adderall | tramadol

one for marco. unfortunately winter makes us think of poetry.

by Eduardo Ramos | January, 2006 | ?: poem | 1 Comment enjambment the period key on my laptop is broke thus you must trust that the dots are there every line ends where it ends there is no enjambment none, not a bit, not a single bit the units of sense are well-separated sentences straddle themselves no verse ever leaves its place then you can imagine where it finishes it happens when the poem’s done that is [...]

Poetry is dead to me, so ignore the irony of all poems forthcoming

by Eduardo Ramos | January, 2006 | ?: poem | No Comments poetry and the dog seem dead I am tired of poetry. It sits on the floor next to the panting dog. Oh well, they sigh. Nothing is left. They are both passed out, both winded objects, one of which is a bitch that was never leash-trained, one of which is poor at running through suburban streets, one that’s sitting still because the room is so [...]

In search of a place to be born, part III.

by Eduardo Ramos | December, 2005 | ?: photo, poem | 1 Comment index, very carefully structured, in no order whatsoever, in a few worlds: The evil aye or the Evel I; ring-around a tree of fire; fire; Treigh O’Feire; Granny Smith’s tree; gonna take your kitty and sell ‘im to a Chinese grocery; hoja de vida; fire of the trees; queixos de tetilla no fume de lume; me, taken surreptitiously as all things; lamp light burn all night; mono-desaturated [...]

One about Rosie

by Eduardo Ramos | December, 2005 | ?: poem, texts | No Comments from Stories from a forgetting land . . . Rosie is on the ground passed out with clout. An authoritative run has made her come undone. Seventeen minutes in the land without sun, the night-sky sidewalks of Falls Church. Seventeen minutes in the cold trotting, [...]

Preamble with Banter

by Eduardo Ramos | December, 2005 | ?: poem | No Comments Preamble with banter I dreamt that the sea was drying out but it wasn’t. I dreamt that the snow was burning but it didn’t. I dreamt I won the state lottery of poverty. I dreamt I was somewhere under the rainbow. I dreamt impossible dreams, dreamt that I dreamt impossible things. I dreamt that I could not love, but only dream. I dreamt I was being dreamed but I woke [...]

for the academic factoried

by Eduardo Ramos | December, 2005 | ?: poem | No Comments Also, can anyone give Joaquin Bueno their thoughts on: the discursive belligerence of universalising texts and their pretensions of extrinsic referentiality, and how the intrinsic, infinite truth of the work of art in the classical sense can suggest a riddle-space in which such external truth-processes have no origin and violence is thus abolished? And then, [...]

clackin’ away in ole cackalacky

by Eduardo Ramos | December, 2005 | ?: photo, poem | No Comments typing ’till my fingertips are nipped by numbness. until my senses are dull dull dull like a ladybug imprisoned by winter. for the moment, enjoy her and my finger, before both are dulled down to shadows of themselves. also, a treatise on dullness. [dullness] Dullness is essentially a dull thing, that is to say a not-so-sharp thing. It is dull, [...]

It’s not like I promised you a poem part II, or promises must be kept like pictures-in-a-box

by Eduardo Ramos | December, 2005 | ?: poem | No Comments I gave you the poem I promised, and now we release it into the world for those who find it in the blahg-box of this space! [A picture-poem in a poem] There he sat, one cool cat by the window, while the nighttime walls were cut up by ribs of light. I tried to put him on a piece of paper, [...]

this is the last week of our lives…

by Eduardo Ramos | November, 2005 | ?: poem | No Comments …in two thousand and five. no it’s not. stop universalizing your suffering, you silly rabbit. it is the first week of my lives, in two thousand and five, in which my camera is two hundred and fifty miles away from me. so images will be made with words, have you not heard? [Upon the Museum for the [...]

welcome, human, to the chipmunk’s lair

by Eduardo Ramos | November, 2005 | ?: photo, poem | 1 Comment For some reason this website captivated my attention. As my “sister” says, I can have so many cups of coffee and still fall asleep. http://www.lookalikes-susanscott.co.uk/ And now, some spontaneous [w]o[rds]n[pictur]es! [Upon the absence of Rosie in my pictures] Rosie cannot be photographed for as a pup she had a buzzing burden strung ‘round her neck, a shock-charged collar to keep her [...]
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