tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56857232011-04-21T16:58:36.580-04:00Semioanalysis DiscothequeI'm Too Sexy for My PoemsKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comBlogger1561100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1094069640875801842004-09-01T16:00:00.000-04:002004-09-01T16:14:00.876-04:00I was mad at you originally for not linking to my weblog, because I linked to your post of 10/5/04 about "Sheep Poetics" and then I saw you linked to Tommy Schism's blog but you didn't link back to my link which was linked to Tommy too, even though Tom's link to me was placed into his template before my assault on the "incorporation of snuff poems" which linked to both you and Tom's cat, Pooky. Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1094013219817040922004-09-01T00:27:00.000-04:002004-09-01T00:35:46.850-04:00While in the midst of preening yourself,
you are lovable but lonely. Or, to paraphrase Mr. Hammer,
"One may not touch this." I'm tired of bricks
mortaring me back to the group hug. In labcoats
the few thus peruse the prophesy for the many
goddamn wildflowers that bloom in empty empty lots.
The force of declaration on my way to the bunkum
tells me that beauty is a weapon, your fetishes
futures. Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1093991227780658022004-08-31T18:23:00.000-04:002004-08-31T18:27:07.780-04:00C'est tres difficile, having a virtual body; I can hardly drag the Filene's bags along behind my sentence, lifting them then with urgent arms into the SUV. I lumber among your dark cicatrix of house and trance, where the Rambo falls mainly on the plaque-fighting ingredients!
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1093990973056176932004-08-31T18:20:00.000-04:002004-08-31T18:22:53.056-04:00Today I am feeling the nostalgia for your Rod McKuen.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1091957524098644612004-08-07T04:35:00.002-04:002004-08-08T05:32:04.096-04:00I have insomnia this evening, so I got out my old ABBA albums and performed a reminiscence. I am truly digested by this music! It performs such a realignment of the inner paradigm, and may I also humbly submit that this band "totally fucking rocks," as you Americans would say. I want to be a poet who writes love songs to votre cans of soup in the grocery store. After that...who knows? Carnegie Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1091955309519380612004-08-07T04:35:00.000-04:002004-08-08T04:55:09.520-04:00Sometimes I worry so much about what my audience thinks of me that I break out in sores around the entire lining of my mouth from toxic stress. After all, I have no other life but you. Your new book is in my hand right now while I type this!!! My shrine to you is bigger than my shrine to that other dickhead. Shhh...don't tell anyone...
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090989752578294102004-07-28T00:41:00.000-04:002004-07-28T00:42:32.576-04:00Welcome to "24 Hour Poetry People."
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090873539114644712004-07-26T16:12:00.000-04:002004-07-26T16:25:39.116-04:00"The logic of the philosophies that informed this aesthetic implied that socially useful ideas would no longer be articulated in conventional intellectual forms, but would develop new means that did not privilege the abstract intellect. The culture of yeltaw AAAAAAAAAAAAaoooogah nik nik in intellectual INGENAFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFringals technad HOOMP! Beyond the ken of unh unh Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090614618786032192004-07-23T16:30:00.000-04:002004-07-23T16:30:18.786-04:00O, your tapioca pearls have made me sluggish and narcissistic!
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090614578083621812004-07-23T16:29:00.000-04:002004-07-23T16:34:29.316-04:00Meeting eurotrash in your downtown elevator, I feel right at home in votre group-think environment. Such maneuvers are unhomelike though relentlessly dull! Abba dada waco vegas, incognito jeune fille degas.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090552387162796282004-07-22T23:09:00.000-04:002004-07-22T23:14:00.306-04:00Ebullient yet sardonic is difficult to accomplish without sounding nasty, which is why so many listeners flee when I begin to undo my boutonniere. O you listening types, I am amplified and have been dispersed by lions! Their manes chuckling at the edge of the dessert tray remind me that perhaps there were never really listeners, just grouper fish. The hysterical screams when Jan and Dean mount Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090518691437783872004-07-22T13:49:00.000-04:002004-07-22T16:37:15.340-04:00Allen Bramhall claims that I can't be arch and scrofulous at the same time. Just watch me!
