"particle fever" and "mariposa"
particle fever
1.
we rely too much on the luck of others:
he talks to himself - a dry-brained mouthy word machine
rubs the silver residue from the numbers to see if he has won
$50 that’s not even enough for a happy birthday
that’s it - a happy birthday 805F 3 whatever it is - it’s a constant mumble
# 1 most 3 again too low 8 for me to here 1st avenue
5 (inarticulate) i could still take the 3rd avenue bus
it’s a living right / very old foreign accents
he’s so busy seeking his fortune that he totally misses his stop
long line – you can get off here you take a number 1 to a number 6 or an
A or E or C or F at west 4th – these aren’t numbers but they work
fortunes made & lost – particles smashed together & separated
circling each other like dueling swordsmen or lovers or flocks of lost birds
more long lines
we are given a perfect blend of city & country stone blood concrete & space
where it all began – the essential world both real & imagined
a blank slate - invoked ersatz & computer imaging
the picture we see > the result of this bombardment is just a re-enactment
happening precisely while the real thing is or isn’t / happening
a sign on a store on a once fish stained smelly Chinatown street
says WARM - says – HIPPIES WELCOME -
says look for the charm of decay elsewhere
now he only talks to birds & counts the spoons
breaks twigs in his mind & waits for his number to hit.
2.
he dreams of a new physics - his memory muscle remembering little
he awakens under pressure - dismisses the event as a disaster
a new EDEN that can never be - just more media hype
the long line – an eruption of interruptions – an endless ellipsis
a song eclipsed – reading the melody upside down / backward
& we are left with a short line that sounds too much like the original
say # 6 – the last in the order even tho there are 7 parts
the original had only 3 – but he keeps scratching
for how long will this go on – scratching mumbling short sentences
long lines – all waiting for the media to watch as the wonders begin
an omniverse – a multiverse within supersymmetry –
an elucidated secretly overweight universe –
overweight women discussing their dating habits over hamburgers
the long line enters again – wish / risk / a backlist of sales reps
fabiola nobodies adept at tomfoolery / expanding warehouse precedentals
new equipment & backward promotions & lovers of the death machine
at a loss for words: the thing is the things which >
art & science colliding the science of art the art of science
do the math it’s all there scratch head 7 / 5 13/ 22 / uh
long only as the wind dreams / are least important to our survival / THE UNIVERSE reverse rhythms / the long line / eclipsis / are the things that make us human / a place to inhabit / visit / able as we are NOT / 400 years of symmetry
400 years of slavery / the Blakean theory of the universe / multiverse /
FEARFUL SUPERSYMMETRY
beams auto-clavé proposal ATLAS high COLLSIONS energy
DREAM: poetry & the possibility of sensual sex
dream of physics / taking physics / rumble of the bus tires
idling of the engine / vibration of the shocks / motionless stoplight / bumpy ride
circling & circling & circling / finally colliding / pudding just for you /
high priest of the good ear / ta(i)nn(t)ed / complimentary speak lady / mute-on electron/ neutron / to hold her beholden / he scratches & scratches rubbing off the numbers / then the collision / not 115 for supersymmetry / not 140 for a multiverse but somewhere in between a 126.5 or 125.6 / so there might be a continuation of something somewhere / or a falling apart & i say the fix is in a few more years of experimentation that tell us where the beginning ends & the ending begins & the GOD PARTICLE still somewhat elusive / adida amira right there a warm february night / it’s right there / the assimilation of different styles / the absorption of different solar systems / the realization that he’s won very little / his head suddenly slumping into his knees / nothing / 1 / 3 / birthdays / 8 / 1st avenue / 3rd avenue / 6th avenue / missed chances missed stops / the wrong bus / lexington avenue / the hickscups / the goddamned GOD particle / that keeps our lives together / that tears our lives apart / a disabled wheelchair / a brief pause / this ersatz motionless priority of property / you must give up i tell him / he looks / scratches /// \\\\ whatever - he replies – it’s the red hand of GOSH – i almost scream – whatever - it’s right there – i point nowhere – whatever - he looks / scratches / GIVE UP – I loudly whimper – he gets up – whatever he mumbly whimpers – IT’s RIGHT THERE – he bumbles he scratches - so far so good he ciphers all that grey matter grey stuff grey particles grey dust grey ghosts all those numbers collisions where they all go ? wrong stop – you’ll have to walk a bit
have a good one i say – i’m getting off here –
the cross fire of an avalanche
a cavalcade of transitional #’s
though his atoms have been split time & time again he still cannot find
the center of his being
where is form when we need it \ or at least a semblance of form
i exi(s)t first the long line wait i say or don’t wait
there’s 1 to 6 or A or E or C or B or F or D & all this equals 21 –
what color is tonight ? the GOD particle asks me
turn the paper upside down’s my answer.
