Chemical Habits of a Timeless Century
Staggered, the bruised trumpet spit but did not rot.
The infant bees put their happy muscles to sleep
In the illusion of a breakneck pulse;
The ecstasy overcame the marrow,
the joints were oiled and the pesky bedsore splints scattered
with mad, mad thoughts of heathers and stephens in the improvisational flesh;
Found all-a-them in the details of clowns, in classic drawn-out remarks, payoffs for history on the face of earth told by musky musky mimes on colorful May days.
What a crazed sleep you were in when you balanced all those books on your head, and how ’bout those smoky snowflakes melting in slow motion?
The pills, the medication cures
the loser phantasm mastered.
Breathe in gulp the deepest random decades, City,
Go meet the Town where the seeds are aplenty.
Forego the answers in the trickery and drive.
Chris Weige | California, TX. | Share a key intuit
Staggered, the bruised trumpet spit but did not rot. The infant bees put their happy muscles to sleep In the illusion of a breakneck pulse; The ecstasy overcame the marrow, the joints were oiled and the pesky bedsore splints scattered with mad, mad thoughts of heathers and stephens in the improvisational flesh; Found all-a-them in the details of clowns, in classic drawn-out remarks, payoffs for history on the face of earth told by musky musky mimes on colorful May days. What a crazed sleep you were in when you balanced all those books on your head, and how 'bout those smoky snowflakes melting in slow motion? The pills, the medication cures the loser phantasm mastered. Breathe in gulp the deepest random decades, City, Go meet the Town where the seeds are aplenty. Forego the answers in the trickery and drive. Chris Weige | California, TX. | Share a key intuit
In the curly corners stumbling
The angry margin must escape from illusion.
To escape from illusion illuminate;
Solve the problem.
Take it out of the city to a country tree;
apricot, peach, anything you see or make a new fruit.
Ripe ones, ripe ones here by the highway booth;
Cobra sly-eye,
Antiseptic bee cave stew;
Cowboy’s just tongue and rock star’s roadkill avatar;
Smoke words begin to tease passersby in speeding cars
Sprawling chainlink in whitewashed tires, homemade icing, cream, antifreeze;
In the curly corners stumbling I buzz about salt
and grass three shades of ivy,
hunter-weed to the edge of umber,
these acres with their silvery ice-water wells & wooden ladders
climbing up billowy sky which is why I bother see
which is why I salivate which is why I…
It Will Float Just Deep Enough
+ To displace a pound of water look closely over the ocean floor today. Moreover, remove that old cork or block of wood. At this elevation you will not be swept up by water.
+ In the same way, do your origin or the origin of a close friend, neighbor, or lover.
+ There are two ways of investigating enormous masses of granite. (This is similar to the principle that enables us to answer why a cork floats.)
+ In the case of the continents it is the vague outlines of the structure of the Colossal Corks. (Granite is about gravity measurements – certain amounts of granite and idols lie.)
+ A block of wood, being heavier than a cork, reaches deep down to support the three subterranean levels untouched by laws above the ocean floor.
+ - The bodies are buoyant in the crust. It is possible to perceive material in which they are immersed. Sensitive instruments will detect the basement layer – also, their true make-up. (Both approaches will work.)
+ Indeed they have massive roots.
Chris Weige | from The Richmond Review '02 | Share a key intuit
Twelve Silhouettes Waiting in Space
Street mattresses follow pedestrians
on the far side of the lime green trees
The film dreams magic nurses
outfitted blue wading in the rainwater
Such humane desires
(the animal felt forbidden)
In the windows in the moonlit
obsessive horse
Sex bodies saved themselves for the happiest hands,
metaphors moved vehicles through towns in the middle of forests rigorously recorded,
Hypnotic swells of the Pacific becoming (that animal)
Call it Love, call it a plethora in the dark, distant alit mountain…
Chris Weige '07 From The Pulchritudinous Review No.1 Ed: Renee Zepeda
Sweet Dairy Whey (be a pussycat be uh-huh brave)
Big Bhanji Bhang or Silo Sinsemilla;
Where did ‘Is’ begin?
The totality of the universe in its
Fundamental existence?
Likewise cell, likewise galaxy, the dimensional
Intersections of reality -
Vortex on vortex on vortex on end,
Internal coherence. Diatonic scales,
Cooking with gas on the orbit on the beam,
Seeds placing bets in stalls,
Climactic walks evoking tenderness in
Improvisational songs,
Like when you talk…
The ball, the bundle,
On the nose on the button on the bridge:
Phenomenal Hot Shot.
It’s a deal, me too, sure thing; I’ll drink to that,
I hear ya…
Like you say, “Groovy all the way gravy.”
Up Upping Scare Up the Beach
Crawl on up ascend me.
Emerge utterly, Love.
Revel in every ear ever raw ever loose,
The things the wobbly blows a prizefighter TKO.
Tip the cello.
Tip the erect bass.
Tip the blue skull of the sky out the window:
I am swimming in the flesh,
Over wild boomtowns and stunning rococo churches;
An unlimited field opens up like old timers untangling a rhyme.