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090513011943495992004-07-22T12:16:00.000-04:002004-07-22T12:16:51.943-04:00Hello, my name is Karl Merleau-Marcuse. I am a Franco-Germanic poet who has recently immigrated to America. I am doing my best to make sense of this confusing, alienating capitalist culture swirling around me every day. Join me and my friends as we discuss contemporary American poetry and other vital cultural matters.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090510032577583332004-07-22T11:06:00.000-04:002004-07-22T11:27:12.576-04:00What Narcissism Means to Me
Tony Hoagland
($11.20, Graywolf Press, 2003)
I was reading Tony Hoagland's new book "What Narcissism Means to Me" this morning when I heard your ice cream truck go by outside on the street! How I whisked open the door and ran barefoot out to the yard's edge, purchasing two of your Klondike bars and a creamsicle. Metanarratives getting old is getting old. My feet are Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090471706975684582004-07-22T00:48:00.000-04:002004-07-22T00:57:24.083-04:00
Bobby-Joe is down in Aerosmith this week visiting friends so I have custody of our four komodo dragons plus Dudette, a big sweet puffer fish who belongs to my colleagues Missy & Lou, who are in RuPaul on an academic junket. So I'm sitting here on a Wanamaker evening listening to Alternative Indie Rock & feeling "generally laid back." J'ai le strong sense that votre American voters are going to Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090472315100511802004-07-21T22:57:00.002-04:002004-07-22T00:58:35.100-04:00Today Semioanalysis Discotheque received its umpteen million billionth visitor!
Congrats to everyone "out there" who has helped to make this limpet orgy so grotesquely bodacious!
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1090444459897680602004-07-21T16:53:00.000-04:002004-07-22T13:52:14.556-04:00Today I entered a local store of votre Curves corporation, only to be rebuffed on account of my scrofulous, Baudelaire-like appearance! An aspiring soccer-mom avec les cheveux corts lifted me up with her little finger, spun me around a few times then flung me out the door until I bounced into a kiddie pool several yards away behind one of your omnipresent chain-link fences. As I was recovering Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1089989060864130482004-07-16T10:43:00.000-04:002004-07-16T11:56:48.146-04:00Bringing me back to a body that has no set parameters, like someone else’s schnozz on my face, against a taxidermist’s background. Your metrosexual American yuppies suck bubble tea from straws like a hangnail caption to the article. The The has broken up by now, haven’t they? I was completely uninsured that my arm was not someone else’s corpus, written up in Finnish by Aalvar Tapioca, depending Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1089988973777797162004-07-16T10:41:00.000-04:002004-07-16T10:42:53.776-04:00Your American crotches and rear ends in my face, like Dante's fifth circle of public transportation.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1089988885643168052004-07-16T10:38:00.000-04:002004-07-16T10:41:25.643-04:00I just saw something! Should I say something?
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1089913799618953582004-07-15T13:40:00.000-04:002004-07-15T13:50:28.490-04:00J'ai visite your Museum of Dirt and have concluded that vanitas is the new "new," like a weak poet with food-stains on her clothing. I'm operating on automatic pilot, between one ism and a velvet painting set on "stun." Aisles of undead packaging, simulacral vertebrae. Alas, poor sports-bra, your James Dean's looking fey-er. Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1089902506500399112004-07-15T10:40:00.000-04:002004-07-15T10:41:46.500-04:00Today I had my testicles scanned with an ultrasound device at your American Mass General Hospital. How coy and benevolent they seemed, suspended in their scaly liquid and bloated like Donald Rumsfeld's "foreign land" checkbook! It all becomes more difficult saying it, like the words were never part of you or strenuous living detected "preassembled kitchen sets" to take home to dada! I live on Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1080323701826922562004-03-26T12:55:00.000-05:002004-03-26T12:59:02.920-05:00Today I picked a scab off my face and ate it.
