The Brooklyn Rail

NOV 2016

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NOV 2016 Issue
Poetry

from “Insurgentes / Avenues”

 

The Fog of Wardrobe

 

Shanks in an interlock—cluster-cluck: get it?
Bumper facet sets off regional catastrophe
in aerial pinball hurricane tilt. Elbows gyrate

pinwheel destruction, necessitate cleanup
by simple irritation of weakened pressure-
point somewhere in nature, confirming

for once one's risible perceptions of value
or near to its opposite. What circumstance
brings down requisite shovel, plunging

from unseeded atmosphere? Purity? Salted
nimbus bears the water, diffused about
landscape & poised to drop its vaporweight

elsewhere. Mass doesn't care for lineage
interplay, disapproval by noise-gate, 
or anyone clearly published and perished.

Lock of desire
on obsession to output
faith in contrivance
or wishing to label it something else
punk?

Manifest heavy
as slobbered-on pedicured
Blowpop-Pocket-Rocket
yours in its criterion
yours in reactive response to its self
yours in nuanced weatherman-speak
with an Anchor’s retort
to a red laser point

Where climate jokes pour in
a fusillade of punchline
incremental globalized
cataclysm follows

Wanting to apportion some blame
to your deity? Go ahead, who’s not asking?
Security splats mail your SELF back to HELL.

 

 

 

 

 

 

404 Error: Page Not Found

 

Login to server → negotiate death dance;
& please be careful to unhook from its client
whenever the server may drop its connection;

or if one desires
in requesting redemption
of any unedited statistical afterthought
clotting to near-feral
motor-mouthed certainty

(for example, producers of off-the-cuff
potty mouth, piggybacked onto unasked for
critique)—a proposed exegesis on End-Timed

anything coupled with anything else, is that
clear? Whatever it is, it begs medication
& not to be jilted at the Primacy Counter,

& not to entail
a demurring to latency
& not to deliberate
its multi-tasked subroutine
excellence posited back at itself
(as fingers may have fingered it)

& why if it’s so
does a fresh ideation gain
groin-grabbing pleasure
from staring at code-porn
here even more so
than outside the firewall
here even more so
than anywhere else

& then when its quarters
start to shift their coordinates
if only to ground themselves into their mission
& why even contemplate
curative reboot?

Its response is anticipated
hearty inasmuch
as it forces the issue
& proposes a total
abandonment strategy
stroking the server
to distribute denial-
of-service attack.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something Lays Waterfowl

 

“Doesn't matter why!”
squeaks its ostrich into silica
“inasmuch as we relieve ourselves
into one another
holding touch-averse-y follicles
hirsute bulwarks to chagrin”

“Go peck with the beak of another one’s loss!”
Boyfriend Chorus answers “huh?”
Girlfriend Chorus answers “uh-uh.”

As encouragement
putative sungods may zap it
cursors to push End of Days
back to lifeline

“Don’t play the bird mind"
sings a cock to its condom
“poorest in allegory
equals Let It Be Valued
& let it devalue accordingly”

Let force be applied in measures to sky
& to bystander skygod
to skydiving raingod's weapon of spigots
to waterstream pressure
through painful syringe
narrow to needlespray
cutting through tissue

Later if to codify
facts back to factoids
& exposing oneself
& one’s cohorts to -otomy
who’s giving cortex
to respondents in traction?

Avian above wants
special dispensation
something to fondle
in its feathersome chassis

Note before squawking: below it’s all salt;
up on the surface, random bounces off
asphalt, granulates hung off the ribcage,

& here only nitrates & avian-sourced
byproduct, now being used to sign off on
extinctions & other related disbursements. 

 

 

 

 

Contributor

Marc Nasdor

MARC NASDOR is a poet and musician; a native of Baltimore who has lived in New York City since 1980. In the 1980s and 1990s he co-produced international literary festivals, was Program Director at Poets House and the Gas Station. After a 14 year hiatus from literary activities, Roof Books published Sonnetailia in 2007. His current manuscript is Insurgentes / Avenues. In addition, Nasdor (a/k/a Poodlecannon) is known as a mixed-world-music DJ, whose set reflects the diversity of languages in New York. He has also DJ'd in Budapest and Pécs (Hungary), Nantes (France), Mexico City and Mérida (Yucatan).

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The Brooklyn Rail

NOV 2016

All Issues