Taste of Cherry, a mini review

Dir. Abbas Kiarostami, Iran

Long, wandering sequences coupled with descriptive sound work capture our proximity to the earth- the desert bed - and the impending storm.

sun n fun

[A "response" to this.]

girl running along beach
girl swinging her arms
girl open mouth
girl laugh
girl brushes hair
girl flails arms
girl runs toward water
girl runs away from water
girl shot from behind
girl turns around
girl smiles at camera
girl does a dance in the water
girl splashes water at herself
girl swing around arms in windmill
girl turn around
girl run back other direction
girl subject ass close up shot
girl is focused from the front again
girl runs past the camera
girl is lying down in sand
girl is making frontal angel in sand
girl shows breasts very close
girl opens and closes mouth repeatedly
girl is showing breasts very close
girl rubs hands together
girl pushes herself up
girl brushes off legs
girl brushes off stomach
girl brushes off breasts
girl brushes off cleavage
girl brushes stubborn sand
girl continues to brush in various directions
girl smiles at camera like oops
girl opens mouth and closes mouth
girl lifts bikini string to clean more stubborn sand
girl giving more mouth opening and oops look
girl shot from back
girl turns around
girl acknowledges camera
girl sit now standing and brushing off sand
girl cannot remove all the sand from her butt
girl is bending over
girl is blinking
girl is opening and closing eyes
girl is possibly suggesting that we go somewhere else
girl is now crawling on sand
girl is sticking out her tongue at the camera
girl continues to crawl on sand as camera close up of but
girl is now showing close breasts
girl is now crawling in a hip moving way
girl is opening and closing mouth and eyes
girl is moving shoulders close together to press breasts bigger
girl is stationary on sand
girl is allowing camera to focus on her butt and torso
girl is opening mouth

Here is a short piece I wrote about biting the inside of my mouth very badly

buzz just bit
my mouth so audibly bad
I was sending news to followers
from various continents
while spitting blood
porcelain indeed dyed.

you could hear the meat crunch
like Genghis metal
rubbed and urgent tartar
drip dry. PS.
even the kitten notices.

La caída

las piedras de mayor tamaño tienen 50 toneladas
un niño juega como un niño, entonces que ¿como
un culo?

O al revés, el mundo es discípulo
de todas esas hijueputas que no usan basureros
de economistas pragmáticos de varios paises

que se visten de mujer pero ¡que va! De acuerdo
con lo del culo
sin control, el mercado va al espectáculo
en busca de opiniones: saber es saber ir para atrás
abre el mundo payaso

su juego llega al finca rota de símbolos desconocidos
por el mercado
un amigo más tetas es un sabor.
Grandes pechugas, más

grandes con impuestos al pasar la frontera
en camion con chofer bajo la influencia
el niño menos malo, camino al culo
el palo, mas un mundo culon reconoce un don.

drop in gold

gold drains cover the remnants of
ancient ducks, unable to breathe
the old man who sells his land
and becomes a spectator in his own family
is also patronized in what looks like gold

covered, he preserves his family
and so covers them entirely in gold
because to him they are worth the extreme
resale of his own farm as extreme, he's criticized
by people not in his shoes
who with nicer shoes sold their farms first
but did not cover every possession with gold
not like this man.

The man decides gold later is too heavy
and that if you were born on the land you remained
because dappled in gold you inveigh enough
no one will contest your rightful claim
with land at a premium it's not surprising
an easy way for business grads and success
by marketing and involved alchemy:
of human flesh + gold bones

one explanation for Maya infidelity is gold, fate
since its glow was first shown irresistible
by Spanish invaders, the Maya were exposed
vulnerable to fancy, being wooed by beards that loved gold
they first put their feet in, and wet, sunk deep into gold ponds
and were soon stuck and carried home, they remained
lack backs, European muscle not being impressive

the Maya struggled on their land, as theirs
as the statues indicate pride until Spain
Finally, with a move to rid Mexico of gold
arrived in ships instead of muscle to cart home
obstinate artifacts staking the jungle possessions

once on the continent the statues treasures
were put in towers, stored, patted
behold these relics, statues of warriors, our riches we found
while occupying a small terrain.
Most used the language they had
and some sang or built storage units
keep the gold away from subjects increases its value

But the Maya ingenuity created calendars, astronomy
left behind, unready to surrender to a wooden boat
plotting a course for populated cities whose little regard
is a great place for vengeance, where no one expects
a few armed soldiers smelting to bring down a nation
because – the township opines – the union is soft
and incongruent with colonization and puppet regimes

so Maya, tight in the hold, patient to destabilize
Europe's method economy, the Dutch bankers
sold the idea Spain keep the gold abroad
charged interest, a win/win, but Spain between gasps
sputters to kneel, because Maya gold now liquid
there now phalanxes of Maya warriors disguised as gold
Coat Europe, gold went cheap, the Dutch smile.

I will be teaching "A Worn Path" later in the semester so here's this...

The revolution will be atomized

The new ticket

it's who you know

A CEO or a baron, a multimillionaire by all estimations, could befriend all of Washington, and it is then said that all of Washington has befriended a wealthy aristocrat with ties to global capital via his infinite commericial network, an aristocrat capable of sealing the fate of thousands of children through the most basic economic decisions made at his companies.