Celui-la etait the Big American Gross-Out.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1080323632911418792004-03-26T12:53:00.000-05:002004-03-26T12:58:12.140-05:00This machine kills fascist accessories like a "Reaction" purse opens to dentata donning frock-jock. Mission accomplished, mes bugaboos protest oppressive system!
Along this axis, a few dandies dance all night at le "Improper Bostonian" party, in itself less coy than brushing off dandruff from my one beloved mutt. Gutting social program for you, I betray rhetorical anxiety. Shadows of "too rigidKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1080322059651262452004-03-26T12:27:00.000-05:002004-03-26T12:30:11.686-05:00"The handicraftsmen of democratic ages not only endeavor to bring their useful productions within the reach of the whole community, but strive to give to all their commodities attractive qualities that they do not in reality possess. In the confusion of all ranks everyone hopes to appear what he is not, and makes great exertions to succeed in this object. This sentiment, indeed, which is only tooKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079717262358728212004-03-19T12:27:00.000-05:002004-03-19T12:39:01.606-05:00On second thought, revolution schmevolution. Let's all go out and grab as much argent as possible. I study your installments of "The Apprentice" with power tie handy, lurking entre dark hubs of hubris and "money shots".Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079713781215885142004-03-19T11:29:00.000-05:002004-03-19T11:32:06.186-05:00La revolution will be broadcast from the stench of my cyber-armpit. To be at once sleek and damned, picking through rags of the old code, antipodes. Too many visages in a metrosexual slurry, Scully. You think they're aliens but they're really le group-mind, power lines snaking in from somewhere autre. Heck, let's expose everybody as such a sham(an). I find I cannot stomach Kentucky Fried Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079709714652256112004-03-19T10:21:00.000-05:002004-03-19T10:24:19.686-05:00Remember when people used to say "Let's go out and get cultured" as in, "Let's go out and get fucked" ? I miss that.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079625845728750092004-03-18T11:04:00.000-05:002004-03-18T11:09:35.496-05:00Today I am still malade.
J'ai just blew a big wad of snot into this tissue. Want to see it? Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079625671235657582004-03-18T11:01:00.000-05:002004-03-18T11:03:35.496-05:00Remember when we used to gather on your terrace for croissants and du burre? I liked that, you fucker.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079625546238701672004-03-18T10:59:00.000-05:002004-03-18T14:09:03.340-05:00Puppets are funny because they're replacing real government. Avoir saddle, will blow this place skyhigh, you Draconian stinker. Fool enough to faire le cours as distraction segues into Howdy Doody time.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079617829553258992004-03-18T08:50:00.000-05:002004-03-18T12:30:01.640-05:00Je suis so tired of myself it's not even funny!
I is an udder, n'est ce pas? How moooving...Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079397246622011442004-03-15T19:34:00.000-05:002004-03-15T19:39:05.873-05:00Making sense is tres tiring. If we could only separate your pilgrim from his musket, pard.
"When you pry my cold liposuction Senator from the handle."
Then we go out and eat Fribble-shakes in gnat-dusk.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079395593567308592004-03-15T19:06:00.000-05:002004-03-15T19:14:48.966-05:00I found a used object in the street. I will use it, naturellement: "Nos peches sont tetus, nos repentirs sont..." but here it breaks off, sans accents, bits of encrusted asphalt stuck on Coolatta and detective music. Crowd of qui sont, qui sans, parading to a dim bulb, empty haunt.
Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-107939532492901862004-03-15T19:02:00.000-05:002004-03-15T19:04:26.530-05:00What do I know? It seems le ciel is falling but it pretends to ecrit the donut chain-store Rimbaud! Turn left at next monument of interest, Baudrillard bump it, bump it. I wander through your parks and am blinded by extreme preppiness and house-buying plumage, to beset and direct one in this root. Meanwhile I float, as electrical impulses apply a "Buffalo Wings" decal to a plain screen, a screed.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079394925406931702004-03-15T18:55:00.000-05:002004-03-15T18:57:47.043-05:00Today I am pondering how Yahoos control your search engines.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079394830218974462004-03-15T18:53:00.000-05:002004-03-15T18:56:11.860-05:00There is goop dripping from my nostrils. I pray that it is normal goop. I sulk in shadows of police profile footnote, hoping someday to emerge and "Rock With You." False podiatrist, the entire dirigible is made from wax! I MUST obtain access to my own cell phone tourniquet...Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079394367758857282004-03-15T18:46:00.000-05:002004-03-15T19:05:21.233-05:00Strange puppetry of Carol Channing, introduce me, in whose voice I approach your stacks of coffee cans, toothpaste, dry rot, mobile home catalogues, a lot of hooey. Circuit breaker, pretending to be fun with a je ne sais dumpy attitude. If vous etes charisma-laden then I'm a mobile bacteria. Shed your skins, o thug cabals of serials and Lawyer Flakes!Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1079393933825797532004-03-15T18:38:00.000-05:002004-03-15T18:41:15.030-05:00Hello, my name is Karl Merleau-Marcuse. I am a Franco-Germanic poet who has recently immigrated to America. I am doing my best to make sense of this confusing, alienating capitalist culture swirling around me every day. Join me and my friends as we discuss contemporary American poetry and other vital cultural matters.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1078170319859229282004-03-01T14:45:00.000-05:002004-03-01T14:47:26.670-05:00Conspirateurs has a political "I" in the spire of wanting a new plan, but I would advise you: go rub your face in fresh dung instead, parce que I am rapscallion and radish seeking mass asylum! Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1078169914101460692004-03-01T14:38:00.000-05:002004-03-01T14:42:32.310-05:00Alors, all votre incorporated jerkoffs:
BAH
D
I E
Nous allons faire write ourselves into a big mess this time, Tarzan. In April, he say to my lovers, "Je ne suis pas maudit, je suis plus bon" as ungrammatical as shit. No kidding, plastic signs all around me dangling hula of wanting presence, Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1078121846725138642004-03-01T01:17:00.000-05:002004-03-01T01:19:33.420-05:00My stomach still hurts, I can only buy the bland foods. I encounter your supermarkets distracted by thirty-five brands of toothpaste, blinded as a mole-rat seeking the sumptuary laws. Vouloir buy the lettuce crisper, too many cluster bombs, in clusters, the violent broccoli, its weight protruding from my left wrist, unspeakable hootenanies at another's expense. Is that all it comes to, a Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1078030562534978062004-02-28T23:56:00.000-05:002004-02-28T23:59:53.873-05:00I have decided this will be an exhibitionist diary of my innermost desires, like stamping on your flesh in the guise of old men's toe fungus. Make my limbo, Kubla kahn striptease at Au Bon Pain!Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1078030371055282952004-02-28T23:52:00.000-05:002004-02-28T23:54:56.140-05:00I notice my friend Tim Peterson has a new weblog. I think he takes himself far too seriously, but then what do I know? I'm just a two-dimensional projection out of somebody's navel. Le idea fixee comes to deport me in the morning, when ratchets and chiffon chat in hushed tourniquets.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1078030122280675652004-02-28T23:48:00.000-05:002004-02-28T23:59:19.123-05:00Your "Legally Blonde 2" makes me vomit, as this weekend I discovered upon giving into my morbid fascination with visiting the state of Connecticut, where values of your Eighties decade still reign. Jostled by the members of the bus around me, the untimely shrill voice of Reese Witherspoon caused a disruption in my stomach whereupon I spewed chunks of partially digested matter across the other Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1069259797636975672003-11-19T11:36:00.000-05:002003-11-19T11:38:45.153-05:00Karl needs to take a little nap for a while. He will return sooner or later, never fear.