  off
recover    =   put    on

bathe   re frain be   tray  s(tale) late  e  mit
flush precise stub toward unnatural death
within the parent mill
vile nt          e labor   ate    emit time
immerse weight
scowl sour
scowl sour

curly cropped  miden
bathing born astonished
munching feline stew
g(r)aze greys   grZE  grays

confused   lost  scuttled
curly cropped denim
immersed weight mined  
up hold story
upholstery  sheets choice     alc  dov tis
elom        elom     articulate and mol(e)ded
peril   formed too late   u tu late

born astonished.

             10/12-13/04  partial scramble lynne tillman reading at bklyn public library  decoded  at home

John M. Bennett, Bloom Dry

John M. Bennett, photos

John M. Bennett at Gautier's house, May 2017
photo by Cathy Bennett

John M. Bennett, Paris cemetery photo

John M. Bennett, emblazed


I seem to grime when
listpening foam when
chisels part my skull I
thin to rhyme my
crippled faucet with its
drain of sand your face
your bowl your stone
rolling in the stomach
named your bomb
,it's nor it it's what
jets out was writhen
on the wall but in
inside out

jim leftwich, 5 visual poems

Tuesday, May 09, 2017

Stan Brakhage, Eye Myth by Jim Leftwich @ ARTEDOLIA

Stan Brakhage, Eye Myth
Jim Leftwich
May 2017

14 visual poems by bill beamer

Monday, May 08, 2017

Scott MacLeod, POMARINE JAEGER (2017)

Scott MacLeod


On the Arctic coast near Barrow, Alaska in 1952, Pomarine Jaeger is female.

On the Arctic coast in areas of small lakes and meandering rivers almost anywhere.

The stagnant clouds, the pools of fouled water, bluish spirals of smoke disappear in the stink of an eye.

On the Arctic coast, Pomarine Jaeger is in a hollow sort of depression.

In summers usually brief.

The wind shakes our patience, irritates us and makes us feel weightless.

Devours us.

The spell is broken, is always momentary, though no less cause for concern.

Pomarine Jaeger lacks song, and copulation is yet to occur.

Reality disappears every few minutes, soon reappears but without language.

Neither silence nor a voice on the motionless surface, one day and the next always momentary.

The remains of what must have been, rotting away: cigarettes, matches, condoms, incense, sweets, prayers, holy images and other trinkets, baubles; random fantastic shapes in perpetual motion, howling in semidarkness in the throne room.

Sky of the lame and the crippled as though they were cages.

Pomarine Jaeger sees the error in the light.

We are inclined to doubt Pomarine Jaeger.

These comments are made even though we have, ourselves, such behavior.

Usually silent, narrow or even nonexistent possible consequences: all sorts of gestures and gesticulations and obsessions, fallen to pieces; and beheadings: eroticized, concrete, hallucinatory and untranslatable, overflowing with rubbish and muteness.


Copulation was observed after the second day and wandering in the vicinity, moves fast, hides well, and is no longer young.

The swaying of hips flinging itself over a precipice.

Pomarine Jaeger had what for the flat tundra terrain was a relatively generous figure.

Pomarine Jaeger is prevented hearing any soft notes before copulation.

Pomarine Jaeger resembles fragmentary accounts and did not utter cries.


The mountain has ejected a fiery meteor of semen accumulated over centuries.

The sensation or the name of the sensation unweaves us, encases us in an uncertain haste to reach what we can call our own.

At the center of the liquid surface: shadow, silence, silence.

Unsuccessful efforts to find the found.


Both hands.

An upraised axe.

Nothing is happening.

Our phrases begin to fall into line one after another.

A vision of the offering paralyzes them, disappears, will never fall.

In the rubble of the abandoned ice mansions, two young boys raise a little flock of black sheep.

They do not understand language yet they vibrate, alive with sparse, sun-scorched visions, mental meadow-carpets of desire, innocent kingdoms of animal copulation.

The corpse of Pomarine Jaeger is being followed by endless pitch-black shadows of ears, ankles, groins, necks, breasts, finger nails.

This corpse lurching back and forth on the rutted sled-track begins to stir again.

We note that without exception only the female error is perpetuated in the lower latitudes.

The female alone broods.

Another sound emerging from Pomarine Jaeger’s mouth.

Syllables fallen from the firmament onto the ice, to form another chimerical body of specters, as in a poem.

Aerial roots, descending, become empty reflections suspended in reflections.

Every incandescent language in the throat like the beginning of twilight partially in ruins, the remains still fresh and moist, like a fountain of sperm or a single drop of sweat.

These words that I am writing are buried in the verbal subsoil.

Here on this page, we make our way inside, as though we were walking inside ourselves.

The lamps go out and dawn staggers, far removed, always way over yonder.

Recourse against this distance would be neither a translation nor a journey towards meaning.

Something is missing.

A text has neither a beginning nor an end.

Pomarine Jaeger opens

Sunday, May 07, 2017

jim leftwich, "asemic writing" / "spirit writing" LAFT 39, 1997

jim leftwich, "asemic writing" / "spirit writing" LAFT 39, 1997

also pansemic playhouse 897 -- 06.06.2014

a neoist chair in the pansemic playhouse, 04.11.2014

jim leftwich, pansemic playhouse 836 -- 04.11.2014

A Neoist Chair is nothing else than any chair with a sign: NEOISM. The sign is nailed to a rod and the rod is fixed to the chair. Any chair or anything that can be used to sit on can be turned into a Neoist Chair. The sign makes the difference.
The first Neoist Chair Action took place on May 22nd, 1979, in Montreal, at the corner of Sherbrooke and McGill streets. It was called "Monty Cantsin sits for a portrait" and introduced Neoism and Monty Cantsin to passers‐ by and the rest of the world. People were invited to sit on the Neoist Chair and have their pictures taken to be exhibited later as Monty Cantsin portraits. A few hundred flyers of a manifesto "LOVE LETTER" were distributed to passers‐by. The same manifesto has been also sent to correspondents all around the world. The event became known as the inaugural action of Neoism.
The Neoist Chair Action has become part of the regular demonstrations of Neoist daily rituals, mostly used as a propaganda vehicle to question the origin and purpose of the noncepts of Neoism and Monty Cantsin. You can become a Neoist and Monty Cantsin simply by sitting on a Neoist Chair.
No copy no right no reserve N.O. Cantsin no time less space

jim leftwich and bill beamer, pansemic playhouse 1250, 04.09.2015

jim leftwich and bill beamer, 2 pansemic playhouse sets, 10.09.2014

jim leftwich and bill beamer, 9 pansemic playhouse sets, 04.09.2014

jim leftwich, 9 visual poems