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KJ #9 Staff Picks (2)

This week we’re featuring a piece that has all the right elements we look for when it comes to presentation. Many times people ask us, ‘What is transcendental realism?‘ If you Google the term, it will lead you to some oversimplified explanation of Kantian philosophy or some such nonsense that surmises TR as nothing more than an instrument of cognitive dissonance. Pragmatism being a proverbial Sword of Damacles for many bloggers, it seems that a resounding sentiment is, well, if it serves no clear design, if its action is sardonic observation, black humor, and overwhelming Nihilism, if transcendental realism is founded on an illusive ontology that mirrors other aesthetics like infrarealism, Dadaism, surrealism, and the like, what sets it apart from any other mottled art movement?

We reply with the following poem from DC Demarse. As curator for KJ #9, Nate Maxson set out to bring in a slew of new talent that exemplifies a lot of the aforementioned influences for Kleft Jaw. While DC’s poem was exceptionally crafted (especially considering its length,) it was simply too long for publication, unfortunately exceeding the 5000 word limit set in our submission guidelines. Nate and other editors had the chance to discuss this at great length during episode 2 of Kleftikos radio (see below) and certain alternative options for publication were mentioned. While it is not common practice for KJ ed. Staff to make exceptions for work that does not follow guidelines, DC’s poem STANDARD FAILURE COMPULSIONS AND COMPLEX whole heartedly deserved some recognition. And so, we present the 2nd addition to KJ #9 Staff Picks from ed. Maxson himself.

LFWF. WFLF.

 

 
STANDARD FAILURE COMPULSIONS AND COMPLEX,

of what should i speak to debilitate myself

just to understand what i would need to come back

what would need to haul up from enfeebled briefness

a long age for time to stand itself astounded

 

as i gather reap collect what have you of what of death

a thing a solidity hanging heavy by the breath

and so

i hav driven to understand that by the words of a friend

who has seen little of me and yet he spoke my aim

 

who is as slick as a cat between the bars of the crazy house

and should i be as thin as that just grief the preamble

to a sense of the well leave me unsettled

 

with a few dry words a horn for the pain to drum keys

a piano all over the concept of pain pain to live in

 

and by that darkness deliver drive to what strummed pluck

requires a man brave man the brave man to speak ageless

in the long neon run a bruise upon the glow it is us there

hush hush you speak as to get away from yourself

 

you lion of praise that gives a shit that alien friend of fringe

between his cubs doubled over them from poaching blackness

and money take none be thin be starved and to die for

the good a maze filled with complications an uncertain shore

drafty and for the queue of life to stand querulous i hope

i hope i have not met my greatness yet it is before the time

i grant myself i have been an automatic stride of things

i waltz on the fake subject telling it fake it is known already

an age to dance and celebrate the stupid fakeness

 

it is a good thing it is alright

live for the shuffling vinyl creak

it slaps water of weird weeping

margent a gent is upon us

 

a good guy regular as beans his waved flag in hand

he says hello to the odd shit and it comes crawling back

to a half body half root of tree of fire fed to blossom

 

into some different awhile ago it was different thing a peace

no licentious howl no police asking for my license just regular

make a party make a mind for those you love that’s what i want

but that has waned and a squire for beckett i am instead

 

but bless the awesome jungle of notes and keys would you

i just teem with subjects i let them make of me a frosty therapy

because i am the stolid dew on grass wanting to really be

to really inhabit a gross fear but different i prepare

 

to test myself turn a magic eye upon a commonalty a tribe

i of ruby stone delectable beauty eat it hoggish warfare

 

big wash bilingual meanings meanings for the sloshing boat

connect urge with some different space some thing that’s not it

bleed a day as night connect finite particles particular ones

rousing as bleak purpose for the fair child in port a nice one

 

i want something that is not what i want that is exactly it

how absurd and base how trenchant a concept really it is

for truth is only an untrue untruth a

thing through the cracks yea

 

bled monsters skimping on the deal getting beat some shit

that would be enjambment or some wrath of meter

a fumbling chick for her keys

 

singing like notes before upon evil

her skin shattered with panic she is

for the dolt to dirty she

 

believes she is toast he makes sick music of his awfulness

but that is another story i suppose i could never make

besides what it is beaten to death i can’t make a need of

things so bad they twist my look into a stupor of overwhelming

rage bless this for it is confusion’s highest death a seizure to

start again to trace decrepit circles dusty with hummed matter

trade the homeless for tacos no i do not think so or some

giant making a drumming anxiety in the big forest

or fluting birds stopping as she lies in a gutter o yea

 

after gunpoint couldn’t persuade i bled distance left the plod

of giants a murder for my true flowing to color with bad words

fuck fuck see the explaining shore lapp slashingly seas

down to fall out in a bathroom needle in arm

 

