The Phlegmatic Radio Operator (google poems)

Posted by in Blog, on February 26, 2016

Over the past few yearh-rad3rs or so I have been constructing poems based on Google searches. I really enjoy the method, and thus far have constructed nearly 200 sonnets based on everything from “HENRIK IBSEN AT BURNING MAN” and “IMPASSIVELY POSTED EMOTICONS” to “ŽIŽEK ATE ALL THE PEANUTS” and “RUBBER BOOTS MAKE FANTASTIC HOMES FOR UNICORNS.

At some level these sonnets are post-post-flarf … at another they reflect on constrained, procedural writing and the dynamics of search parameters … and at yet another the estimation of the current state of Internet Culture and Culture in general.
In March, 2014 I presented the method, and the initial 20 sonnets, as part of the Digital Arena: Electronic Literature Reading Series at the Bregen Public Library.

 

I have posted 10 Sonnets below:


 

SCREAMING HUMAN GOATS

maybe I’ll stick with llamas
limited to petting farms
as witnessed in this supercut
of a mystery, apparently

even our pop-stars can’t escape
the sound of disgruntled whimpering
I almost banged my head against the wall
and even now there are poor attempts

some person on earth edited the
Warlords prepatch
inviting the internet to beam up
utterly weird animals

It had me in stitches
the zombie apocalypse

 

**—–**

WIFFLEBALL WITH ROBERT WALSER

along with the hollow plastic bat
The radioprotective effect may be
oversized handbags, with their size not connected
to those values that undergird civilization

he thought about doing something good
to play and stay to drink and eat
In the aftermath of the circus
of my professional life

the only way to walk your dogs is by
taking into account the extent of losses
and the state and county websites failing to serve
mythologically and scientifically

aerodynamic idiosyncrasies can throw
the expanding English-language

**—–**

NICKELS FOR NIETZSCHE

hello and welcome to my main blog
a nugget of culture that makes
for the equipment and essentials i will bring
to the deepening of events

the banks blew up the bubble and
noted whether the kids were trick-or-treating
in a wild new direction
to act decisively in a time of crisis

in conjunction with national feral cat day
the brutal, ugly truth of human nature
finds only a sense of unreality and
a glazed doughnut from a drive-through

the future refused to reveal anything
but i rather enjoyed the experience

**—–**

CROP CIRCLES AND LEMONADE

simulations of environments and human faces
show you the difference between
ultrasound and cereal nodes bent
by a stampede consisting of three sheep

the residents might be a bit displeased
with the intensifying conflict between
the existence of years and mountains
of divinity dressed in the skin of a carp

joined by a whole group of food bloggers
i had gone to art school
to create a navigation framework
and sell out quickly on the weekends

having played one too many gta games
the summer was over

**—–**

FLOPHOUSE WITH BECKETT

inside the water tank of a skid row flophouse
he had played golf while skipping
a more pastoral exemplar of the melodramatic form
eager to avoid the obvious

the consequences of beckett reconsidering
ugly people doing ugly things
peeks at forbidden artifacts
pros and flophouse heroes coming together

devoted to the work of a giant of documentary cinema
remakes of the karate kid and the a-team
shouting and dramatic gesturing sacrificed
to cut about an hour out of the play

young to middle aged men used beckett hall as a flophouse
double and single-spaced in blocks of text

**—–**

SEASCAPE WITH DONUTS

volunteers with powerboats
painting on the beach in crystal cove as
a red jeep does “donuts” across the third hole
made of creme fraiche and vanilla bean

we were blessed with an abundance of zucchini
from all periods of human history
filled with political intrigue and
the musicality that words can provide

it’s all so very hard to take in
papered in a rare mexican pebble print
and we must all have waffles, and
a cluster of towers made from stacked patterned ceramics

into a thick wall of pea-soup fog
and the most buttery, creamiest mashed potatoes

**—–**

TRISTAM’S IN A PICKLE

the congratulations have been flowing in
from the top to the bottom of the food-production chain
having won the hearts of the french people
the implications for the novel are clear:
television programs will be augmented
for the sometimes-overlooked literary grist
when i was a lad, most novels weren’t about
food waste being fed to pigs

bottled apples and rhubarb, and a bottle of plums
restored in a leisurely fashion, by a lightly boiled egg
the boudicca of the middle class meekly conceded
the chilli pickle became increasingly defined
and finished the final rewrite
so i’ve drowned my sorrows in dairy milk

**—–**

THE SOPHISTS WON’T EAT ASPARAGUS

the asparagus was generously buttered and
immersed in a stark reality where education
is merely a play upon words for
most things wrapped in bacon

from atlantic cod to acadian redfish
like foul fumes arising from a drain
proponents of the latest philosophy
found flaws in the arguments of particular sophists

by not being too reluctant and coy
to compress the ingredients and form a cylinder
american politics is hamstrung by
horse flesh, wrapped in fabrics

having grown up along the shore
wheat is a trick that would disgrace the sophists

**—–**

HAZELNUT CORDIALS WITH MIKE TYSON

in the graveyard of forgotten fights
we took a seat and soaked up
the muted colors of the vegetable rainbow
and re-negotiated outside a laundromat

he offered me a brace of squirrels
and more waxed paper
to lower bad cholesterol, while
soaking in the tub

he’s probably kept the piece of ear
in the comfort of the suite
to keep from getting dysentery
for the good of boxing

people don’t understand because
these are special garlic cloves

**—–**

FOUCAULT, MASTER OF MARIO KART

i want to share with the community of youtube
the aesthetic value of fairground rides
and playing is not hindered by any flaws in
the hands of pixelated bosses

honest storytelling has fallen far
away from generic philosophical musings
to resist the never ending accumulation of culture
and being batman is just damn cool

i’m struggling with the controls
of those regularities that position statements
within a heterotopia
or a game system that comes with a butt-load
of explosions not to mock our yearning
for more shenanigans as players

**—–**

 

 

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