We don't fault these Washingtonians for the friends they keep. We never say, “He has links to murderous global capitalism. His candidacy should be questioned and he should be imprisoned without trial.” Service to capital, no matter how destructive to human life, is never regarded as terrorism.

not ilk

Will there be prizes leftover
when the incentives are refunded
the refund is a refusal to engage
flanges get a refund when unsuitable

a momentary takeover of rebuke
missile comfort
hang your head from the lintel
urge pace
Dock in heaven we are told
I'm honestly guessing

coherence please
as to the esophagus plain adheres
collusion must
as it tramples a bile twentysomethings
shouldering the musket
shouldering AR15s (widowmakers)

an empty reference pest
refuels the reply to return politely
make Amens

I gave back my body as a refund
I gave back my rent check
I gave back my quarterpounder
I gave back my dead guys
The only questionable project is the food.

A small scout should promise entirely possible rebates

do you plan on addressing this conflict
we have with the spaghetti

order one pfaltzgrapf urn I have popped my head
floating outside the tent
based on reordering times

until my face is what a writeup contains
we constructed
we built this teeming
we are selling for Hershey Park

every participant with an opportunity to coagulate this donkey
and the preternatural fields were awag

bet i'm thinking i'm so parsley
cannot be assimilated into a proper cheese

but my nerve adventure nears its friend territoriality
and I want the amusement rides
why not write two essays

discuss the barbarity skin slap to rhythm
and recoil from nuke 'em

coat

I am going to dress in a big puffy coat
this will double me in size
over that coat, I'm going to make sure I put another coat
and over that coat
i'm going to put another coat, another coat.
I'm going to put another coat until I'm mobile.
When I'm mobile I can move freely in the cold
because of several coats which I'm now invested in
I'm going to keep dressing until I don't own a coat.
If anyone asks me for a coat, I'm going to respond
that I have all I need, and to avoid complication
I can't start handing out coats because I don't have enough
to go around. Then I'll shiver and scrunch in my shoulders and
grab my coat.

DFW, interviewed.

"solo"

Únicamente, nada más, sin otra cosa:

no me atrevo a cruzar el bosque

Expresamente, sin otra intención

te escribo solo para felicitarte.

Único en su especie

Porción de terreno donde se destina a edificar

Que está sin otra cosa o que se considera separado de ella

Dicho de personas, sin compañía

Que no tiene quien le ampare o consuele

Desierto: Composición o parte

de ella para una única voz o instrumento

interpretó un solo de piano.

"punta"

Extremo agudo o afilado de algo, generalmente alargado
Extremo de una cosa
Ángulo externo de algunos objetos
Clavo pequeño y delgado
Pequeña cantidad de algo
Lengua de tierra generalmente baja y de poca extensión que se mete en el mar
En el fútbol, posición avanzada o de ataque
jugador que la ocupa
Zapatillas de ballet con un refuerzo en el extremo
En gran abundancia

"el menos malo es el más bueno"

Similar to many other democracies, the world of Costa Rican political commercials is usually pretty grim, with candidates portrayed as either scions of the community, conveyed by action photos of each interacting with others: helping their constituents; or as eloquent and dutiful public servants, shown speaking candidly to the audience directly "though" the camera.

Costa Rica is a direct democracy; you vote in your own president and congress directly, no electoral college, which fact is important when the above commercials are made, since the only requirement is to win a majority of the popular vote. Costa Rican presidents don't have primaries and they aren't required to win in otherwise innocuous battlegrounds like Ohio and Iowa.

So needless to say, I was much surprised with Christian Democrat Luis Fishman's series of commercials, "el menos malo es el mejor" (the least worst is the best). The most hyperbolic and outlandish of these being this one here.

I'm not sure about the baby and the chorus of pregnant women, but if you're interested, there's another video of his explanation of the video's symbolism: something garbled about babies representing new starts and days after elections...blek.

Here's the song's translation:

I'll vote for Luis
my baby will be born soon
The least worst is the best
that's why i'm voting for him
He's the best.
A realist, w/o illusions, I believe him
that's why in February
I'll give my sincere vote to Luis
I'll support the least worst
with flags and a banquet
I'll celebrate it honking*.
I'll follow him.
I'll vote for him.
He's the besssssssssssst!

“The least worst is the best. Fishman.”

[*In Costa Rica, soccer and election victories are celebrated with incessant car honking.]

every Scout should replace water periodically

This is from a longer piece called swords with lord baden-powell


our great wetlands
where land is wet so sure

there will be abuses (hold on
to your auto fruition

not to mention unclean subject)
to nominal rejection by opposite sexos

where these are in opposing
life into a gamer's game schedule

small ants collect around scouts' middles
these are food the real slow food
ant vs. whoever grasshopper

enormous vs. steadily enlarging
swollen for a reason vs. taking up inordinate planning
for the family planning entry

small stork wage a war for survival
in a scout's nurturing hand, the charges democratize
and the stork learns a to appreciate fragile homes
a lesson from here:

these lands opened up for development
without asking
no one with permission and rules
is interesting enough to flying animals.

It is (adjective) to (verb) with your (noun)

Don't tell me your noun/verbs w/o telling me first what those adjectives mean!

Elements of Style

I missed this when it was initially posted, but look: funny!

Or worse yet...

"I thought I was going to die, we were so high up," the card said. "I thought to myself: I hope we don't crash and burn or worse yet landing [sic] in the ocean, living through it, only to be eaten by sharks, or worse yet, end up on some place like Gilligan's Island, stranded, or worse yet, be eaten by a tribe of headhunters, speaking of headhunters, why do they just eat outsiders, and not the family members? Strange ... and what if the plane ripped apart in mid-flight and we plumited (sic) to earth, landed on Gilligan's Island and then lived through it, and the only woman there was Mrs. Thurston Howell III? No Mary Anne (my favorite) no Ginger, just Lovey! If it were just her, I think I'd opt for the sharks, maybe the headhunters."