bad shit is bad shit would be cruel to turn it well i suppose

so i remain slick thru the bars

like a cat in heat bleak is bleak

can’t make that good

 

as i make assay of my normality

like smoothe jazz smothered in boring in the egyptian limo

taking us and everyone in the world to the place where

everyone has really black raven hair for some reason a port

of air or airport different from a port in air like stevensgod

a portent rings like keys of piano to unlock the car

 

but on the trees and splayed out in the gutter na don’t

don’t think about it course through veins said that before

and regular as peach the patio is a thing that exists in the sun

and a bowl of rice is a week’s worth of feeding unbelievable

 

only the rugged thoughts given worth to the regular

could bless the running tires of the poacher’s vehicle

with dark bloody blood or something like a patio in the sun

and blood flowering naked confusion’s spread luck

 

over the butter as it itself spreads over the magnificent toast

and that is also what is the rapist’s victim: so: how to feel

about any of this if any of this could be sense how furtive

would lucidity be how would a runt be a giant but for

 

a logical rut undue to dig out of we must out of respect

remain totally raped by the entire world forever to spy

inconvenient saviors at the wrong time of day or in a spell

of naught we ignore as seeing backhanded ourselves

the nefarious troubling thing that chases to save all us

beleaguer that point will u until the unit stops being matter

and zero counts as something not what sense what’s it into

a whole void makes battle cry with the indecent flagwaver

who a cloak over the bloke make sheets of deepness

 

grow a fine fire round the knees of space cranegod that was

sore explosion trust a name for your wreck you are backed

by what you have learned i trail your honesty i don’t know

what this is is it i astounded at amphibious the learning lurch

through bogs of content an expression of the brain i would

be happy to make an amazingness of this regular shuffling

of cards make a savor donned in priggish pollyannafaced

mandibles of shoulderstrap and golden godlike tassels

 

and maybe at the hand at victrola to spruce a tune up that

he made alone for the big fucking ball later he wants wonder

he wonders where is tha cat now i wow myself into spectacle

a grunting harassment of oblique nonsense grey matter

 

of the brain representative of wanting get beyond fire blossom

something changes every so often usually everywhere

 

i will knee you in the nuts yu clutched my bosom she will

fuck you up berate your teeth with her alive spunk a foot

into them methhead still dumb mind a broken man no morals

just in need of oral not this time kid please risk your death

for dignity i will do not worry little voice in my boggy head

a raise asked for will not be ogled over so keep it secret

 

for the big fucking ball is a new mythology of invention best

do what i have always done risk everything in order murder

commands me to death in debt she wanted a raise she

was waitress walking in parking lot at night that night a freak

watched her and how to make any of this like a cat thru bars

or a lion protecting cubs or tunes of space clutched in keys

 

pianos horns people on the way to black hair as lordly straight

as INSERT FAMOUS MASCULINE ACTION HERO ACTOR HERE

oh no more carnage more nerve against loving logic logic

 

sexless doe was too good for ye ye dumbfuck thief of reason

you deny deny deny yu die what’s death again i thought

 

it was a twitter of birds magpies in trees singing empty vowels

made magical with syllables a melody induces calm science

of the mind of matter geraniums of confusion’s spectacle

atop a halting single

 

eye a march of judgment letting itself pass

in the merchant for his silk to east india a trade a stock

he doesn’t need a raise as much and isn’t all of what i said

 

before about protection really and conflicts of that with

being caged is not what should be done what is wanton and

irreligious with flustered newness unsupposed as victims

 

who think home is a drive away how should i feel a celebrant

for the wicked tunes that hover like a languor of smoke

 

above a terminal filled with people cigarette in hand hundreds

of them i am them all of them i am hundreds of people i am

also myself along a selfish way my girlfriend wants to break

 

up my asshole wants to stop clenching itself my dick wants

to piss pee out of its main vein i am vein i am the despicable

capable of nothing that is exactly what i flaunt with teasing

 

impossibilities posed like happy emptinesses a wound to charge

with idiocy blood diluted a simplistic train wreck into smokers

new filler filler filler make it better can’t deny the seen then

 

deny more shit leave everything out of the box there’s a seal

a holy vaunted marriage

 

of all with all which is amoral there that

id is what obliges us murder and corrupt hate the world with

me now so normal to do that nowadays as if such could be

a rewarding schedule in the place of daily prayer wish the world

 

dead with wretchedness

already a blanch on the balance a

burn of the books a tool for little

by little an anticipatory strangeness

something a loss filler filler

 

filler repent repent repent ignore

ignore ignore hate hate hate but live

live and die well please i

 

beg myself don’t let the arguments a dilettante provocation

wept by seeming drowsiness drowning in judgment the victrola

is a spastic glittery paradox of water not water but that is bc

it is filleted in the wood of word and want stupid cur of biting

reason at my heels it chases me like a savior should a savoring

breach of chance into definiteness a solid hour of dug splinters

by the thousand carving ye hand into ye head a music dappled

with slaphappy water you will one day never see again it will

just breed,

 

