I Search For A New Way To Pray

I search for a new way to pray     I search for a new way to pray / I search for a new way to write     Evening if my writing fails to cohere I still search NEW     new NAME her NAME / Taryn Tetragrammaton out a new grammar and another grammar: her grammar     I search for a new way to pray / I search for a new way to write     Write what: write prayer   new prayer: her prayer

I search for a new way to pray     I search for a new way to write     I write new prayer: her prayer     Her prayer impossible (You spend your whole life inviting calling promising   hoping sighing dreaming   convoking invoking provoking   constituting engendering producing   naming assigning demanding   prescribing commanding sacrificing

More impossibility     More impossibility my impossible leap to faith, the enfleshed faith and embedded faith     Embedded bedroom bridal chamber     Embedded bedroom chaos emeralds / the Drawfee Sonic butthole Saga secluded in bridal chamber hyperbaric bitter fossils     Sensory deprivation tank altered states / agoraphobic nosebleed altered states of america

I have been thinking about praying some form of the psalms again, I say to Asia.  Currently I do not pray at all except the act of writing.  I don’t pray either, says Asia.  Better to pray with your whole life than in solitude.  Very true.  Although I think there are some benefits to a mental solitude of prayer, but if you have to pick one or another, pick living life as prayer.  Pick writing as prayer, art as prayer, creating as prayer, mothering as prayer, nursing as prayer.  That's what mystical prayer is about anyway.  The Christian monks taught this.  But I think a liturgical aspect might hep with structuring my mental illness.  Even if I just write and expand on the psalms or the roman Catholic Mass or something..  A prophet’s work is never done, I say.

I search for a new way to pray     I search for a new way to write     I search for a new way to improvise

Alchemy architects hollow avian bones and her flight contradicts faith     He flight fire flows faith foam finnegans wake     I wake awake faith faith fidget fires her fractals     Her fractals fly chaos cabinet curiosities collapsed faith and contradicted faith     Faith collapses everything that rises converges     faith collapses coalesce sometimes selling out is waking up     I wake awake faith what happens on the road always comes home     What happens on the road always comes home / come on up to the house


Train songs and train psalms


Hey hey I will remember you   Hey hey I don’t know what to do   My baby leaving on the 2:19

Will I see you tonight on a downtown train   Every night it’s just the same   You leave me lonely now

Now I’m so sorry for what I’ve done and I’m out here on my own   It was a train that took me away from here but a train can’t bring me home

Down there by the train   Down there where the train goes slow


Train songs and train psalms
Train there is balm in gilead and train palm tree garden
Train tender Taryn tents psalms / garden blossoms

Alchemy starchitects strange mirrored cures and melting libraries, and I drink the library     I drink the library contradictions collapse stretch arm strong corn syrup subsidies cycle stock market crashes and burning celluloid     Burning woodshed aluminum siding the side of Adam the side wound of Jesus Christ

I drink library leaves of grass house of leaves / a little levitation     A little leviathan action painting and all-over painting / black black pigments     Charcoal chamber pots charcoal bridal chamber (you are excrement: you can transform yourself into gold)

Alchemical towers toy Taryn Trickster and Taryn Heterotopia     Towers alchemy alcheringa, my brain tricked and tickled deep desert dreaming     Towers Taryn alchemy alcheringa and I dream the bells backward, shrieking come and see the blood on the streets

Christina chemistry continually rewrites and reorchestrates sequenzas secret chemins / sidewinder alpine alchemy     Matterhorn slow sludge alchemy animates tubular steel and I steal steel stretched serpents

The persona of a ski-row boho / hobo   a young man out of place and time as an ongoing experiment of performance art

I approach her harmony     I approach her harmony experiment experience ekstasis     I approach her harmony the marriage of heaven and hell well water waitresses

Heavy harmony hardbop     Heavy harmony hale-bopp hardbop hells     I worship hells hardbop gospels heretic gospels holy diver you've been down too long in the midnight sea     I approach her harmony heavy meal metallic chema and chemes charis charis / deliriant bridal chambers     I approach her deliriant bridal chamber and I cut chamber halves hot-caterpillar sections     Sections arcade projects play grass fast first     Glass fast first fire fringe physics     I inhale deliriants injured gasoline and my internals fold fire     I hold internal infernal hell helios large lungs and large hadron collidor