Human joints re-invent the male and rock n’ roll in our time,
In our time, with the romance of the 20th Century flying by,
The beginning shedding leaves in a blowout, an evening feeding and whoop-dee-do-la. Lovey-dovey artsy-fartsy air-rush climb on up,
Savvy these birthmarks and underdeveloped photos of superstitions.
I love the inside beat and blossom by the freak tide pouring down my throat.
By the way, who is tending your beautiful blisters?
Scrubbing yr back with sound?
Chris Weige | California, TX. | Share a key intuit
School, dutifully
Indecent and profane white-hot through the muse veins;
exalted Prince for instance; really rich titles and
pajama parties when social dynamite and hieroglyph outburst
or flare up like
Naughty bird balanced on Formica table tricky
under mattresses as on pressing board and cabin porch
or private creek nude in the woods Wimberley,
Birthday uniform on a blanket over pillowy rock.
We had the lips sparked and meditating,
Dark smoke exhaled, and separated by mine each hand:
Pigtails and buttocks;
Good mood love and happy fate spilling spokes in the boomerang park;
The mood swings around again – her legs become spaced-out steeples.
I just look up sweaty woman cause I’m down.
Bendy
remember - lend that root a lengthy review, and once in a while place an obnoxious bet on yourself, for your own good word on i see a photograph lending a look at me and you, Bendy, hanging out over obnoxious neighborhoods who are not romantic looking automatic acting the part: we are not only our masks, schisms, isms and sadistic sadisnt its. you don't remember that yet? raid senile melodies then, rewolf and repedal where words lead the way bury the whirlruts thirsty along the lengths of the roots, review the scenes a time or two between the other drugs and bet: usually they do when they do that anyhoo nowadays - it's like nike's in yr blood and it's never enough. Sad, isn't it? You and me between the toxic title bouts speaking in seeds. Over there then rewolf word-in word-out drugs and melodies nestled romantic-like at your foot and we find a way out/in/you win. Chris Weige | Reckon | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit
Priddy
Whatever it is kisses
Brick walls facing fists,
Then the number and the tune -
All the lovers of our youth, Blue.
Then the phone booth empties
& Art records the payback and anti-tongue.
She roars, ah, and expects the sun going,
“How did you find me and remember how to read
the Word on my body?”
Teasing!
A mutter: a given name amongst so many, many happening.
A catnap: that first nervous lick.
Chris Weige | California, TX. | Share a key intuit
Pages paged together with glue glued gold
Either way by the way it’s cool
when ozzy went glam you were not in a trance
you were on doomsday and swiftwater way learning a new language
listen yr right remember the roadkill riddlers n’ that professor in the newscast hypnotized
by an actor playing an expert playing with your fears -
with rich philosophical eye roll back recall - be the rainful faceless summer snow n’
startle the road, dormant dormitory doorman
i’ll tell you because of course because yr what fun way
pleading for pills
yr palms are maps with hallways and pointers
tell me about yr temples
the colour of lifetimes and make it symbols
Chris Weige | California, TX
The Full Frontal Itch
The elbow fiend opens the sweat hand
Thump-thumping the wounds on open road,
Flashback wind in every star trap,
All loudmouth thoroughfare rabbits;
The heart-shaped asses blister and sigh over cool night air,
Brittle grass and flatland charcoal;
The mighty quiet heartache radio
Will find habit to give in.
Will go for the shell.
Has folded over one ear with one mouth.
Will: (1) Fix yr zipper; (2) Heal yr body relax yr mind.
Chris Weige | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit
Pharmakeutikos (n-i-L-atir)
For sale for sale fit and shivery spoons full of wordfood for infants because no one really looks
sound bytes become books for unhappy children, or they drug them into submission
what are you going to do? they are elite think tanks engineering sociopsycho culture shocks through
psychic weaponry, mass hypnosis, pharmaceuticals - electronic mantras fulfilling when taken with rv’s - electromagnetic music
feeding messages such as obey the, be a good mass producer consumer citizen be, what we say goes, this is yr life
go-go-shopping-stop, don’t look up-down-drop, stop-go-run-no, eat, slow, succeed in this way and in no other way go
swindledom (keep quiet)
is this document easily accessible?
is this document intended for you?
Kissed my ear the hormone part you really wanna want
A casual place
A casual place that isn’t crowded and loud
A casual place with silverware sounds in the background;
A casual place
A movie and a long walk
A casual place cunnilingus -
We should talk we should talk we should talk.
Applaud sex and death beds, applaud!
Time and Your Frantic Feet
Hello,
This is Wires, and we will cross again.
Did you and Mojo break the ice?
If I haven’t already told you, you look super, strange.
Super if you look strange: extraordinary.
Are you wearing what you said you would wear?
Everything should be the color of your skin.
It has those remarkable patterns:
Forget the deluge of lace this moment…
I see your ideas and things get REAL again,
And I do remember the words to eat.
They probably get a great view
Of the Sunrise and Set from the aperture, swimming through me.