and tailcoat your life out of existence it will write under

whitman’s leaves a whispered strength a mandible from depths

is my dream a phantastic bourgeois for the ill wrought mighty

to gild to make a broach of weeds to snip furious trash to use

a benchmark as a place to sit your ass and moreover to finally

howl unexpectedly and to the rhythm of shared thoughts ad

 

infinitum for the skylark is the

tree and is the bush the skylark

is they who launch after twitching

a wing to the next place to

 

get jugfuls of water to the bearing down man on thrones a

scandalous touch of greatness assumed tho beneath a great

man i shall take him at the talk and fade into being a guy

into assuming flourish to charge with a big lance going to

the immaculate ribs of furthering fortune’s blasted handle on

to that a failure must i focus i must focus deranged and

distracted sell the point as to how you feel now says i tell

your feet to scream with itch master the smell of burnt plastic

 

and nicotine in the tray this

bed this lonely isle of the piss poor

so much we revel in the idea of the horrible all estranged

 

so very that all of us must

create i must make a point, i must

be earnest that is all i expect from

myself filler filler filler stop

 

this self talk you banter and cluck

like a rooster brought to life

within a space of matter outside

of the entire universe the

 

brain of shoulder tassels for the ball what else who else but

states could recompense delays that i have sanded shut

for nothing is what it seems urge on my sober friend get blown

by pretend evil little tykes screaming achoos as they gulp

but that’s a drastic distance from the point itself a drastic

distance from the point already made the made man hung

himself in the big palace on the hill citizens cope with give

sans take merely they waste money on ungratefulnesses

for the sake of complete mental relaxation a serene purple

place for ultimate feelings and untrippy concepts just a one

diameter one straight launch of the loogie thru straw or stone

from the slingshot or hurtling boulder from the ancient giant

now as time passes a distance distanter than any reason to

mar with quoting could resuscitate blue

lungs filled filler filled

 

and pleasant the face the granola shithead or shiteater with

his grin likewise oh do we all hang from the banister tossing

our schoolbooks at the year’s end vie vie for the freedom

of the near sexual appreciation of vacation and stoppered

glory at summer’s end more similar to blueballs but consider

the tripe people put out as poems is it

not still freeing or is it

 

if done for labels names identities

something more like a highly

deliberate and committed lie to life

fake it till you well till you

 

continue faking it but over time will seem to make it as AA says

my ame is alms to blather and blather so sorry for your loss

 

cliché cliché stupid wretch theys

interesting renegades out again

in their jalopy firing a squad

 

of gunmen looking for high up places

sniper at tower shoots pregnant lady

guy in trunk of car blows up

 

gestation nobody ever found the

jerk summer of sam zodiac

all this gruesome belligerence at

tha hand of a knife and all this

struggle not to give life up torn

 

skirts bruised hands in self defense

where to shoot the gyre then where that is to allay the problems

that are a few people out of earshot from the disgusting truth a

manic psychotic depressive lunatic harvard professor a sane

psychiatrist same difference don’t hire the good hire the bad

so that it feels good to fire them and go postal yourself at the

havoc they cause we all everybody should just be allowed to

murder at least 40,000 people before we die is this poetry

it seems more like snooty edginess or some vanilla shit from

this vanilla guy renouncing thrones to where take the waterjugs

and marrying a frigid frump or shrill viper what to choose

between

 

i truly really want to resist

duality even by starting wrong anyways

or just being a contrarian asshole

is that enough to wear your leather

to be your cool guy to tip

 

sunglasses just beneath the eyes like a

cruise of tom that is i am being weird and facetious now but wow

the particles grey matter bleeding redly out of brain spank that

monkey follow that gator to the gallows hang a gator cheap punk

smell all that incense was incensed at overpaying the hippie

            returns to the store with random

holistic shit and runestones inside

only to find that like the

tasselsman at his victrola for the big

fucking ball it all and everything makes

   love with chaos and as

 

the devil don’t change once danced with he as the tasselsman

beeps oinking coinages as like drowning before a trough and cats

fear chinese restaurants for obvious reasons well anyone would

fear always oblivion a chastener beyond chasteners what if tho

this whole thing has a core trickling down up to the middle of

wherever i decide to end maybe it will be a bad knee hit against

sharp angles while muscles twine

again working overtime to

repair a cyst all and all and

all of it more out of it than doubloons

 

to pay for anything do those even exist or were they just pirate

slang like way long ago random wondering of something adds

a risky fissure to what is already a quake of dragging syllables

down draining slow as syllabub where’s the maker of the mark

where’s the cairn where’s the runestones lobbied for by hippies

wanting to return incense and finding a new interest and topic

of conversation with the owner of the

store forgetting thereby

 