I pray a particular kind of particle physics and plasmid plasma prayer

Psalms palm tree garden plasma and psalms high-particle physics prayers

Anticholinergic Adonai increases my cholesterol – the bad kind, not the good kind

Anticholinergic Adonai appears in hallucination as a giant asshole     A giant asshole the size of Burg Khalifa and it spews shit everywhere like Godzilla Atomic Breath     CG Jung had a similar vision – in Alan Moore’s notes to From Hell, he states CG Jung had a scatological vision, perhaps a prediction of the coming world war

Scripture crystallizes incessantly flowing time and sets forth the electromagnetic word as a perpetual present

Perpetual present prays     Perpetual present prays pulled the very pulse of the machine     Machine elves desiring-machine prayer orgasms and orgasms pulses bipolar cycles the very pulse of the machine and the very play of the machine     She takes the schizophrenics out for a ride in a van and rowboat, and on a picnic in the midst of nature, an infernal machine assembled

An infernal machine   An inferno machine   An internal machine my organ grinder internal organs participating in the incarnation

My writing contra-Schoenberg, inevitably – and contra-Boulez too (Contra – the canonical gospels and even contra-Nag Hammadi too)

Texts play texts towers tabernacle into tabernacles / mirror hallway courtyards    I stop worrying for a moment if the texts cohere into semantic sense, but rater I bask in the joyful collision of texts / the joy of the blood of the stars

At some point everything emptied

At some point, this point in star pigment points emptiness / her kenosis: Krystal Kenosis     Her Kenosis: Krystal Kenosis Khora

Point reaches reach the zero beyond the zero all stripped down (Well the time will come when the wind will shout all stripped down all stripped down   And all the sinners know what I’m talking about   All stripped down all stripped down

Point peaks zero     Point peaks prayer zero a zone of pornographies and my pornographies all strip down god naked (When all the creatures of the world lien up at the gate all stripped down all stripped down   And you better be on time and not be late   All stripped down all stripped down)

I strip the stretch of tinfoil rain    I strip stretch nails and tacks tinfoil shaker rain     Rain rushes oil tinfoil highways / highway to hell and hellhounds of my trail    I strip she sensuous her solar anus and she empties the philosopher’s stone into earth as two rotation two sexual movement two locomotive wheels and pistons    Earth turns all stripped down down the earth died screaming

Strip spinal cord strip skeleton star and select samples / surplus holy spirit and earth excess     Strip spinal cord strip skeleton transformer scratches / the sample’s the flesh and the beat’s the skeleton

I strip stars all stripped down my descent into desert desert Christian monasteries and merkabah visions

All stripped down a warm blonde with cold death on her mind YOU’LL GET YOURS     All stripped down she waters a man just like her sister had – so she took him LIKE WILD     All stripped down a confidential report on woman who, in another age, would have been burned at the stake as witches WOMAN OF EVIL

Ping pong pulp pornographies

Ping pong pulp pornography Atari’s PONG play impossibilities     Impossible flesh sarx holy spirit speak and spell gematria     Gods gematria gushes blood garden     Gods gematria chew cuts torture garden / decadent desert


Conversations With Asia Rain 05/02/2020 6:20 AM

I will sometimes even dive into hobbies that are just hobbies of people I care about just because I feel like I can understand them a little better if I know why they are attracted to it, says Asia.  I try not to take on new hobbies but usually fail, she says.