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1069254088153538002003-11-19T10:01:00.000-05:002003-11-19T10:01:52.996-05:00This is hard to do, someone earning the cash so I can sweat this out. Frail extension, with chalk-white arms that turn out to be just powder. Then it flirts with your extension. Pet rock?Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1069253892375182422003-11-19T09:58:00.000-05:002003-11-19T11:35:49.170-05:00I move heavy objects among mimes, Nick and Jack thanks you for walk in the park inspired by Motorola. Get back! Adjusted my seatbelt in the time it takes to foreswear enternity's bungalow. As I watch fronds disintegrate by the road I feel happy, engorged to the point of sweating hopeful memories of ground chuck. Fuck, the list enlarges along transistor lines. You appear to have a hairy back, as IKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068844402603449962003-11-14T16:13:00.000-05:002003-11-14T16:13:42.686-05:00As I hear my own voice dissolving into that archaic space, so Bob brains a rooster with that salad shooter that he bought at a discount, or products split me into woodcuts I admire and am reproduced by. Fallow judgement, jargon confident in my long stride, of voice in more than one optative locale, I hear.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068751509392676882003-11-13T14:25:00.000-05:002003-11-14T16:11:02.950-05:00Karl is chewing on the "social construction" hypothesis. My, how chewy it is!Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068745625467770522003-11-13T12:47:00.000-05:002003-11-13T12:47:23.966-05:00Today I have a crick in my neck, on the left side of the neck, right here. When I turn my head to the left side, I feel a slight tinge along the muscles into the trapezius and across the Adam's apple. Though if I turn my head to the right and angle my face left, the pain recedes to nothing more than a twinge in my right ear. Is it possible for me to diagnose myself without readers, or responses?Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068745073284451082003-11-13T12:37:00.000-05:002003-11-13T12:38:11.903-05:00Two clarifications I would like to make:
1) when I say "here," I mean here, not there.
2) I don't like Ellen Bryant Voigt's poetry. I put her on the Toilet reading list because reading her poems causes my bowels to suddenly relax in a kind of reflex action that is rather disturbing, but sometimes useful.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068744862977788302003-11-13T12:34:00.000-05:002003-11-13T12:50:12.700-05:00I was going to tell a goat-fucking story here, but thought it might be better to nip this trend in the bud.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068744531945471382003-11-13T12:28:00.000-05:002003-11-13T12:30:08.610-05:00Nice comments about Mike County's poem today, Mark. I think it's a really good sign to see that we're reading one another's terrific work and encouraging each other.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068499529372545412003-11-10T16:25:00.000-05:002003-11-10T16:25:26.880-05:00Your host has also decided to become a vegisexual, in this hopes that this will turn his elegiac impulses into a hunger for cabbage, broccoli, the defiant or expectant hum of change emerging from a ground, or root-word, soon.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068499148401567522003-11-10T16:19:00.000-05:002003-11-10T16:19:05.993-05:00I'm neither moaning nor rattling chains. I'm simply pointing offstage, to that thing, there.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068364767495108542003-11-09T02:59:00.000-05:002003-11-09T02:59:25.573-05:00Your American Dominoes Pizza has the consistency of cardboard. While eating a medium with pepperoni this evening, this dilemma caused me to ponder the nature of the relationship between the pizza and its container, at which point I discovered I had inadvertently eaten the box.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068325985238161382003-11-08T16:13:00.000-05:002003-11-08T16:13:03.193-05:00O blog blog blog blog blog those who advertise you
out?
(doubt crept into his/her/its voice then...)Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068314754148668482003-11-08T13:05:00.000-05:002003-11-08T16:14:30.693-05:00Whaddya mean "Who's William Carlos Williams"?Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068314630046718432003-11-08T13:03:00.000-05:002003-11-08T13:03:48.166-05:00Maybe a William Carlos Williams bobble-head doll? As his head wobbles on the dashboard I could picture him saying: "The pure products of America / go crazy..." Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068274028777951672003-11-08T01:47:00.000-05:002003-11-08T01:47:55.436-05:00Hey everybody, I just bought a Gayatri Spivak bobble-head doll!