about being ripped off and a little

high gets ripped off again but

all this is naught bloody naught water

made of blood in jugs lets

 

brace ourselves to have recognized

the middle mark at least

 

let us brain the world numb sleep it with the fishes even tho

70% of the world already is i believe take it back to present

since something interesting happened in reality apparently

a screeching tire guess somebawdy wanted to put pedal to

metal hirelings abound but no jobs maybe that is why awful

murders are because nobody has filler for the time so it just

passes like molasses and then upon breaching the dirty void

one goes blank and shoots everybody dead what a wretched

world but i speak under leaves i am the grass they fall upon

i am i declare a hue of the reasonable segue denied for

 

brilliant heave and flow meter and dancing of the fucking ball

maestros control with a flit of candied flute or something

people good at what they are good at these days are not

recognized have a nice day i sat a cat down on the thrones

i mixed harpies i witched lava to life i went to my dume for

the duke of dunes wretched sand celebrant a penetrant blight

worse than locusts makes lacoste the focus hang the gator

segue denied to surprise description of present a fitting gift

 

to girt the filler together to sly

the ages out of reckoning more

than a skinny cat a void made of

horrible shit or something is-

 

-sown in my mind but once quoted is not that really regalia

shoulderstrap magee there taking a woman’s breath in 1800’s

someone named HER escapes rapist for a long time failure

we must celebrate that we or at least i am intellectually

celibate i depend upon inspiration i take my wow at myself

for granted i grant a grand to the hirelings whom needing

work call for any type and in desperation lend money for

nothing nada a pin drop sounds suddenly like screeching

tires the world is a bowl of cereal the world is also a buzzing

yellow jacket against the walls of an old navy store nag nag

make it new? hah? the only thing left to make
new

 . .

is failure? o dear sweet god what?

your prayer smells like trash.

 

you feel around an endless body of water. i meanwhile

go on uttering for forgiveness as the man burns to ash

yet he was a man. that is what all remember before

the rain dance. let him have his critical period of life,

put a finger to your lips. i am filled with flies that greet

me as i pass into garbage. nowadays folk fuck too much

and love the layers of grief. roaches stink. but those

are just words. so are the queer shrill bats hiccuping into

abominable night. they have their own lesson, just as i

am stuck in a bathroom, stand on my toes, think of

something to bring to light, trade spate for sapien, live

to sit a toxin down for his mobbed glasswares all over

the carousing infidels, bleed crumpled up pieces of

[paper]

 . .

it is rain, and the dividing sun seems within

some deeper state beyond anything

implied, spoken, casual as nude pears

 

caught, implied, and left as what they are;

locates a tranquil center of uplifted war in the drops

that perceive themselves as autumn in the jug,

 

tossed worlds into the characteristic backseat:

a thread thrown to search not slay the fibrous

heaven made by what is rain: a weak throat

 

tempted still to make fable of the drift of drizzle thrown

with stinking moth-eaten robes and clothes, again

not shared, not welcome, not infinity nor fortified in

 

muddy consequence: i let the measurable delay

a proper speech to make a picture of that healing:

a crevice, a balm a center of a sun’s approach in

 

speaking to make one crave more music here,

an optic prim to slake a tad the tanner attitudes,

unique elaborations, misdeeds felled by the larks

 

of memory, always as unfocused as the hassling light

upon a blinking world now of the drizzle and staid

as rock of nonsense, bellied born needs for form

 

as recourse from a mandatory loping off that’s all

disease, all makeup, all imperative to understand

and bind, each drop a letting not of but for the waste,

 

intended not unkind but full of dreams: serenity,

the state a hope, the sunlight not even the rain,

nor is the rain reflecting rain to plow a context

 

out of rubble, but rather pleasures life away into

thinking, wept seeping onto ground that dries it:

a miracle of proverb unfilled for worth, a massive

 

orb each, that falls not even secondary on the

secondary concrete that worlds fill up with,

that manners cry to see, that loafers denounce

so as to make their ease a point not unraveled

because its potency lies life on the floor, the ground,

 

the earth of incarnation of abrupt thru the abrupt

incarnation, existing thus beyond the words a casual

friend, an interesting lover or fiend to misery,

 

a cotton caught at bramble and felt in seethe in

tiredness, and that to feed frustration: that a symbol

for the hurt one feels in inability, in pose too meant,

 

in dwelling long too long and eagerly on pain,

a result itself not from folly but chance, the dwelling

folly. how and where do i forget my launch forthwith

 

into sorriness, configure a blessing or two, reassure?

it is as much to deify the small, small rains as sun.

a benign destiny filled with sharp platitudes, balmy:

 

and aims,

feeding a mere mellow peace

blankness tumbling down mellowly.

-DC Demarse-

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