| Charles Bernstein |
| THINKING I THINK I THINK |
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What are aesthetic values and why do there appear to be lesser & fewer of them? Quick: define the difference between arpeggio & Armani. The baby cries because the baby likes crying. The baby cries because a pin is sticking into the baby. The baby is not crying but it is called crying. Who's on first, what's shortstop. The man the man declined to be, appraised at auction at eighty percent of surface volume. Cube steak on rye amusing twist on lay demo cells, absolutely no returns. Damaged goods are the only kind of goods I ever cared about. The lacuna misplaced the ladle, the actor aborted the fable. Fold your caps into Indians & flaps. Dusting the rigor mortis for compos mentis. Rune is bursting out all overÑperfidious quarrel sublates even the heckling at the Ponderosa. A bevy of belts. Burl Ives turned to burlap. Who yelled that? Lily by the lacquer (laparotomy). I'm strictly here on business, literary business. May I propose the codicil-ready cables? Like slips gassing in the night. Chorus of automatic exclusions. Don't give me no label as long as I am able. Search & displace, curse & disgrace. Suppose you suppose, circumstances remonstrating. Crest envy. Don't give me the Bronx when you mean the Bronx. This one thing I know for she loathes me so: Ketchup will pass for blood only under highly limited conditions. I had a red ball/ I watched it Fall. Help me so that I may exist again. It's the billyclub not the billy that needs watching. Keep your eye on the balloon (cartoon)! Budge, but then move back into position. In other words, steal my car but don't steal my sister's hood. Ironclad comeuppance. Breakfast at the Eiffel tower, lunch at the Kremlin, dinner at the Taj Mahal. In other words, hurt me but don't hurt me so bad. May flies/ So June can hold July. That's no arrow that's a diversionary tactic. That's no spastic that's my elocutionary lodge. When all the cares have become little tiny porous creatures, buckling under the weight of the remorse. The barfly butters his bread on all sides of the collective agency, while even at home the Colonel takes out the garbage. You will find a moist towelette with your porridge. Then just say so. Cratylus, Cratylus, wilt thou be mine? As I is the starch from yesterday's yawning. Cure me so that I will smoke yet not be consumed (at least not at a discount). Pools rush in where barriers have not been fortified. Rules rules where furriers redesign. "Amish modern." French poetry is looking for a way out of "French poetry." Ne touchez pas cette button. The color of baloney. www.The Sirens.org. Ne touchez pas ma bonogna. Her hair was auburn her eyes like amber. Honest to gosh gullies: arraignment of a power untapped & untappable. Quittez votre place (Kitaj dislikes his place). Emboss my fiduciary capitulations! The bellicose churning of the unsettled stomach. National Geographic's "Robot" issue: The Wilderness of the Future, e.g. the Gates Robot Preserve, the American Robotic Conservancy, the Fund for Robotic Culture, the National Endowment for Robots (a.k.a. U.S. Congress). Millions for automation but not one cent for elegy. Eight elephants dancing deliriously to the wail of the bumble bees. So long, sailor/ goodbye failure. Or let the pail wear the head of the lotion. Here is smoldering continuation. The smell of green tea on Greene Street. Bottled reticence. Gimme gimme Gone. Guilt in the form of guilt. |