DADA as nonsense vocables and DADA as hobby horse     Hobby horse hobble skirt helldrops     I slide a paper knife at random into a dictionary and its diction sprouts horse wings pegasus at the bellagio

Inscribed horse horror intaglio prints     Inscribed hobby horse impressionism and post-impressionism / PIGMENT POINTS PURE BLACK     Blue black witch’s utter churning M.C. Escher stairways     M.C. Escher stairwell water living plant colors flying buttresses

At some point, everything empties and emptiness is form and form is emptiness

Cross empties Christ Christs eloi eloi lema sabacthani     The Cross and Centerfold corpus crossroads tropic of capricorn and tropic of cancer / Zodiac as ZERO     The cross self-crucifies cross folded into cross the net neti neti corpus hypercubus     The shepherd strikes the sheep scatter John Coltrane Live In Seattle

Cross crustacean eustachian tubes     Tubes surf towers desert detournement     Corpus crucis cancer cuts canvas conic sections     Corpus crucis capricorn cuts canvas paraboloids and hyperboloids     Paraboloids pray punctured pigment DADA BLACK     Hyperboloids hatch helmets, pockets, and pucks of hell     DADA BLACK extra string theory dimensions

Stations of the cross creep meat moss carbon black carboniferous forests     Stations of the cross clutch pornographies play disintegration / cross concocts cocks Krystal Kenosis

You have spent your whole life inviting calling promising   hoping sighing dreaming   convoking invoking provoking   constituting engendering producing   naming assigning demanding   prescribing commanding sacrificing

I search for a new way to pray     I search for a new way to write     I search for searching, the word world word turning and turning in a widening gyre

Glass Ash Human Body

Large vitrine glass vision gods / thirteen ghosts     Large glass hell houses     Hell horses hundred hooves half bodies and horse gallops gods hell smoked photographs     I fold the photograph in a cylinder / ash sophia     Fireplace ash cemetery shekinah     Shekinah cremates my body and refashions the ash into horse figurines     Horse hospital arrest     I press my body against her glass / I press her body against my glass     The animal skeleton in the glass stares from my face

Rhythms shift rhythm shifts     Rhythm shift rhythm shifts surprise sunrise expansion of rhythm

Rhythm shift rhythm shifts uninterrupted then interrupted engines     Engine engulfs rhythm runner fire and my body covers room wallpaper     Wallpaper wheels pulse     Wallpaper wheels pulse heartbeat propellant / propane water tower panic     Rhythm sprawl spontaneous spoons and spoons transform there is no spoon     Spoon transform spork sprawl individual knives / knife gnosis     Knife knot gnosis disappearing ink then annihilating ink (my bod vanishes behind glass then between smashed glass)

Smashed glass smashing pumpkins

Smashed glass smashing pumpkins swing swains several shepherds

smashed glass light bulb Hindenburg hurries hydrogen     Her hydrogen hides me in invisible flame     Invisible fire artificial flavors / flash card crossroads bondage     Stations of the cross cold case acetylene caskets

I gradually disappear into the walls     I gradually disappear into the wall wheels     I gradually disappear waters walls waters, and wheels float the waters / lake lights loch ness

I gradually disappear into the walls, the torn wallpaper, the open fireplace, other interior interiorly other

(I always-already disappear desert twin deserts     desert then deserts transformations)

Krystal katzenjammer caverns

Krystal katzenjammer caverns khora / krystalline formations figure lattices     Krystalline fountain and ferrous formations fuel weird magnetism / malek malchut moloch

She wears a wrinkled dress – or perhaps it’s a silk robe – and meets my gaze     She wears a wrinkled dress slipped into a silk rose – bag of mystical roses – and she gazes the god body in me

(Last night I dreamed that I was dreaming of you and from a window across the law I watch you undress…)

She wears wheel water and water wheel rhythm     she wears water wraiths and she swims my wreckage spirit wrench seances / wrought iron hoaxes     Wrought iron horses door hinge bodies     Door hinge desert / joshua trees     Intertextual joshua trees intersex intersect insects and icicles     She weaves ice wheel disappearer     She weaves invisible ice impossible island momentum / Phoebe Bridger’s motion sickness

She wears desert dresses desert     She wears desert undressed desert     Detuned desert and denuded desert dozen dandelions (I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests   I’ve been out in the front of a dozen dead oceans) (dozen dead disintegration half dome / tyger tyger burning bright) (Distracted by distant detours, I write the Book into the Desert itself) (The Book   The Photograph   The Desert)


