A black widow poised on the ruby bracelet
as the transparent tooth was wrapped in dog hair.
Tarot sharks circled the weather.
It was the same scene in fog city.
The library had only one copy
Tristan Tzara, the late father of the Dada movement, once said something interesting. But it serves no purpose to quote him.
Please understand that Tzara was capable of being common, devoid of daring details. It was his secret that he realized it is also ours- that he never saw how common this secret made him. How common our costumes. How medieval our feigned interests.
Your image stretches across the great northwest reclining and nude and your memory space invades my western hemisphere I often quote your more memorable quips and can’t quite quit the habit of mainlining the intoxicating and misleading rhetoric of your…
East New York looks like Munich after WWII. Guts of buildings, no certain # of stories, spray paint black where there had been windows, the copper piping stolen. Blocks and blocks of desolation ghetto. They come in the dark from…
Excerpt from The Exilist by Will Cathcart
Exile is breaking away from the fire, from the warm glow of the circle and creating your own narrative alone in that faceless cold. It’s about embracing the darkness and joining the night, becoming intimate with fear—seducing fear—wearing out fear. Exile is howling at the moon’s numinous question mark. Exile is the boldest of thirsts. It’s about overriding boundaries both external and internal. We are all exiles from a past, from innocence and from a home. So embrace your chronological banishment. Own it.