Motor Inn

The End

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 16:39:00 +0000

No more poems on this blog. My current work doesn't lend itself to blog posting. Recent posts are only experiments.

Maybe I will bring other things to the blog.

Ago

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 04:01:00 +0000

young machinery
a dancing giant
signalling her frequency
of thematic desires
tenderly following alongside

--take years above--

what happened against time
closely delineates absences
with the great emphasis
of its different gestures

So Goes It

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 20:23:00 +0000

This business of letters
is discrete.

Only I cannot find

—to express disdain—

a self-evident remark.

I have secrets

—I give you—

I cannot share.

I leave details behind.

There is no reason

—an advantage—

to answer you.

Another Go

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 03:34:00 +0000

Because you were not beautiful,
I liked you best.

You are not here.

I waste my calming influence
on intoxicated strangers.

I wish that I had sent for you.

Advantages

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 03:20:00 +0000

Old,
she cannot find

—to express disdain—

a self-evident remark.
The purpose of letters
is to be discrete.

Lists

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 19:22:00 +0000

introspects

cardiography

labret

plummet

doublespeak

procoercive

preoccupative

idiocrasis

apologetical

registries

sabuline

quadrigamist

offscape

thundercrack

bryophytic

inboard

bract

conjuror

anorexies

grownups

leek fluids

salvations.

Lists

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 19:22:00 +0000

bumblebee

glaucophanite

insuperableness

preciously

placentas

sports

chemokinesis

propellable

improvisor

unpeace

peastick

trombones

lapstreaker

hipness

chemiatry

periodicalist

outhumored

ocarina

toxified

streamy harried

aleutite

medically

Lists

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 19:08:00 +0000

wieldiness

indelicateness

cemetery

barbarianism

semisociative

quaffing

unsome

summerings

reactiveness

supported

axillant

achronical

veneracean

orgeat

domy

clitoric

signor

homophyly

olivaceous

noncompetent axes

misease

wondrousness

Domesticity

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Tue, 24 Jul 2007 19:44:00 +0000

Boulder Sentences

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 21:51:00 +0000

He takes a heating element out of his pocket because he is going to Germany.

Some bricks presented themselves; some have yet to do so.

I am a connoisseur of hotel bathroom pedal bins—and hate them all.

Remain downstage as the First Man continues.

The building you see back there took me only 15 minutess to build.

If you HATE patients why did you become a physician?

Taking Inventory

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sat, 23 Dec 2006 18:27:00 +0000

The burn
on my left forearm
for Weldon—

bahroom tiles
and oven cleaner.

How long will it last?

Montreal Star

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sat, 23 Dec 2006 18:23:00 +0000

* * *

It lasts 109 school children all day.

- unique - kinky - stretch -

Facile.

* * *

Midol

A special mood brightening medication chases blues.

Don’t resort to dramatics!
Make your monthly miseries.

Relief of menstrual distress—
womanhood’s greatest problem.

***

Ever been invited to a coffee clotch?

Literal translation—
"coffee gossip."

Women friends,
none of us ever gossip!
Do we?

***

He forgets I am.

Clean, clean, really clean!

Mother lifts lines—
almost permanent.

Isn’t it comforting to become a stranger?

Female cells shrink
grasp on appearance is difficult to break.

Softened then plumped under closest scrutiny.

The 2nd debut of the woman with early worries.

Discontinued.

***

Pigeons (cont...)

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Fri, 27 Oct 2006 14:55:00 +0000

I

After three decades
away from the world,
the living damaged stand—
touched by red,
mourned enough.

II

Gaze to the sidewalk—
oil-smudged, tarnished bodies
melt on concrete.

Magnetized grey/white hairs—
vertical antennae.
Eyes choose not to focus.

III

See further
on the window ledge—
Stricken Tower.

The normal pace of ecstasy
—sore, withered, ultramarine—
merges with ghost rites.

Blurred shapes whisper
a merciful rhythm—
too soon to try again.