Conversations With Asia rain 05/01/2020 5:52 AM

I would like to get a book on Robert Mapplethorpe especially his homoerotic works, I say.  I have a strange relationship with the male body.  I’m embarrassed by it.  I would like to be more comfortable with it.  Art is a good way to do that, says Asia.  I think of this piece by the Guerrilla Girls, I say (Do women have to be naked to get into the Met Museum?  Less than 5% of the artists in the Modern Art section are women, but 85% of the nudes are female   Guerrilla Girls).  Claws out, says Asia.  Yep, I say.  I’m definitely guilty of it.  When I write Taryn in my book it is often in a pornographic way – with her approval, but nevertheless.  I often think how I write women.  I have to write women with the knowledge I’m a cis-man writing women, I say.


Not knowledge, but awareness     Not knowledge but recognitions (New name   ocean name   gnostic name) (Light spills through her large window)

Her body chain smokes my body blood and black lace     Her body incinerates my body ubik black paintings black bart

Her body homoerotic heresies chain smoke and my body longer lines and longer rhythms retrograde     Hauntological Christianities curb curve chrysalis, always absent

My body does not balance but breaks bit tooth balance wheel / not waving but drowning     My body non-balance blinks light blade cannibals and her body eats my body book blob blood bitters stations of the cross

My body bark bites rhizome     My body bark bridges black blood to breaking storms / handaxe oxen ocean basin     My body bark black widow beaches and my ancients ash seeps the beach blacker desert     Bronze smeared brain     Brain greased brass     Brain brighter metals

I miss the whole body of the sound: I get the inside of it but not the outside of it as well

My body sounds whole somewhat suspect     My body sounds heresy whole what her work: this what transforms     This what woman transforms sound whole inside-outside no changes but interchange     Changes stations of the cross     Changes california cress     Changes california but clover     Changes california box elder     Change’s california condor and where many condors gather dead body gods / palm tree garden fires     Palm Tree Garden cherub fires fires flutter go famine     Fires flutter god famine fanfares / starscream

Yardbird Graveyard Devils

Aporia approximates aporia, absolute Yahweh and absolute Yahweh alone ink isolated eroded isomers and aporia polymerizes gods goons gambits     An apparent aporia approximates actual aporia and she pickpockets gods goons goblins (an example of alkene polymerization, in which each sytrene monomer’s double bond reforms as a single bond plus a bond to another styrene monomer / I sidechain multiple gods into endless gods, human growth hormone concentrated in mirrors facing mirrors)     Aporia operas appomattox Substance D and my hemispheres split spineward Christ in courtyard yardbird I carry miniature scores of The Rite of Spring and The Firebird in my Mortal Kombat pit pockets     My pit pockets Ornette Coleman’s Prime Time and harmolodics hiss hangtime body horror     Harmolodics hiss body horror hip-hop and hip-hop studio arcade apocalypse     Aporia flyfishes apocalypse and apocalypse anglerfishes aporia again acid-almonds amygdala acid

We were practicing the altissimo notes in Ted Nash’s book – Studies in High Harmonics, 1946 – and a Sigurd Raschèr book – probably the overtone book Top Tones For The Saxophone, 1941     Altissimo advances owl screech aporia and sometimes I wear the human scream     I wear the human scream scream queen slasher saw into soft flesh, a magician’s box trick except it cannot reverse but omelets bright orange entropy     I do not abandon altissimo but I exploit its aporia and human uncanny     Altissimo as allen wrench writes exploitation films and I too explore the niche and lurid     I too explore orange juice pulp and dime novel continental philosophy (the unholy combination of H.P. Lovecraft and Immanuel Kant, and Yahweh always-already masquerades in cosmic horror / demiurge impossible god blobs rolling like tumbleweed in the universal desert)

Altissimo pitchshifts up Alvin and the Chipmunks     Altissimo pitchforks flesh escapades gore parades and I exploit female bodies Christina Taryn (Russ Meyer’s VIXEN is a smash hit!  A fun drama about a swinging lady!)

