events ephemera people about home


Narratives speed into the crooked
rear view mirror of history.
Fast access to information.
Don’t slay the messenger.
We’re trying to make the materials cohere.
Proclaiming service with a smile.
while management rules with bile.
Well, I ain’t goin’ to work tomorrow,
and I may not work next week.

Yes, an intentional decision was made.
A literal show stopper.

Split personality is increasingly the norm.
Sifting through a day’s pile of garbage.
Cold winds howl down the avenues.
Sometimes it seems as if we’re just about
to turn the corner. Contingent histories
within traditions. Not very close
to utopia.

What’s the name on the tank town tank?
Antelope gather around the salt lick
behind the garage. Wild geese
get a late start on migration.
Express stop. Registering plug-ins.
A plastic runner bunches up in front of the couch.
Plate-Oh Restaurant, Greek-American Feast.

Turnips and Tasty Cakes.
Damn, your handsome
family man, forget it.
A car with its hood up
in the parking lot.
Cat piss on the carpet
at a Howard Johnson hotel.
A string of expletives dubbed over.
Ignoring the eviction notice.
Lying face down in the snow.

Inbred aestheticism. Definitely half empty.
Feel free to interrupt. Indeterminacy
is too determined. There, there;
there’s no there there.
Perennial bridesmaid. We won the battle,
but lost the war. “Ready?” “OK!”

—Alan Gilbert
(before and after reading at Cornershop, February 1999)