Joe Hall Poem
4.13.5
In the mother fucking sound and the mother fucking light, in
The iterations of thunder, the bass so high
It hurls you into the grass, all these bitches lying
On their beds, touching themselves, waiting for me
An algorithm of trees exploding in your face, shaved from soap
In a prison cell, in a pair of yellow finches
Alighting from the high power line, all these dudes
Lying on their beds, stroking their cocks, waiting for me
Leached from the circuits in a baroque array of evolving graphical
Representations of a black economy, a cancer, a subverting process, O Christ!
Only imminent, you cannot be found, waiting to subsume, fuck up
Them cities, bring murder into the bridal chamber
And armies copulating in the killing field mud
Delete all images of yourself, crash
This party, sink this continent
To petrify latitudes of soy and corn—
To perform plastic surgery on everyone—
Make us wear our guts like streamers
A clarity scouring the berserk horizon
Murdering the letter ‘B’ from the alphabet
No name for you ever had it
I will not break down my tent
You are a lamb
Joe Hall is the founder and co-organizer (with Wade Fletcher) of the Washington, DC area reading series Cheryl’s Gone. His first book, Pigafetta Is My Wife, will be published April 2010 by Black Ocean Press. He is also an avid collector of bloody noses.
Sunday Service
Badass.
Badass.
righteous
righteous
this poem gave me a bloody nose and i did that move where i wipe the blood away with the back of my hand, then look at the blood on the back of my hand and then sneer/smile at the poem because of what it did to me
and then I licked it off and said,
do it again.
this poem gave me a bloody nose and i did that move where i wipe the blood away with the back of my hand, then look at the blood on the back of my hand and then sneer/smile at the poem because of what it did to me
and then I licked it off and said,
do it again.
i found myself head-banging while reading this.
i found myself head-banging while reading this.
Reading this while listening to the new Liars album is a really good idea. Propulsive stuff.
Reading this while listening to the new Liars album is a really good idea. Propulsive stuff.
Really loved this.
Really loved this.
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i enjoyed
i enjoyed
I like this a lot.
I like this a lot.
Nice aggressive stuff.
Nice aggressive stuff.
fuckin a
fuckin a
This poem feels prophetic. Beautiful. And that last line!
This poem feels prophetic. Beautiful. And that last line!
Killer poem, Joe!
Killer poem, Joe!
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