Shit...this is more difficult than I thought it would be...Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068273830722905562003-11-08T01:43:00.000-05:002003-11-08T01:43:48.516-05:00[insert gratuitous reference to pop culture here so I don't sound too elitist, ie, so I don't sound like a poet]Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068273484522737912003-11-08T01:38:00.000-05:002003-11-08T01:40:54.600-05:00Is intimacy possible on the stage itself? That's debatable, silly ivy of performativity overgrowing speech, the difference being that the stage is bounded by three walls and occurs within discrete range of time, before others. Another layer of metaphorical removal here in the plastic forest: hey, I just slipped on that banana peel and died! That was fuuuuunnnnnyyyyy. Such a shame that you missed Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068273125123855612003-11-08T01:32:00.000-05:002003-11-08T01:33:32.353-05:00When you touch me with your hand, that one, though I know it's not your hand, twisted into a vase of flowers decaying bonnet, overlord, toothed necklace, oh flatten me out, from machinery of the inert phrase like your "warranty guarantee," "cowabunga, dude," or "let's rock" (convenient euphemism for acts offstage).Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068236930992045012003-11-07T15:28:00.000-05:002003-11-07T15:28:48.990-05:00Call it "Franco-Germanic poet's intuition." I should listen to it more often.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068236689891669192003-11-07T15:24:00.000-05:002003-11-07T15:24:47.930-05:00I could tell when I first got here that this wasn't going to work out.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068134626059553242003-11-06T11:03:00.000-05:002003-11-06T11:03:44.456-05:00Maybe this confusion is what creates the "ghostliness" of the ghost city.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068134521836655502003-11-06T11:02:00.000-05:002003-11-06T11:02:47.380-05:00This is a good point you make today, Mike. Blogs being the site where self and other (or, at least some of the others) collide, a confusion is bound to arise between solipsism in poetry, which is often useful for the solitary writer, and solipsism in life, which is probably not a very practical idea.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068065542855389512003-11-05T15:52:00.000-05:002003-11-05T15:52:21.463-05:00Jacques Derrida beaned bases loaded Jacques LacanKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068065256618467252003-11-05T15:47:00.000-05:002003-11-05T15:47:34.690-05:00Judith Butler grand slam forkball Frederic Jameson earned run average whiff backstop Michel Foucault fielding hot corner to fungo top of the inning Luce Irigaray no hitter bag of errors outs Walter Benjamin strike catcher’s mitt bunt Theodor Adorno penalty boxKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068052350707683642003-11-05T12:12:00.000-05:002003-11-05T12:12:29.150-05:00Hello, my name is Karl Merleau-Marcuse. I am a Franco-Germanic poet who has recently immigrated to America. I am doing my best to make sense of this confusing, alienating capitalist culture swirling around me every day. Join me and my friends as we discuss contemporary American poetry and other vital cultural matters. Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068050168117865622003-11-05T11:36:00.000-05:002003-11-05T11:36:06.350-05:00I do appreciate Chris's recent post, though. Thank for raising the tone, Chris. We should all have the discipline to try and say something at least once in a while. I do wonder about the fact that your commentary ends in a morass of questions without positing a solution, but then again, I just raised my leg and farted on the woman next to me on the bus this morning, so I shouldn't be taken Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068049696101404912003-11-05T11:28:00.000-05:002003-11-05T11:28:14.293-05:00Three articles. I'm writing three articles at the same time. Argh! Hey, the plastic funhouse bumpcycle podiatrist! Got lungs? This blog cannot be a place for serious prose, otherwise my head would explode.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1068049339228942132003-11-05T11:22:00.000-05:002003-11-05T11:22:17.580-05:00Le countdown begins: any of you on my blogroll who don't link to Karl in the coming week will be taken off the blogroll. (exceptions made for Xtina, who has no blog links.)Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067972864620374022003-11-04T14:07:00.000-05:002003-11-04T14:07:43.200-05:00...thus evoking overtones of love without destroying love's life-giving vulgarity, and sustaining the poet's feelings towards the blog while preventing love from distracting him into feeling about the person...
