Cody-Rose Clevidence

Botticelli and the Spam-Bots;

Ctrl Alt New, Thou

I.

the dogs are in the wheat (again)

the sun is in the sheaf, Delilah

Delilah on the radio, again, and hand-

over-hand, I, give the gift again— & hand-

over-hand, I grunt & wish—

death the gift gives circumspect

a vow, a new vowel to learn, absence of

the word is grief, replenished absence, low

& behold from the kitchens of memory, suffused,

it come become before me, undone, come on

I said to my one somewhat

disheveléd soul, stand up, we’ve got

to get going

“In the South, Dollar Trees are spreading like Kudzu” says the man

on the radio

how everything grows

so hard here  “Arkansas”

hail, heat, lightning, summer, & you,     

starlink satellites alight over

the small hot lake

mistook for migrating geese

mis-take— or is it some new form

come up upon us, exit

at the milky way, flock of all

data-flock, haul the small

boat in after—

pollen’s-wish ; yellow spider         “validity of malthusiansim; abstract” 

pleurotus spp. on the morning-wood     white bloom             moss in the matrix

heat haze of the new dominion     & the word for it was

II

lemonade of the sun pitched up,

lemons grown in the lemon-orchards

of earth, drip, biome, shade-tree

& cutgrass, be with me still,

be still with me, in shade & shadow

the location of pain is in the sky

blue blow up pool on the mown lawn    

blue blown up to becoming

blue blown gasket in the morning

in the groaning heart

of my heart, clear

as the blowing wind

I will go

drive

north in the wind

& pollen to the

useless golden

prairie,

alone

lead me

half string half answer

a calf in a green field, lowly

III

Apollo 1-17; golden

curls, mercy, shepherd, young

god of archery, lyre, sing for her, arched

spine & shined hull, centrifugal

force, go down lower, the deep

well, leap, sorrow unbloooms you, combs us,

spreads us flat, rolls us out, that we become

men, speak, men with your bodies of grief, I cut

a green sheaf from the world, toss up a small

beam of light, suspend, void, all you

have ever known, my son, my sun, dust

in the beam of light,

stand, still, hold

memory that battered

hail damaged vine

in the scattered diagonals

of my heart, left

at the stop sign,

horizontal to me

the day like an egg

the day like a green-gold

beetle the day climbing up

some rusted & cresting

cacophony the day

cracking open the lizard’s

diacritic eyes the blue

skink lizard’s tail, flies

at the windows

in the morning

flies at the window panes

lazy & sweet— is this my soul?

hazy with the absence of desire

hovering in air

morning’s lung

might curse me yet

become, becoming

a still thing, alight, yellow-

crowned night heron where the white

comes in, a green stream conjoins

the redclay-muddied river, turbulent

flow-eddies where our heart was perched

on a limb there, as I am

broken open, flowing out, doing

my chores, as the heron

is doing his chores, may the gods of chores

greet us & bless both

the simple & the complex

phenomena

of our days

IIII

the spirochete, the spider’s limb,

the violin, all attempted objects

made by man, man’s hands,

the mind obliterates the sound, I am in

some canned accouterment, the world

that we have made of this

tin of fish, who once flashed

in a net of fish, somewhere

fleshed & tick-bit out of

some first un-garden, the ur-cities of the future, I am

become a being of the grid, haphazard,

sporulating outward, ark-ship

of whatever generations

of bacteria that live, & die, & live

again in my eyelashes, skin

duodenum, gums, toenails,

fingernails, nostrils, etc.—

you are a palace to all

that you may meet, says Tennyson,

or something like it.  my inevitable

panspermia, new granite counter, room of right

angles, fruit flies blooming everywhere,

I am a god to everything I touch.

I bring more than myself with me.

.

each yolk rhymes with day,

the void takes up its tinny tune;

a music in whatever human

instrument’s available at that time,

or place, the Bluetooth speaker bleats,

hungry for its outlet 

O,

my child

IIIII

ashes in a mason jar

if this is my orchard

.

between “rock” & “man”

a chasm stands; transistors &

Delilah, this highway &

the world

IIIIII

Apollo; god of feet, & feathers; tires,

god of wings, & that limp christ-

deity, cannibalism’s scrawny god, shredded

abs, gentle hip divot, draws the

eyes down, that feminine form,

& poised, from that high

spot there, makes a proclamation

against the reciprocal singing.  let me sing

it just for you, they say he said.  test

the limits of us, science;

implant electrodes of new

becoming, alleviate

the general pain, <gestures

around > we have made you

in our image, dreams pulled from the womb

of sleep’s shared dreamtime

into waking as a thread of bright

cotton from a spindle in a myth, we pulled

this all from myth, we dream

of selfhood, diodes, signs & cosigns, tablets,

bylaws, we dream of oceans, frogs, cobalt mines,

we dream of marketplaces, cities, mothers, we dream

of factory made diadems arranged in order of

size & shape & color, icon of a sign & symbol of,

we are caught in grid-lines, we dream they point us to some earthly

heaven, Q-code, Walmart, sparrows in the food court,

rows of soybeans in the hot pink sun, America’s

ethanol’s shimmering arteries drawn

right up out of the earth, the shipping lanes of

our deep ploughed seas, lawn & house & mailbox &

biodome, a dwelling place, a bounty for everyone, a bounty

on our hearts, my kingdom for a redbull, 7-11,

burger-king, popeyes chicken

sandwich, frozen fish fillets from

that first ocean, frozen berries

in the aisles of paradise, is this a dream,

have you changed into

a new thing, my sweet cow-

daughter, Io, god

of familial hymns

I will always recognize you,

chewing your cud in this our

newest pasture,

come home.