I study high harmonics mass hysteria     I study high harmonics horror hemorrhage and my tenor saxophone sloughs serosanguineous tissue     My tenor saxophone epistles colloidal silver bullets effective against werewolves

I study high harmonics horror films Bernard Herrman’s score to Psycho (the strings play con sordini for all the music other than the shower scene, creating a darker and more intense effect)     I play harp harmonics and pinch harmonics eases electric and I paint horror party sound / scream queen queen mab Christina     Only with violins in a screeching, stabbing sound-motion of extraordinary viciousness and my vision volleys vicious venom Yahweh and Yahweh speeds through bebop lines but he’s still not as virtuosic as Yardbird’s     My vitriolic vision ransacks Christina monasteries as an old horse viking berserker (the old norse form of the word berserk, likely meaning bear-shirt, “someone who wears a coat made out of bear’s skin… Thirteenth century historian Snorri Sturluson interpreted the meaning as “bare-shirt”, that the warriors wear into battle without armor, but that view has largely been abandoned…)

I study high harmonics hellhound on my trail and my flesh conforms to the cave bears     Benjamin bare bear anchors armorless aporia and I got to keep moving blues falling down like hail     Benjamin bare bear babels top tones for the saxophone and I attempt to aggregate altissimo appoggiaturas or altissimo arpeggios, difference melodic approaches perhaps like string section aphorisms (I don’t think I can write the way I really want to, I say.  You’ll figure it out, says Asia.  I’m afraid of failing.  That just means you are trying and learning.  I want to give up – I think I’m just sad I’m going in a direction opposite of what you like.  Ben, you aren’t.  You haven’t read the new stuff yet.  You said it yourself: “I feel like the truer I am being, the more you’re understanding it, which is really good.”  So just be true.  I’m afraid but I’m not sure what I’m afraid of.  I feel attached to a hundred horses and they’re pulling me in all different directions and I want to write them all.  All the horses.  But I’m afraid if I write all the horses, it will be nonsense to you.  You will figure it out, says Asia.  What if I have a new idea every sentence and it’s all dust grains that form the universe.  A new line break every sentence.  Aphorisms seemingly disconnected by play in the contradiction.  There can still be a common thread, and if it’s terrible, so what? says Asia.  Write something else.  You will get where you need to be, but only if you keep moving, says Asia)

I got to keep moving blues falling down like hail     And the days keep worrying me there’s a hellhound on my trail

I meditate on the crossroads legend and its different accounts and versions

According to legend, as a young man living on a plantation in rural Mississippi, Robert Johnson had a tremendous desire to become a great blues musician…     One of the legends often told says that Johnson took his guitar to a crossroad near Dockery Plantation at midnight and a large black man (the devil) met him there and he took the guitar and tuned it…     The devil played a few songs and then returned the guitar to Johnson, giving him mastery of the instrument

I went to the crossroads, fall down on my knees, asked Yahweh above, have mercy now, save poor ben if you please

I meet Christ at the crossroads and she appears to me as a black woman     She appears to me as a black hole black woman, and I recognize her as the cloud that covered Moses on Mount Sinai

Mount Horeb transforms into crossroads and I walk the Work Woman, and Yahweh possesses moer black and more dark than any devil

Don’t you know there ain’t no devil, just God when he’s drunk, Tom Waits sings on Heartattack and Vine

The line was just… I was sitting on the toilet, and there was this spider web in the corner, and I lit a match and a cigarette, and I held the match up to the spider and the spider started crawling up the web.  So I got the match closer.  I opened up a cat of beer, drank the beer, tried to decide whether I should burn the spider off this web or let him go on this way… I figured there must be somebody like that up there: has a couple of cocktails every now and then and there’s trouble on Times Square, says Tom Waits in a circa 1981 interview

Don’t you know there ain’t no devil, there’s just God when he’s drunk

And again the anger of Yahweh was kindled against Israel, and He moved David against them, saying go number Israel and Judah (2 Samuel 24:1)

