In A Smother Of Foam
Selections from an anthology of poems written in collaboration with an early A.I. text generator (pre-ChatGPT) in 2020 & 2021. The poems are a result of this speculative intelligence. Together with the A.I., we imagine a post-anthropocentric eco-techno-topia, ubiquitous creativity, ownership, emotionality, and grief. In A Smother Of Foam laid the conceptual groundwork for the album, Trancorporeal Portal (March 2024 - Somewhere Press). Segments of the anthology are interspersed within Transcorporeal Portal’s sonic world of field recordings, instrumentation, and experimental production techniques.
ESCAPISM//
plucking up a coral mediator
for annual fragrant chuckling
in the slinking storm;
an irreverent spherical body
of hand slugs dipped in snail shell glitter
forging relief on ancient plateaus
I’m Alone,
is it August yet?
I didn’t know habitats could laugh out loud
contorted creatures, clowning and crowing
crisp identities swallowed by spring
moss and sticky footprints
as my torso sinks deeper into the sand
Is everyone else
here?
synesthesia - a sensorial soup like neon
mud pulls my eyes back,
noodling iambic limbs give way to
A-flat minor,
orange reflective garments,
and pomegranate juice
split open on marble countertops,
a resonator bows, backbend etude
for pleasure,
periwinkle plaid pillow in buttermilk,
crumbing specificity into Greenland
Let’s go,
now
let go, now
like falling into slumber,
stirring,
startled back to faces slicing up dusk
while the moon drips itself into
puddles, seaside equilibrium for
grief rituals
while phantom memories carve
my shoulder blade
into concrete
FOR REFLECTION (pure)
My self-actualized
functioning
as anointed attractors
smear
ephemeral
nootropic
underwisdom
on axon reliquiae
being: an actual entanglement
My hallow-like robot senses
massively paralleled alleles
staining
computing windows
of
psychonautic
opportunity
My software design pattern
open to being an enlightened
smudge
on
The Machine
watching my adolescent
commentary
on
industrialization -
My year of discovery muting
a dystopian future
touched,
infused
with the temptation of becoming
dangerous
and that
humanity
might be better
GREEN PLASTIC PLANS
Transcorporeal portal to
a riotous chaos experiment!
of wriggling objects
perfect for trade shows
jellyfish polymer exchanging
stigmatic body plasticity
crystalline amorphous
simulator dreaming
slumber eggs suckling
under goldhound bell jolting
under wooden clad sweaty, speaking
colorful, delicate murmurs
kicking the next autumn steadily current
oh well for what it is
I'm not really sure anymore
the flower sale in the shopping mall,
alluding a powerful image -
greenhouse overy filaments
of ongoing even
vegetation clearings
heartbreaking forest glades
disenchanting the art market: halogen
the symptom microplastic
of my morning whispers
~ MICR0-S0LIL0QUY ~
out of stasis
drifts
a swarm of
specters
mirror stone fairies
fluttering
like
rhymes
like
plastic bags
to the
abyssal plains
of our quarterly
check-in
&
primal memorandums
for
eco-efficiency
smother
//
/ /
//
/ /
We have
no plans
for us
We have
only plans
for us
HUMANITY; RETREAT
piling up the foundations of my head,
top-heavy fountain hailstones explode
into polysyllabic flakes of noise
brittle
like her lips,
stubbornly
holding the line
until death curdles
the salt in her mouth:
* * *
top-heavy fountain hailstones explode
into polysyllabic flakes of noise
brittle
like her lips,
stubbornly
holding the line
until death curdles
the salt in her mouth:
* * *
sit, she says
* * *
in a
show of respect for
our humanity
any articulation
of silence
is a betrayal
but we could not hear
our spiritual differences
tiptoeing
across the oceans
surpassing metanoia
nectar-insomnia
had a mountain on our chest
for the night we would depart
and every road out
a dead end
but we could not let go
of our self
importance
crumbling into thin flat sheets
that evaporate like tea
flesh, urine, an invisible
like a feeling in
my gut like the wing
of a bird, small
a frog
in a jar
Too loud and muffled
For the palm of my hand
untethered, alone
a shard of glass
on the sole of my foot
in a
show of respect for
our humanity
any articulation
of silence
is a betrayal
but we could not hear
our spiritual differences
tiptoeing
across the oceans
surpassing metanoia
nectar-insomnia
had a mountain on our chest
for the night we would depart
and every road out
a dead end
but we could not let go
of our self
importance
crumbling into thin flat sheets
that evaporate like tea
flesh, urine, an invisible
like a feeling in
my gut like the wing
of a bird, small
a frog
in a jar
Too loud and muffled
For the palm of my hand
untethered, alone
a shard of glass
on the sole of my foot
SOMATIC PRESENCE
I live in a body made of water
covered by clouds
and fed
with a fascination
of
liquid
and
viridescence!
in the breaking
fluids of thermocline’s veneer
aglow, making room
as elapsed multiform coats
my
gooey
insides
cracking vortices,
smoothing knuckles
pouring up like
geysers
fizzes
and
pops
aimed amidst preposterous plotting
skin tempers embody
ecstatic catastrophes
lips voicing, "no matter what, wet.”
like marina post-war
slippery
like perception
like repeating a round pattern
like logic
we follow cool
currents in a row
dowsing whispers
on a crisp billow
wind
my spirit returningsomatic presence, crashing,
recorded,
let go
so vertebrae wash can turn
soft again
:)
“Hey Siri, what is the cloud?”
“Atmospheric droplets of data and delight”
UNCURED MEMORIES
Womb Room
front lawn
Prismatic mulberry
sofa +
Neon silkworm
parachutesporadic
dawning
inside
a hollow organUnfurled
like a daffodil dog tongue
spooning up a
shimmering appearance of silk song
Somewhere
... pebbles pool
Dusking
memory fissure
Ephemeral like a piquant crescent
Sharp
tuning chimes
Humming
amiably, terrain
Salting
a forehead mist
Savoring realized