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 Poetry published by Retort Magazine, on May 21st, 2012Taxi HearsDogs have an acute the tear of rhythm, racket, where torn in wind, like flags, Poetry published by Retort Magazine, on May 21st, 2012i can’t wait here Poetry published by Retort Magazine, on May 16th, 2012The TugboatThe anxiety that Jake felt about living his own life was a stunning live St. Vincent song that she re-arranged at the last moment; he didn’t want to live his life in any other fashion, and he had finally reassembled the shattered plastic pieces of his biological parents’ antiquated and myopic worldviews and had formed his own vinyl record from these parts that transformed his hopes into a newly sprouted branch on a young tree; he merely wanted this branch to grow slightly before doubt started to demolish it and before he needed a five dollar martini with his friend John because this drink was Tori Amos playing a single beautiful note on her piano that allowed Jake to briefly forget about his problems until a curator could place his hangover in the Field Museum, which urged him to think that life was a combination of piercing, exquisite, and somewhat painful sounds emanating from an electric guitar that St. Vincent merged with beautiful orchestral music that also Micro-fiction published by Retort Magazine, on May 12th, 2012Into ‘the thoughts’ we project bias at all moments, while we forge our word-trances, electric in a dense world of colored noise. Metaphors are for phoring, and jousting at semantics at full charge. Sustaining vision after the original shot of noticing ‘new spectacle’ and ‘new fodder’, is the key. It’s in the sustaining of vision (and) in the follow through. It’s in the ‘holding it’ just long enough so as to corral the flowing gaze at thoughts and give them agrammatical justice. Whereas the past and future are of equal magnitude, the self at present sits at the very focal point of the conundrum. Complexity infinitum passes through the self at volumes and speeds that cannot be registered or ‘dealt with’ satisfactorily. To remain in a strong state of physical sanity (remember the orchids), the humanimal must settle with reaching out into the semantic storm, and plucking at only bits of the puzzle to hold close for observation and further wondering. — © Dan Hedges |
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