(apologies to you-know-who)Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067886688442491842003-11-03T14:11:00.000-05:002003-11-03T14:16:41.423-05:00I schedule machinery to run on time, but I am not a machine, nor do I aspire to be one ailment if only orifice short of cord, undulate changeward, false police, organize a roof gallery exhibition is nice, sack falling open bursting with seeds.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067881751313989982003-11-03T12:49:00.000-05:002003-11-03T12:49:09.443-05:00Today my armpits smell. Can you smell them?Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067832361801972412003-11-02T23:06:00.000-05:002003-11-05T14:29:43.763-05:00I thank James for his compliment, but it's not easy being a frivolous virtual character with limited dramatic motivations. There is much I would like to say of depth and significance, but instead I must sit here and patiently mold accurate likenesses of your movie stars out of my own shit. The body that is changing and opening into new territory feels itself stretching, scar staying as a remnant Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067831430199569492003-11-02T22:50:00.000-05:002003-11-02T22:51:42.100-05:00Last night I had a dream that was entirely two-dimensional. I was inside a web-page, and the whole dream consisted of me eternally scrolling down this giant webpage. I never reached the bottom. I was inside this webpage at the same time as I also stood outside it somehow and could see all of it from where I floated in ambiguous space.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067831193554496802003-11-02T22:46:00.000-05:002003-11-02T22:47:57.446-05:00Sometimes I feel that I am no more substantial than a mannequin. The workmen come in at dusk and move me into a new pose, which I find upon waking. Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067831002379266702003-11-02T22:43:00.000-05:002003-11-02T22:43:20.686-05:00And his favorite film? Godard's Masculine-Feminine.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067830874586909252003-11-02T22:41:00.000-05:002003-11-02T22:41:12.923-05:00What is Karl Merleau-Marcuse's favorite band? Why, Pizzicato Five, of course!Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067663885128663402003-11-01T00:18:00.000-05:002003-11-01T00:18:04.030-05:00This evening I was eating steak tips and a Sprite at a family restaurant, and suddenly the ghost of Aby Warburg floated out of the kitchen toward me, groaning "Bildwissenschaft, oh Bildwissenschaft." Happy Halloween.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067663576021322722003-11-01T00:12:00.000-05:002003-11-01T00:12:54.986-05:00Today I found a mole on my chest that had changed color since the last temps I looked at it. Last I saw it, it was small and dark brown, and barely protruded from the skin. Now it has grown large and flat and slightly reddish, with a small hair jutting out of it near the top. Mon dieu, I hope it is nothing dangereuse! In this light it is mostly red, though when I look at it under the (slightly Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067661018411594662003-10-31T23:30:00.000-05:002003-10-31T23:32:36.640-05:00I think this is what was originally meant by "critique of the self." If you don't "buy" that, I feel your testicles descending in full force. I look up and think, God, who built that ugly eyesore, that monument? How many people dragged that through the dirt to be erected?Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067660806126247412003-10-31T23:26:00.000-05:002003-10-31T23:43:40.663-05:00I'm someone else here so s/he can be him/herself in his/her poems. That's a weird paradox. Can I get a sympathetic ear? Probably not from you, which is why this continues. Somewhere between a phantom and name-as-brand name (no money involved except "cultural capital"), I begin to feel layers of me peeling away. That's him/her, s/he's walking away now, leaving me less than a memory of sense...Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067635432750493892003-10-31T16:23:00.000-05:002003-10-31T16:25:15.593-05:00Or, as Samuel Johnson put it: "I refute him thus"
(insert action)
Uh oh, looks like mediation led to my action being obscured! For the full story, please visit my apartment in Somerville, MA. That's an actual place, and no, I don't think that machines can really desire anything, thanks for asking.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067635305734824902003-10-31T16:21:00.000-05:002003-10-31T16:21:44.613-05:00An Update on the Race Thus Far:
It looks like "speech" is beating "writing" by a nose... sorry, Jacques!Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067634900197547512003-10-31T16:15:00.000-05:002003-10-31T16:14:59.226-05:00We have our intimate moments, and I enjoy that, but now I must digress into antler chromium diaspora, looking silly in puffed-up plaque designs according to height and weight watchers sycophant. Feelin' groovy (whistles)....Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067634811375100852003-10-31T16:13:00.000-05:002003-10-31T16:13:30.416-05:00I'm writing to you now from a Starbucks in Acapulco. No, actually I'm on a Highway driving through North Carolina. Wait a minute! I think I'm at a Sons of the Confederacy meeting in Boston! Well, looks like I was mistaken...I'm sitting at a bar in Chicago, a short caucasian woman with a dachsund on a leash. Hang on a second, I'm actually a tall caucasian man with tatooed arms and an evil-looking Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067632755302377762003-10-31T15:39:00.000-05:002003-10-31T15:39:24.833-05:00Meanwhile, the Gender Genie thinks that I, Karl Merleau-Marcuse, am female.
