the muse apprentice guild
--expanding the canon into the 21st century




SEVEN WORKS
BY JOSH MOORE

this poem goes 10,000 times faster then speed.
this poem is 5 days jail time.
this poem is sitting illegal in state university dreaming of proto post
hackneyed beat lit zipping with irregular ideas and false dreams and rotten
teeth.
this poem is not being able to log onto litkicks.
this poem is dreaming about women with your zipper flying down.
this poem is playing easy beatles songs all day long hoping for attrition
without so many casualities.
this poem is a new born baby.
this poem is a laughing monkey.
this poem is reality.
this poem is people pacing around the information desk. this poem is the kid
across from me adjusting his baseball cap.
this poem is listening to marshall mathers on a farm extremely hung over and
throwing up.
this poem is the pretty blonde walking out of the library, this poem is the
black lady is with dreadlocks staring at me.
this poem is time ticking on the clock waiting for an hour to pass.
this poem is silence.

this poem is returning to the bar to have another couple and talk about
fucking some honies.
this poem is getting a dwi and running out of money.
this poem is hoping to find someone.
this poem is that brown haired skinny girl making eyes at me.
this poem is her walking towards the magazines and walking back, lost.
this poem is hearing me type much too fast.
this poem is about finishing before the allotted time on hotmail runs out.
this poem is blisters on my feet and perma tracks on my arms.
this poem is south dakota or utah.
just wanting to get out.
this poem is hating the fact the mr. dj plays nothing but no doubt.
this poem is a hemoroid.
this poem was never borne and never will die.
this poem is j.m. singing to cancel his subscription to the resurrection and
send his credentials to house of the detention.
this poem is yoko ono and getting really drunk.
this poem is the mind of your mind flying an airplane into bloomington.
this poem is crashing into the ids center, like a suicide from the 27th
floor hitting the ground near starbrucks. this poem is about getting out all
the things you ever wanted to say before you have to take a piss.
this poem is a complete and total miss.
this poem is alcohol.
no, its drugs.
no its recovery or prayers from above.

this poem is god.
this poem is no religion too.
this poem is you.
this poem is being high on hash and thinking about french symbolists.
this poem is kick writing faster then you can think or feel.
this poem is jackson pollack.
this poem is cendant.
this poem is life that happens after the fact.
this poem is prison.
this poem is freedom.
this poem is stupid inmates and hannibal lector.
this poem just keeps justing better.
this poem is every goddamn kid wearing beads like there are a hippie.
this poem is the piece of hemp around my neck.
this poem is doing your homework.
once again this poem is jackson pollack.

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FULLY

I was born into a fully enlightened state.

I don't care if you believe me or not.

I'm not here to save souls (even my own)

preach or convert.

I am here to unlearn all that I learnt.

Yet I writhe in samsara awaiting the next bardo state.

I don't have to be kind, warm or placed in probate.

The path I choose is my own, lonely with a balding pate.

There is destiny but not fate.

Salvation by grace, is unreal and out of place.

I'm buddha not boddivista, so why explain this anyway?

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MINNESOTA

And the flashing red lights of the plains seem remote and far away,
It's okay to be fake, to alleviate, radiate, and make a break. Feel sedate
well regulated and slightly faded, life does not have to be mundane or
plain. It's okay I don't feel so great nauseate, medicate, disarrangement
and rearrangement. Disarrayed with a plain statement. Come to Minnesota,
land of 10,000 lakes all happy.

I know this must sound sappy to be happy, so its okay to be plain tame
insane with a whole chorus of refrains. So catch the train or the plane so
that flashing red lights of the plains seem very far away. All the same to
medicate, regulate, not get the date slightly faded and very well sedated.

(when you can't even recall what is a dream and what is reality)

(when you can't recall what is a memory and what is actuality)

(when you feel sedated and well regulated slightly faded and jaded)

one little chicken
went out of the house
to turn into a mouse

one little chicken out of the house turned into a mouse

just well sedated!!!!

Just well sedated!!!!

For it slightly faded

And now medicated

And well regulated

And still little jaded

No two shades

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FEB 6

Feb 6 a full moon
I could tell by looking out the
Window
We're at a wild house party
I'm a little drunk

Immaculate soothsayer lonely lively

Vibration in the cosmic sea chanting

Om and Mu so lovely

Holding hands

with this same sea

all and nothing felt at once

after great concentration

then release
happy to lay in

the

shores
we call arms

as you take me about

the others

past infidelities arcane

obscure

untrue

washed away in a wall of

bliss

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THE DOORS

the doors on the radio god i want to be just like him
get sober just to get all fucked
i got the looks and the charisma -a poetic bent and showmanship
am i being realistic? prolly

"let it roll"

what's so hip about self-destruct

i don't know

i don't give a fuck

you see i got that attitude

that shatterhood

where is my bass?

playing it naked in the sunshine

c'mon all you jack keroaucs

-unlimited road to devotion

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HEAD COLD RAGA

lord krisna i tried so hard to be close to you,

at first there is hope than it slips down the slippery

slope...

hare hare krisna hara hara om hara hara shiva hara hara om

i tried to obey the laws of dharma,

i chanted my cosmic mantra om,

i stared at the sky until it turned blue and didn't even

feel numb...

hara hara krisna hara hara om hara hara shiva hara hara om

i grew a beard and became a rebel, by most standards even

danced with the devil

oh lord shiva i tried to follow the teachings of sutra yet there is a woman
i love none

hara hara krisna hara hara om hara hara shiva hara hara om

oh lord shiva i know she will come...

oh lord shiva i know she will come...

hara hara krisna hara hara om hara hara shiva hara hara om

oh lord lord krisna i tried so hard to be close to you, i

tried to follow laws of dharma and freedom there was none

i meet a bramha i became his son...

i felt all differences washed away in the basking light of

the sun

i looked to the past i looked on to what will become

i turned away from a god who offered his son

hara hara krisna hara hara om hara hara shiva hara hara om

i sat in a bardo state losing my seat with temporal and

spatial distortions, i put my body threw all forms of

contortion, given option to follow you, or have a faith

abortion.

hara hara krisna hara hara om hara hara shiva hara hara om.

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BURN

last night i relapsed
without the slighest guilt
i burnt my hand frying chicken
and the blister mark is deep
i put on some patrouli and listened to vanilla incense burning to the smell
covered the whole room

i felt like i let something out, i want to a party, i smoked some dope, i
walked home in the cold and nearly fell down

and of course (echoing ginsberg my voice was) i thought of you i gambled for
a bit made 500% profit meet some new people

probably made an ass of myself

its weird because i don't want a drink today.
i am a little bored.
i am super okay.

i did laundry and cleaned the apartment, i didn't have any cravings i didn't
want to get lit.

i listened to a friends band most of the afternoon. strange to hear them on
cd. i played some songs i wrote on my beat up guitar. i felt regret at the
fact i cant drive my car. i checked my email nothing worth noticing there.

now i will go outside and smoke, listen to birds.


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