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All Poetry & Nothing But
Three Poems
by Brentley Frazer
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The Book of Obscure Technical Commands

Forever in need of a more graphic fix he succeeded in emailing
himself to prison. A pastiche of every filmed atrocity on the
television for 5 nights running through burning hedges. As beautiful
as that ruined body was he will not give his negatives to the chemist.
Gentlemen need the evidence to develop in an instant. They speed
by abandoned picnic rest stops where aging umbrella stands have
blown off the tables. Manipulating the foregone conclusion borderline
- Breaking the rationalism of your brain : the welfare state as a
strategic weapon opens its mouth and screams your name.



An Anarchist Burns the Verandah

I come to the forgotten house and not to lose my resolve
nor to seek some souvenirs
but to walk alone under the arch, -

where boots of masters and generals
of armies have also stood in solitude.

Who comes asking for bread at your door
but the Buddha wounded by his charge,
and though you soap his wounds he
dies quietly in your bath (last words
about children selling car-parts in Africa
and the seasonal rain on deserts I don't
remember).

The shades cast on the verandah
and the vines on the fence beyond which
a gang of boys wreck with hammers the
face of an angel in the graveyard.
Notes on the unobserved

P= This idiot walking in the leaders pants
down the daisy path, doesn't realise that
everybody sees a different tree. He didn't
see the earthworm on the carpet nor the
key in the grass, he took a flight-nurse to
christmas parties and bulldozed the parks.

S= Broadcast some par-negative implicits
into the mass static field, hide some ordered
abstractions behind a neo-jimmy page solo,
vowels swinging like old sneakers on the wires.

Develop a new form of archwriting, freeze the
river, enter it twice.



Half Hour Presentation

This flower walks in and hands his girlfriend a
bunch of brunettes. She sniffs the myriad heads
passing comment on shampoos used and the
various quality of follicle. Meanwhile, this little
kid wearing tissue boxes on his feet shuffles up
the hallway that has one of those insect zappers
in it, to him it was a longboat and he thrashed out
at the empty space with his imaginary whip. Before
long, while I watched an old man in new robes
wandered in to the galley laughing about something
that happened on the bus - interrupting our harmless
state of joy.

 

All Poetry & Nothing ButClash of CivilizationsEC ChairFeatured PoetsForeign DeskGalleryStage
Hedonism: Theory & PracticeLetters & GlossolaliaArt of MarriageMoney TalkPets & BeastsZounds

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