.

Lo, and be hold

it is midnight

in Arkansas

a white cow stands

lowing in the dark field

I cannot go to her

IIIIIII

unbecome the orchard, grief

make us a shape of things, pear tree,

football, stadium, kitchen, radio

a belonging built into the network,

river-bank, pantheon, dream-

song, milky-way, socket & weld-seam that

holds us & carries us, onward, my giant pink

pit-bull of my heart’s giant

head on my lap snoring, time’s

a-wasting, the world’s not

going to perceive itself now

is it?  or is it?  well,

at least we are so

gung-ho

in our

belonging.

I will invent

7 more deities

by morning.

IIIIIIII

welcome to Harps’

Holy Mountain, hometown

fresh fried chicken the blown

fuse of my mind

O it’s circling

circling

coming in

to land

one dove

set loose

bring me back a olive branch

a piece of trash

a plastic bag ragged &

ripped by the wind

we have founded

civilization here

my small city stretches out

before time itself

birth and grief are a series of

concentric contractions

they built the highway system

IIIIIIIII

they have trained neurons to play Pong

they are 3-D printing horses

the hooved ungulates of the universe

give birth in the circuits

asters & blue chicory blink into & out of existence

rows & rows of corn stretch out before us, green & gold

green & gold, green & gold           the eye the first prism

space the first grid

I am trapped in time & space, these

factual geometricks   distance, place

amount of durational time “it takes”

I am a whole horizon away, the setting sun,

the spiral arm, the galaxy, the distant ache,

the rolling hills, the wine dark lake,

the fish that slap the surface

of the reflection of the reflection

of the sky come back to me

.

as if we could breech the seam that separates

this world from itself        as if we could

as if we could

my kingdom for the world

IIIIIIIIII

it has only been one whole lifetime, to me

from “the in between; winter”

“spontaneous generation”

I

there is forgetting halfway back to laughter; there is a gown

around all things         spam folder: archiv                paradise               dream

where is the awe               the augur there    the bore bore

boredom down, wore

out the sunless thing                       : it hatched, you need

a throat to sing (the primate-

ologists say)                      to speak, speak to me   

(go down) say it again then (lower)

                             there is something else

                                                                        leftover; for all the rest—

put it in the microwave, 2 minutes                             is or is not [a potato]

seed-capital; invest                         the self a hem to many

too many; to pollinate      [wasp of order, or a] brain;         she said forget,

I keep forgetting

a youtube search history will trace a life for you      :     its source &

its meandering: “stop stretching your piriformis, do this instead!”

“how to replace wiring harness on a 2000-2006 Chevy or GMC”

“top ten foods for a healthy brain” “what is death to a microbe?” 

“how to power a lightbulb using only a lemon”

“THIS weather pattern will be CRAZY”

get gods name out of your mouth

                             just put it in water for a while,

 it’ll sprout some tendrils you can plant out

come spring

come, spring, caught

our eyes                                                          leverage the beam

bright mode’s first hummingbird                 against the net, work

against the surge; break                                small fishes

                                           filaments in                       resistance of       

                                           break me open again then            plant

                                           me out                              come spring

                                           rock of my rock 

                                                          or is it the forgetting

cauterize

this sort-of ship-

wrecked planet,

mine.

it is easy enough to write “bamboozled sun,”

“prime number,” “ribosome” where is the hard interface, what

is the average size of the universe, name of an unnameable thing?

cortisol in E-minor

Great Blue Herring

pull self to goat-herd, Cody

please be reasonable

what is less than a sparrow, philosophically— speaking—

                             I sleep with my leg

                             half under half out of

                             the void

the lengths we go;  are actual distances—

less than a sparrow, though; though…

for whom the whole

sky is highway home

the petulant child

                             is crying again

for my flank: 35lb silicon-coated pure metal dumb

bell mined from the molten planets core or leaked out

its virile veins; O range of motion    O  mountain range                      

each muscle the cordage knot of god-cock-crowing-dawn

you stole from earth                        build-a-body

build your own

what is or isn’t mine

wrested of being, not wrought

clawed out of                    you, worm, now

walk

it’s good to eat an onion in the morning

it’s good to cut it crosswise and see the green tip, the white flame

its good to be a human being released from suffering

              in the morning, cut the white flame out

II

what do you know about the green becoming portal : eyeless lid-sky of seam or hem beam [me] up, pink cluster ; terraform’d ablution ;

 pray the cataclysm open , pry catechism about

                             then spill it [all

                                           over the ]    floor and

worldbreast     periwinkle or leech ; open up, lichen, in the deep

brooding

I Said

              ] most small

              falcons ; screech               on high, nest

              all tangle— yes

or fallen, fell through, formal logic of enclosing space’s broke open Hallelujah

                            or gift might one scratch [there]   

perimeter allegory        foveal curve

          design flaw in earliest crocus

              design flaw in December frogs      belt it out buddy

              croak your heartfelt croaks

amorous and long

                             there is no sweeter song  : the freeze

                                                          will come tomorrow

                                                          miles to go before the spring

inverse-sky-pond-portal’s mud-dominion; willow & new small hawk overhead goes skreeeeee & beat beat beat glide beat beat beat glide, I see you there: beak of worldhood;

the persimmon seeds said snow 

the spoon says snow

the plow, permission      

the permission that divides the sky

that shovels it up               for us

the eyes said double-up & open; mirror world, bilateral symmetry

fearful, bright— go on & step out into it    I dare you gently

I dare you wholly             cut the onion cross-wise  

in the morning                  the song comes up & step out into it