And Satan stood up against Israel, and moved David to number Israel (1 Chronicles 21:1)

I know God personally, and he’s an asshole, I tell Asia.  You’re not required to love God or any gods… 

I love Yahweh – I truly love Yahweh, and Yahweh often appears to me as the Accuser or as different demons     Nathan of Gaza, the great heretic prophet of Sabbatai Sevi, theorized the forces of destruction and the kelipot take root within certain lights of Ein Sof itself, and through the cosmic drama of creation / contraction results in a great abyss in which demonic forces and Samael resides, Yahweh's serpents dwelling in the hole of the great abyss…

Dark discovers dark, dominant sevenths cycling rhythm changes the corded chorded colloidal desert     Dark discovers dark Yahweh and I know Yahweh from my youth up, umber underneath monstrous moonshine abyss     Yahweh appears abyssal, abyssus altissimo aporia, and when I read Studies In High Harmonics or Top Tones for Saxophone, dark Yahweh bedevils the desert black paintings     black pigment Christ cooked charcoal     I pick up the charcoal and I work the name Yahweh and I transliterate it into musical instruments     I pick up molded bone ash from bonefire and I mark the walls black woman crossroads rabbit roads remix and I copy animal paintings, icons from the Cambrian Explosion

Dark daughters dark Yahweh disaster and I increase-decrease different dominant sevenths Coltrane changes / I channel crossroads Coltrane changes

In another version, Robert Johnson meets the devil not a crossroads but a graveyard (get a silk bag from the graveyard duck to live longer)     This resembles the story told to Steve LaVere that Ike Zimmerman at Hazlehurst, Mississippi learned to play guitar at midnight sitting on a tombstone, and Zimmerman influenced the playing of a young Robert Johnson

Graveyard gods ghostwrite my gallstone prophecy and I prophesy impulse play graveyard genealogies     gods gaslight in graveyard (the plural of graveyards hasty heterotopias / grizzly bear heteroglossia)

Graveyard     a burial ground; a cemetery     a place where worn-out or obsolete objects keep crypt     a yard for gravel; an enclosure for the interment of the dead; a cemetery     a tract of land in which te dead buried bodies blades     a final storage place for collections of things no longer useful or usable     a tract of land used for burials

Graveyard georgette blouse gods     Graveyard georgette blouse blonde gods melodic fragments from Yahweh yardbird solos

Graveyard gymnastics gamma garibaldi and open waters wedge black women orange damsel fish, and I grapple with her guesswork (Biblical text on a synagogue in Holesov, Czech Republic: HaShem kills and makes alive; He brings down to sheol and raises up… 1 Samuel 2:6)

Graveyard tune-up topsy-turvy cronenberg body horror for top tones for tenor saxophone, and my altissimo tickles Ark of the Covenant     My altissimo tickles sickles ark of the covenant and ark cuts woman and children canaanite genocides then transposed onto the tribe of benjamin (Bears then appear as Asia, inspiration as misreading)

Grotesque gorillas as graveyard gentleman     Grotesque gorillas as graveyard glacial gentleman, King Kong Donkey Kong krystal cocaine

I generate graveyard geographies and I goldsmith gods     guitarfish gods and greaseball devils

Recent research by blues scholar Bruce Conforth, in Living Blues magazine, makes the story clearer…     Johnson and Ike Zimmerman did practice in a graveyard at night, because the graveyards sounded quiet, no one disturbing them…     Zimmerman was not from Hazlehurst but nearby Beauregard, and he did not practice in one graveyard, but several in the area

Difference sources and sorceries

I write several graveyards     I write several graveyards and general gardens (grave with a cross with nails in Errol, Greece)

I write several graveyards a grave cut into my chalice chasuble robotic servos and prosthetics and I have arsenal visions of my grave as machine, my bear body and bare body buried alive (excavations vary from a shallow scraping to removal of topsoil to a depth of six feet or more where a vault or burial chamber cambra constructed) (I suddenly realize the unity between the Bridal Chamber and the Burial Chamber     I suddenly realize the radical rhizome inside-outside the Bridal Chamber and the Burial Chamber)