Well, perhaps I am...Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067632327856051972003-10-31T15:32:00.000-05:002003-10-31T15:33:44.166-05:00There Goes Another Eloquent Theory Dept:
I put Marianne Moore's poem "Peter" into The Gender Genie, and I got the following score:
female score: 665
male score: 802
The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: male!
(Demographer says: must have been the line breaks that skewed our results...)Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067626639675961102003-10-31T13:57:00.000-05:002003-10-31T13:57:27.380-05:00Sometimes I feel like blogs are to poetry what scabs are to the surface of the human body. This may be true, but then I look down at my plastic hands and remember how much of me is merely virtual. Virtual eggs, virtual ham, virtual night spent on the sofa in the hall, virtual vitriol, virtual punch-in-the-face, virtual virtue. From which inhalation enterprise I take the path of not corrupted by aKarl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067620044063485842003-10-31T11:57:00.000-05:002003-10-31T13:21:08.250-05:00It's good to be a storefront among storefronts. Wonder what everyone's doing out there in the real world? By this I mean the physical world (as the startups that had no counterpart in the real crashed & burned). I find this mysteriousness to be exciting and slightly sexy, at the edge of such possibility! Hey -- shall we meet in "phonespace" next time, or maybe "fast food space"? I need to go eat Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067497685959524512003-10-30T02:08:00.000-05:002003-10-30T02:07:59.826-05:00Parkas, comatose tablets, le futon, le garage band, das bild und Saran Wrap icon. Slipping into something more je ne sais Apocalypse Now, foot fungus, characters you can sympathize with. I approach the Twinkies considering action but am diverted by the shine in le frigidaire patent. Funky classicist, your archaic ideas bring us fascist itch. Why then so appealing, your Caesar's Palace, your Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067497143283558172003-10-30T01:59:00.000-05:002003-10-30T02:03:53.206-05:00Example: the 18-to-35 male demographic for television-watching has "dropped off" in recent months by about 10 %. The networks respond to this change by saying the results are inaccurate, and they are confident that viewership will soon return to "normal" levels. Earth to demographers: or my friend who worked as a market analyst and was encouraged to "adjust" any results that seemed "wrong." As Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067496656071665802003-10-30T01:50:00.000-05:002003-10-30T01:50:49.933-05:00Perhaps, what matters being not the frequency of site-visits, is the quality of attention over time. The way in which we view websites, for Demographers crouched in their little lairs somewhere, hunkered down with a bottle of Yoo-Hoo in front of the spyware monitor, fails to digress into poetry's mold of attention, or its own rhythms. As what's actually important slips through the radar of Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067495655340130182003-10-30T01:34:00.000-05:002003-10-30T01:34:09.446-05:00Cynicism is the new sentimentality. I believe Karl Merleau-Marcuse said that.Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067495621552264172003-10-30T01:33:00.000-05:002003-10-30T01:33:35.666-05:00My address to you is always hidden, in a most ambivalent fashion, behind this same "you all."Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5685723.post-1067495463781079262003-10-30T01:31:00.000-05:002003-10-30T01:30:57.933-05:00By blogging I am procrastinating from all the reviews I have to write. Yes, your host is now a reviewer for several magazines, with far more readers than blogworld could ever provide! Let's see, the biggest poetry blogs: about a hundred and fifty readers, tops. Your average journal or magazine: at least several hundred, if not several thousand readers, maybe tens of thousands of readers. I cease Karl Merleau-Marcusehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08828369343978622985noreply@blogger.com