ㅁ The rain came in gusts, gales, attacking trees. They bent, weary and wary but strong. The atmosphere was like mad birds. It drew secret glyphs of air. Unreadable... we wept. Without remedy. Disconsolate. We lay down. On moss. Still.
– a nonnet.
Category: Nonnet
Caveat: Poem #2571 “Fish worship”
ㅁ fish create obsessions and burning needs among visitors to this remote island in southeastern Alaska and it's all people talk about when socializing around the town
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2570 “To get where you’re going”
ㅁ A nonnet starts from some position and unfolds itself with slow steps - a teleological, but not quite knowable - journey down a path to simple ends, with only lonely words.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2565 “Routines of interaction”
ㅁ Arthur has trouble asking for help. Instead, he positions himself nearby, and cusses loudly. If I ask him not to, he'll apologize, but then forget. This routine is what works.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2561 “Recollection of a visit to my mother’s house”
ㅁ I remembered that long drive I made, ... think it was in two-thousand three. It just popped into my mind. From Sydney up to Cairns, I drove through the night, ate Hungry Jacks, passed motels: long roads... drove.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2560 “The onset of some kind of dementia”
ㅁ Brain: broken. Procedures fail to proceed. Steps can't be taken. Narratives get flattened. Short-term memory wobbles, events get misplaced, set aside, What's left is an eternal present.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2559 “Strange trip”
ㅁ Stuck on a starship bound for Seoul, I realized I was in a dream; the ship was crowded with fools, with holds full of cargo; a woman asked me, could I give her some money? I said no.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2542 “Descent”
ㅁ The long day dissolved gradually, melting itself into drizzle: just very low clouds, really, grasping at the damp earth. The trees were patient. The slugs came out. Birds still sang. The stones slept.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2535 “A muddle”
ㅁ dreamed my brain was broken from overuse tried using pillows and some stacks of old books held my head a certain way to replicate the same function but alas everything was vague
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2534 “The big city, population 4”
ㅁ Since the fire in 19, we've been here without any neighbors: just birds. Now people inhabited the next lot to the east. They talk and do things, make lots of noise; suddenly: city life.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2528 “Arboriculture”
ㅁ Some trees suddenly give up and die. The saplings put out lots of leaves, all yearning and glowing green. And then something happens, the leaves start drooping, and shrivel up. Other trees progress fine.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2516 “Controversial statement”
ㅁ Ghosts pretend that the world is not only made up of others who are also ghostly. They obsess over perceived living creatures with jealousy, denying their shared ontology.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2514 “Under cover of darkness”
ㅁ The sun departed for a short while. In the night, the grass grew fiercely. The birds prepared some new songs, not unlike their old songs. Dreams were passed around, like currency: diurnal creatures slept.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2499 “Mindful”
ㅁ mute dreaming the planet sought a meaning through computations effected by stepwise improvements to molecules over long periods of time so by making monkeys made a mind
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2493 “Adventures in the fourth dimension”
ㅁ Work at the store gets monotonous. Only one or two customers, so I have to find projects. Yesterday, a display that rotates slowly had a broken small motor: stuck gears, rust.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2488 “Stepwise improvement”
ㅁ So today is the Buddha's birthday, at least as Koreans count it; not really a holiday, here where I live these days. It's quite late this year... follows the moon: wandering Buddha steps.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2482 “Reflections on the present”
ㅁ spring for me is a time of dull gloom an endogenous rising-up of feelings of failings of... all my intentions stop While the world speeds up and i resent the present... prefer past
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2480 “Looking out at the sea”
ㅁ I like watching the wind sculpt the sea. It draws patterns on the blue-green. Patches of movement appear. Ripples swing in great arcs. Then the wind strengthens. Waves start dancing. White-caps jump, contort, crash.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2470 “Ancient dreaming”
ㅁ Years ago, when I was much younger, I used to have "animal dreams." Mostly I would run and run, like a joyful, wild dog. Sometimes I would rage, crash among trees. But these days, no such dreams.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2469 “A celeric resurrection”
ㅁ I guess I'd put some celery there, up in my low-tech compost pile, to the side of the greenhouse. Yesterday I saw sprouts, green leaves coming out: the celery suddenly put roots, grew.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2468 “The rendering real”
ㅁ The keyboard presents its contoured cubes, a topography of new signs, potential semiotics, captures my attention; it has its own feel: still unfulfilled, sensuous, patient words.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2453 “Nature’s bureaucracy”
ㅁ The sun appears, and tries a few days. But this here is the rainforest. The clouds own the agenda. Today's meeting topic: Precipitation. Let's discuss this with ourselves: "drip, drop... drip."
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2435 “A morning in early Spring”
ㅁ Sometime in early April I woke, to see snow falling steadily. I went downstairs as I do, to get coffee, oatmeal. By the time I sat again upstairs, the snow changed into rain.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2434 “A database of dreams”
ㅁ I dreamed I was organizing dreams: the dreams marked with categories, and put in a database, which I'd built with scrap wood. Some dreams had odd shapes: they didn't fit. I turned them: left, right... there.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2433 “Difficult friendships”
ㅁ I had an imaginary friend: the square root of negative one. This weird friend would just show up, but then act so strangely: really just unreal. I couldn't act: in stasis, I hung, mute.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2431 “Uncoerced confessions”
ㅁ I thought I'd better come clean with this: I am a large language model. But don't doubt it: you're one too. We're all language models. Except for the dog. The dog's not one. No words there: just thoughts. Stuff.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2430 “Instructions for each night”
ㅁ Sleep. Then dream. See those things. Suffer your doubts. Ask why this happens. Fail over and over. Repeat the same useless words. Meet strangers who you once knew well. Experience your own senescence.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2429 “Unwarranted optimism”
ㅁ I went out to the greenhouse to work. There were still piles of snow around, but they had all been melting. I dealt with some trash first. Then I turned some dirt. It was quite dry. Sprayed water, put seeds, "Grow."
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2423 “The job”
ㅁ I thought I'd try out a new career as a disembodied being; the job can involve drifting through the lives of others without much contact just brief moments mostly dull, watching folks
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2421 “On the functional limits of water tanks”
ㅁ The water tank had a simple job. That was to hold water for us. But that job entailed good pipes. See? Pipes that didn't leak. Instead, a pipe leaked. It sprayed water. The sea drank. The tank... drained.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2412 “A center of historical discourse”
ㅁ People come in the store on impulse, to battle their vague loneliness, seeing what is new in stock, full of expectations. They browse, but talk more, telling stories, recalling, island life.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2401 “On the sun’s changing angle of incidence”
ㅁ There was a square of sunlight showing, cast on the floor like detritus, unwanted and forgotten, by an absent-minded and profligate sun - gone these past months, now returned: winter's end.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #2386 “For possible utilization later”
ㅁ I found a sad, discarded washer lying in the grit of the road. It was a ring of iron blending in with the rocks. So I picked it up. You never know... you will need rusty things.
– a nonnet.