I write raw ribbons several graveyards and Yahweh Yardbird bends flatted fifths bebop and I realized by using the high notes of the chords as a melodic line, and by the right harmonic progression, I could play what I heard inside me that’s when I was born     I write twelve-tone rows into tectonics ridges rammed into several graveyards and Yahweh Yardbird blasts bright alto altissimo and I found that by using the higher intervals of a chord as a melody line and backing them with appropriately related changes I could play the thing I’d been hearing I came alive

Altissimo alive altered chords – no, altissimo altered chords alive and altered beast makes a cameo appearance (the player character chosen by Zeus to rescue his daughter Athena from the demonic ruler of the underworld, Neff / underworld haters graveyards)     Underworld waters graveyards and I transform into a bear or golden wolf

Altissimo attacks!

Altissimo attacks abscesses buboes boils blisters!

Altissimo attacks arteriosclerosis serious as a heart attack!

Altissimo attacks Angela is having a party, Jason and Freddy are too scared to come… but you’ll have a hell of a time!  NIGHT OF THE DEMONS

Aporia arrests paraconsistent paralysis and I play puncture picture punctum     Paralysis arrests rough rupture and rough rapture rhizomic ravages     Paralysis rupture rhizomic ravages     Paralysis arrests…     I lose the rhizome rushes over me

I listen to Higgs Bison Blues by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and it details an encounter of Robert Johnson and the devil at the crossroads:

Black road long and I drove and drove
And came upon a cross road
The night was hot and black
I see Robert Johnson with a 10-dollar guitar
Strapped to his back looking for a tomb
Here comes Lucifer with his canon law
And a hundred black babies running from his genocidal jaw
He got that real killer groove
Robert Johnson and the devil, man
Don't know who is going to rip off who

I always thought the lyric was: strapped to his back looking for a tune

Tune and Tomb double-tongue and triple-tongue tenor saxophone and I attempt Charles Gayle altissimo     Tune and Tomb trumpet supertonic dominant tonic but then the terrain becomes thunder texture and taryn texture train station (I hear my train a comin’ hear my train a comin’

Tune and tom steam ship talisman     Tune and tomb steam ship talisman aporia apotropaic magic     My isolated eye inches toward Yahweh's evil eye a tailwhip insect or apocalypse scorpions     Insects tune to their instruments to rock tombs, including Christ’s tomb women stole his body     Tune and tomb come like a thief in the night and women roll away the rock by talisman insects and steal the body of Jesus

I roll away the rock when the rock is called up yonder

I roll away the rock when the saints go marching in

I like black and black is the color of my true love’s hair     I like black and the american black bear mauls Yahweh youths because us sensitive prophets parade as assholes, a direct mediator and medium for Yahweh     I mime Yahweh with my body     My prophecy doubles as performance and Asshole Benjamin through a glass darkly dedekinds Asshole Yahweh

I like black, black road long, and I revisit black crossroads and night crossroads, a black chrysalid become graveyard courtyard tomb (Most modern graves in the United States descend only four feet deep, the casket placed into a concrete box to prevent a sinkhole, and to ensure a strong grave that can be driven over, and not float in instance of floods)

I like black because in my dreaming, Yahweh yapps beast black and night gnosis / apophatic aporia apophatic altissimo

I return to a robust rhythm but I want to make rhythm rhizomatic     I rely on written rhythm, rhythm underground and rhythm apocalypse shamanic, and rhythm demands something rhizomic, rivers rabbit Akira Kurosawa’s Ran rivers

The only thing he had to learn was the harmonies and the chords, because he had the rhythm…     I do not have the rhythm yet – I search for the rhythm although I do not know the rhythm but when I find it, I will feel it

John Coltrane said:  I’m not sure what I’m looking for except that’ll be something that hasn't been played before…  I don’t know what it is…  I know I’ll have that feeling when I get it…

I return to some resemblance of rhythm, but rhythm resides revenant, mast cell ghosts empty chambers monastery and I miss the monastery but it mutates matterhorn mullets and hair metal power ballads