IV

Ignorant of nobility—
shorn missionary endeavors.

Is it right to make a child
return something she has found?

Short Return

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sat, 21 Oct 2006 01:05:00 +0000

I

Wrong Hands
libeled with
coquettish friends.

Called her
to find out.

What did those long seeds grow?
Letters.

II

Come sit in my room.
Awkwardly describe
the taste of
ambiguous sex.

To be grown up
and put out clearance.

Almost folly to enumerate

our 12 seconds.

North Science

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Tue, 17 Oct 2006 03:26:00 +0000

North Science

Three years later—
your words
in someone else’s mouth.
You never said you were sorry.

And your language is a bullwhip—
unmasking old wounds,
opening new skin.
Past muscles, bone.

I trained self-delusion—
suffering to perform.
Rage drives markets.
I hate you because I am afraid.

That everything is true—
I have no compromise,
only destroy bonds,
reporting the worst.

Affection is mutuality with self—
easing to forget
something else was here first.
Dust constitutes my moral body.

Pigeons

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Thu, 12 Oct 2006 03:01:00 +0000

I

To detect the abrupt scene change
later examine rats’s hearts—

not exactly a surprise to see
in a hotel room painted by neon lights—

(blood) gut jumps.

The idea is to tune out.
Away from newspapers, this is real.
--click—

II

Confessional Alley—

Banging kitchen tables,
automated errors.
Not recovering but
shrinking.

III

The joys of having teeth pulled
(brave beyond belief)
the forbidden body—

a dog, a dog, a human track star…

Marie

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Wed, 27 Sep 2006 20:58:00 +0000

I talk in my sleep.
I traveled in Europe for a summer
with a performance group.
I had a pet turtle when I was a kid.
My middle name is Marie.

Yes, I do think so...

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Mon, 25 Sep 2006 18:10:00 +0000

I want to fuck your wife.
Really, it's time.
She's very nice indeed.

There are bibles in every motel room.
I don't see why we can't share her.
$25.00 a bite.

Breathing,
glistening,
opening--

tigtening her hold.

double decker buses

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Mon, 07 Aug 2006 23:14:00 +0000

are good for
looking down
girls shirts.

it upheld the death

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Mon, 31 Jul 2006 02:43:00 +0000

and you’ll see vice
time speaking
training as a composer
it isn’t perfect

step aside it’s also
the voice
that a fetus
turns against until
it turns off

On the Back of August

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sat, 22 Jul 2006 23:18:00 +0000

we read true stories
copied from old fanzines
telling us which glamourous
young starlets
coupled with which
powerful old studio heads

too small

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sat, 22 Jul 2006 23:17:00 +0000

mistook the window for open space

cradled in my palm
I brought it outside
placed it at the bottom of a small garden

I'm glad someone is counting

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Wed, 12 Jul 2006 05:55:00 +0000

Earth's population to hit 6.5 billion on Saturday

THE LATE SHOW

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Tue, 11 Jul 2006 22:10:00 +0000

forgetting
a social disease
curse my syphilitic soul!!

(see Augustine)

The power of memory is great very great my god
my god
is a vast cerebral anemia
giant puzzles for you

planning a trip
founded a city

all reform aims
another way

I would like to acknowledge

sweep is difficult to comprehend

I would like to acknowledge

to myself I have no loyalty

people who first refuse

There is no s wholly god.

Pro Forma Forms

noreply@blogger.com (Motor Inn) — Sun, 09 Jul 2006 23:19:00 +0000

October Mansion
tinted tin red
the intercom still works
the lobbey betrays time
we take the sinking stairs

fall leaves yellow
behind
the wood door they are singing
a single-big-monolithic Parish choir

John
the Panacea said
mercy is a kind of sorrow

he wore the papers on which
the clothes were hung
benefitial disguises overlay
experience

overcast
pearls in the wound
at the bottom of the divine bottle

tbc...