- - MOVE COOL / CONSTRUCT BRIDGES - - (a poem for F.A. Nettelbeck)

" moths climb kitchen
,battered through
greasy heat "


yeah i've smoked crack cocaine, chasing hungry
ghost of bigblank bummer, burntlips, melt-
ing cheap plastic lighters, heavy heat &
hop-head hellfire, cough coughgh
couough confud, used or unused:
it's all gonna be okay, o.k.
,puff ff puff dust'dup painless, snuffing muff fuzz, or
more, canal surf wombfluid loose, (band-aid),
danger the dangerous, this mother a fucker of
luck, embryo debreathing, bind'd bytha blindness,
scenery : toss'd into thrown, bust'd rubbish
w/ redflag background, detain at border,

" fuck it " sucha beautiful phrase, let me
ejaculate all those holes, stain'd nibtip inkish,
as deep as death & as bright as birth,
less the mess, glue to cum, swumstuck in
curves, diving moist, feeling that feeling
of no feeling at all, ain't no words can
come close, to touch, to fuck it, again
againagain & again, never enough
as with that mirrormoth, silvery quick, turn'd
reverse, bolt'd thick w/ wrench, grease on
grinding gears & lubed to tooth,
m out h
,curse of fortunate failure, flunk such grade A,
loves to laugh, grinnin' inshit as if
nothin' left to lose done been already lost,
drivin' hellish hiway, keep tweek'd in
demon-dread, unlimit'd odometer, speedo
sweeps past the ton, MPH to who knows where

,thunderrumbles mile by mile, markmarkers, road
via roads, unpacking trackless maps, gasping
faster, (anywhere but here), bodybones trapt
in shitpiss, all outta toilets, drowning in drains,
bash'd in brain, washin' away deepdirty bloodbath,
wasted space, (rest area), lungdump, suck the
suck of it up, dung from dung to dust to dust to
dust too, each grain bleach'd w/ the beast,
ain't no fire can burn them flames.

(ashpile dirtdug)

(llleglble tombstone)

" cash on delivery "


9 kommentarer:

troylloyd sa...

y'all can help Four Minutes to Midnight
publishup some more goodshit
from F.A. Nettelbeck
in the form of
by throwin' some dough
(or spiritual support)
to paper up these pages
laid by the MAN himself,
ain't no time for
brokedown empty pockets,
what you give
is giving itself
this print
will happy yer ass
thru dollardrop doomtime
'cause freedom ain't free
& hi-caliber poets
don't grow on trees

click this shit
& please help
all that you may

& dig Fred's blog:
,read the poems & go thru the archives
& spread some bread for a stash
of the fine books he has up for offer.

sniffin' that keyhole
like doors laid sideways :
enter the exit
& exit at enter

(them pages
weedy w/ growth
& the growin'
won't never be gone
'cause them little letters
lined up wider
are tougher thanna motherfucker,
born to bleed)


mike di tomasso sa...

crash on delivery
(i have a silver machine)

troylloyd sa...

crash on devilry

eyesum Mike!

i dig th shit
outta some
esp. "silver machine"
space drone gitar
motorhead mommaship

stone yr hinges

troylloyd sa...




Mariana Soffer sa...

I like it, i like to see the rage the hate, the irony. I sometimes feel completely identified with the first paragraph, I could have written it, in worst english of corse and not sounding that nice as yours.

Take care

troylloyd sa...

hey Mariana,
thanks, some people would of course say that this is bad english, but i'm a devout Joycean!
= )

then, on the other hand, i do write some things which could be considered "worst english" on this blog:
word w/o word
i am fascinated with translation machines & often those devices generate some amazingly rich english!

Chris Wood sa...


Stephen Nelson sa...


Gotta feelin these wordwiggles of yours in tandem wi themes of rage, disgust, loathing are pretty major major in terms ae literary standing. Reading Bukowski, reading Nettelbeck is a trip but sprinkle in some Joycean shenanigans and you got something pretty special in my book.

BTW - saw 'awkwind at the Edinburgh Playhouse in 1990>>>>* trippin on shrooms; the beginning of the beginning of the ride>>>>*

troylloyd sa...

thanx Stephen,

i bet 'awkwind laid down the cosmic slop!

the mind-body problem still seems to remain a hard question, guts or gourd? re/action.

& i owe you mail!

once i get settled, i'm gonna get my postals going!