Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Some I / may want to kill / to mothy pulp,/ mouth what it tore last



Okay okay carnivores:


' P i d e r : send 'poetry', a series of 'art,' 'music,' nail clippings formed to an effigy of Mitt Romney, an Australian-accented reading of Whitman. Trust us to trust you, send to piderbits@gmail.com.




I scour Nashville, apparently, without a single copy of the newest Denver Quarterly. In it, Danielle Pafunda's arresting review of Johannes Goransson's "Entrance to a colonial pageant in which we all begin to intricate." Thanks, at least to Montevidayo. Excerpted from the excerpt:

In this pageant, men have so much gender it hurts. Women murder. Do we get it? We get it! Or, there are no discreet men and discreet women. Male, female, and intersex contestants perform hysterically, refuting the gender binary as their cultural relationships to biological sex unravel. Gender is now just the decaying excess of culture revealed on the body.”


Thanks to
Deerhoof.

Thanks to Coldfront.

Thanks to the digitization of the non-digital With + Stand.


And Shane McCrae: "What country gives ... and does not take the body ... Her body crowded and what step is part / Forward or backward of the motion of / The train ..." Plus his "In No Place."