Fwd: RealPoetik - Lewis LaCook

— [email protected] wrote:
> Date: Fri, 25 Oct 2002 07:54:02 -0700 (PDT)
> From: [email protected]
> Subject: RealPoetik - Lewis LaCook
> To: undisclosed-recipients:;
>
> Lewis LaCook is a poet, musician and net artist
> whose work has appeared in CTheory Multimedia,
> Rhizome's artBase, Cauldron and Net, Artifacts at
> Web Del Sol, 5-trope, _sidereality, Big Bridge,
> Wired Art for Wired Hearts, Poethia, Aught, Lost And
> Found Times and ArtCrimes, among many others.
> In 2000 Anabasis published his long poem Cling as a
> chapbook; in 2001 BeeHive published his Odious
> Art of Lewis LaCook as an e-book for the Palm Pilot.
> Most of his net works can be seen at
> http://www.lewislacook.com ; his music can be heard
> at:
>
>
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
>
>
>
> HERO
>
> George W. Bush leaned into his two-way
> SuperFriends ring. He knew he'd have to get
> back-up for this one; the Axis of Evil had
> is gray again, another overcast morning, and
>
> I wake later than usual. Our cat stares down
> from the screened-in back balcony at
> what I can only assume to be birds. She licks
> enemies of Freedom have taken the oil!" he
>
> screamed into the transmitter. "In about
> three seconds, no-one in America will be able
> to start their cars!" Dynaman frowned. "What
> tired slightly, eyes still gummed by sleep
>
> and blurry. Our neighbors crawl wearily into their
> cars. The sun shivers, and pulls clouds closer.
>
>
> WHITE GRITS AND CATSUP
>
> When I first began my fascinating study on the
> effects of local
> rainfall on genital shape and compaction, thousands
> tethered like cattle, herded like sheep, appeared to
> me in pre-dawn
> drowse-dreams, wherein the silent room and the
> breath of my
> mate mixed in a drizzle of soliloquoy with vague
> shapes lucidly
> drawn on the insides of my eyelids. One version,
> called Doctor,
> mimicked a Rogerian psychotherapist, one that
> brushed my teeth
> quite regularly, listened intensely for the muffled
> hum of
> fascination growling on the other side of the line.
> Peter Ganick
> said: and doesn't the treeline instead look like
> someone took
> bites from the sky? I try to imagine that shy mouth,
> often paired
> with descriptive skill. She said: your genitals, at
> rest:
> great whitish flowering room. I, too, took it upon
> myself
> once, heaving it up over my chest to hurl at the
> taste of tobacco
> mixed with drizzle latte almost too late to save the
> heart
> beating; the heart just pumelling your poor stupid
> friend to mush.
>
>
> FOOD FIGHT
>
> You know, she dribbles sunshine
> over trees from nipples maiming
> the goddess virus, the goddess virus
>
> surviving near total nuclear
> ice cream fudge over the hinges to
> Hey, fuck you, my man, this year's
> hardly working payments spawn shadows
>
> spun from spinning spines, cotton candy
> cotton candy, like gnawing fiberglass
>
> with sugar shotguns, sugar shotguns,
> you see, the door that flowers with
> light just beneath, through which
> we see her, standing over a bloodied
>
> Absolutely! Waiter comes back with
> swimming in the meat virus, the meat
> virus like stones from a colonoscopy
>
> or copies of his head, recently divorced
> from the trunks of backlit trees, zombie
>
> pastry, zombie pastry, oh my in that
>
> light we can seal up whole natural grains,
>
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> __________________________________________________
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=====

http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/


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