walking backward thru the light i sat ate & found myself talking to 4 distinctly
different dead men & there in the corner my coffin waited patiently for me
mariposa
there is no need for debt or debate when one does not mean anything to anybody the important point is not to break the chain to be polite – to say yes & thank you to be accommodating to supplement even supplant desires – to persist –
consomenations
irritated whites drinking Negrons
ah butterfly the nemesis is you - short life spans colliding
perhaps all life changing as you change
encounter & encompass grief – hear the flutter of 100,000
the sonic tracks of a silent film
the debt converted to smoke
windows clouded over
city spitting clouds
that wedge
between the arches
of her
high heeled shoes
operator operator i am coming to the end of a tunnel
the light is beginning to spread
the evacuation of the dirt that is my heart is in full swing
i said i’m no longer afraid to look at what i see on the street
shuttered windows – der wekstahlvez
paper blowing across an empty street
debt or depth or death
which is it – all fool’s gold
no matter what the substance
all duped no matter what the price.
werder da cat’s on its quiet pursuit
the unrest of pigeons
as the prison gates open & you are released like a steam engine
into the street – released from your oustem –
& we walk like comrades & i pour the morning’s waste out of a bucket
as the crowd increases from single file to tenfold
rows up & down pathways / cobbles cabals cables
stairways & staring soldiers marching
the organ grinder playing
the draw bridge near collapse
ah mariposa
the factory awaits its occupants – what is the debt they owe
we owe?
a pipe – a moustache – the gears beginning to spin in a world of mass production
where things are produced for the masses
though some are only for the privileged few
finely shaved & polished shards of steel
infinite bottles filled & loaves fresh baked
fires stoked
chimneys pushcarts / loaded
cars washed - garbage disposed of
(yet always more garbage) – days always beginning
children off to school if the season’s right
weggelerollerda window up gates up schlachterha - mer
curtains up
blinds up – mannequins – horses – up – pillows aired – blinders on
rugs beaten – butter flies remembering what they were then forgetting
just as quickly – shoes shined – nails polished
a beautiful walk thru the park at night
the band playing – the globe changing (color)
junkies all quietly tucked away somewhere
dancers as graceful as flowers
crack one legged crutch man
no stories about war or war stories
just elevator rides and roll-top desks
typewriters telephones & the printing press
operator operator i am coming to the end of a tunnel
the light is beginning to spread
the evacuation of the dirt that is my heart is in full swing
at all other times i will dial 311 the barber smiles
the sound of lighting a cigarette on a singing man’s knee
like achtspracht breathing
no debt no debate – grief for the moment everlasting
fly away mariposa – away your colorful wings
the naked children are here only to exploit you
to explore you
to touch your fascinating wings -
it was even shorter than anticipated – a quick beautiful twin burst
too short & me preoccupied with 3 different lives
& she flew torn & traumatized she flew
but cacophony calculation dark spectrum debt ceiling & me indebted to few men
heart strumming – cycles – disposing of the evenings waste
one stage is flying great distances to approach the indecipherable
travelling lord i’m travelling lord i’m tryin to make heaven my home
rocks – next –
operator operator i am coming to the end of a tunnel
the light is beginning to spread
the evacuation of the dirt that is my heart is in full swing
i can’t begin to tell you how it looks from where i sit
lamp trim & burning
end time dream time
indecipherable redness that reflects an obvious exit
desperation on every corner
i can’t begin to tell you – even from here
in this parking lot there is a history of butterflies
guns money jelly rolls
just as there is a history of lost pages – gaps in memory
always lost here in this same cocoon
there is for me @ any rate
the mystery of a smile & why it occurs or when
in all these photographs i look so pensive
angry barely smiling disturbed – all bare knuckled
& @ the end i must shed my cocoon
in a tunnel without end where depth & ceiling are one
as they press in upon me-
nemesis – is me oh butterfly – coal dust - the price i put on things
& i can’t begin to tell you where it all began
but look there & there & there & there
& you’ll begin to see the end.
gold dust air greed - so fly away Mariposa fly away
"particle fever" was first published in Before Passing (Great Weather for MEDIA, 2015) and nominated for a Pushcart. Both of these poems were recorded as spoken word pieces by Steve Dalachinsky and The Snobs, on the album ec(H)o - system.
Steve Dalachinsky has been writing poetry for many years and has worked with such musicians as William Parker, Susie Ibarra, Matthew Shipp, Roy Campbell, Daniel Carter, Sabir Mateen, Mat Maneri, Federico Ughi, Rob Brown, Tim Barnes and Jim O’Rourke. Recent books include The Final Nite & Other Poems: Complete Notes From A Charles Gayle Notebook 1987-2006 (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2006), and the second edition of A Superintendent’s Eyes (Unbearable Books/Autonomedia, 2013). His spoken word albums include Incomplete Directions, I thought it was the end of the world then the end of the world happened again with Federico Ughi, and Phenomena of Interference with Matthew Shipp. The second edition of Trust Fund Babies is forthcoming from Unlikely Books.