I do recall taking furious notes negotiating a turning row
With a musical truckload of girls, overjoyed with the well of flesh.
Encore: Kissing and hollering over limber lip loops aching,
And they might have all been you.
I had a chat with your mirror once. In becoming your face it learned to think and speak. It lifted your chin and gave your face a cool light. It made one and then another precious bare leg.
I stared at your big toe, your strut, your depressions, the one-liners; your sultry something else by no means forgotten.
I say this without regret. You come on with this beautiful bandage and heart giving in, confided. You are here and every head Eros:
Would by the word thunderous lovemaking.
Would by the tongue the display of everything.
At hand then, would you want to run?
Chris Weige | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit
Hello, This is Wires, and we will cross again. Did you and Mojo break the ice? If I haven’t already told you, you look super, strange. Super if you look strange: extraordinary. Are you wearing what you said you would wear? Everything should be the color of your skin. It has those remarkable patterns: Forget the deluge of lace this moment... I see your ideas and things get REAL again, And I do remember the words to eat. They probably get a great view Of the Sunrise and Set from the aperture, swimming through me. I do recall taking furious notes negotiating a turning row With a musical truckload of girls, overjoyed with the well of flesh. Encore: Kissing and hollering over limber lip loops aching, And they might have all been you. I had a chat with your mirror once. In becoming your face it learned to think and speak. It lifted your chin and gave your face a cool light. It made one and then another precious bare leg. I stared at your big toe, your strut, your depressions, the one-liners; your sultry something else by no means forgotten. I say this without regret. You come on with this beautiful bandage and heart giving in, confided. You are here and every head Eros: Would by the word thunderous lovemaking. Would by the tongue the display of everything. At hand then, would you want to run? Chris Weige | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit
A Longing for the Memory of Eyes
Horse teeth, gold teeth, bless me body shot, gangway fleshpot.
Universe, Universe, show me we are
Your priceless laugh-talk,
Your hair as I write this in Texas between two antique typewriters.
We have been with you and loved you all the way to Rome! We are louder now in the United States where She was Made. In the same Made vision, very softly now: Om.
She seed it; she said it was great. She transported to the bowels of the earth communication in opiate jive. She seed the cities every maze. She seed the memory of eyes:
Nama Mai Won, Nama Mai.
Nama Mai Won, Nama Mai.
Nama Mai Won, Nama Mai.
Body Poetic
Today I’d like it to rain
Today I’d like the ocean taste,
The overpass coming on to me,
small campfires, crowded tents.
Today I’d like a better charade,
a better song to dance to.
Above here below, splitting fusion spitting atom with a sneeze,
nose ropes and off-color teeth, dressing on the cheap;
I too worship a giant stick of butter.
Today I’d like to slip between seconds and sweat atmosphere,
the scent of reconstruction as if you didn’t see it coming;
For this I will tiptoe across desolate fog on continuous wave, transmitter.
The art of sublime obscenity, the body inside of the egg between two sparks;
Up with Her whose image recurs every place I walk.
In the hills and in the projects people hum a million tunes
Two relics vanished in a television series: A kid and a radio forty winks; little knew the pie. Critics stood out in the rain like whiskey in a rotting sink, Reeking: dead ringers for the little guy. Staring out over the not-seen desert where the often scorned were laid out scorching, the Giant demanded a many-minded attitude, and signed off with nice emissions smelling like herb. There were good reasons not to collapse.
Chris Weige | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit
Chewing Hair
Whoa man dear me in back of garden kissing feet and
Tempting curve of shoulder, twirling locks round ear maps of this Priceless state and sugary face, photographing fingerprints away for frames and time travel, mood fires and dimpled thighs;
Whoa man in awe drawing hands toward break of breastbone, small of back, obscene freckled saviors, astounding calves taut in tip-toe
In focus - ants nibbling in slight rows go unnoticed.
Whoa man dear me bent knee kissing origin of heartbeat human, longing for rendition statue or amber, no end of breath near or faces fading away in arms of clouded acquaintance, but the ever-moment aroma and stir of soul, tulips shifting for rise of sun and track of bite
Chewing hair above forehead perspiring, marvelous belly perspiring, gold of innocent backs and deserted dirt road over guard of cedar and tin fence perspiring.
Whoa man dear me erased leaning back inhaling earth sheets in expanding chest, language gone underground seventh heaven bliss, no last words only lips to tease the sky in its chlorine dream breathing poetry off salty skin.
Chris Weige | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit
Blister Beetle and the Caterpillar's Kimono
In case of an arrangement of heaven and states,
a thousand years are up and bravo, ultrarevolutionaries,
beekeeper, barkeep, orizabus subaziro!
Zenzizenzizenzic has more Z’s than any other;
Eighth power of a number and regarding those eight is the first;
So which is the last?
(FORTY is the only number which has its letters in alphabetical order. FIRST also shares this property; ONE is the only number with its letters in reverse alphabetical order. ONE THOUSAND contains the letter A, but none of the words from one to nine hundred ninety-nine has an A.)
Chris Weige | Austin, TX. | Share a key intuit