Cadeaux #2 – More Gifts


We only rise from sleep, we only come to dream. It is not true, it is not true, that we come to live on earth.

— Tochihuitzin Coyolchiuhqui (1390 – 1450)










V. For Gottfried Benn  


             rather than a, b, c

& repetitive order              

I am seeing for the 1st time

what this mind has to offer





VI. For Wols 


squiggly symbol

I am invisible

looking at the 

squiggly symbol 

presently it tilts 

(my mother calls)

squiggly symbol





VII. For Ossip Mandelstam 


based on prior experience 

I have doused the chains

so the actual fires were 

a belated goal of experience

death grins at me & blinded

              I feel my way into her realm











F for Fake by Orson Welles (1974) – Chartres 


Peter Bies © 2011 




Cadeaux – Gifts


“I have great faith in fools – self-confidence my friends will call it.”

— Edgar Allan Poe 










IFor Rimbaud:                             


I began to notice movements

I’m not sure why I was happy

to watch the fiery falling star

a lifetime and a universe ago    





II. For Manet:     


I feel the first stirrings of something

resembling meaning, figments of my lonely mind –

not all of them, but

they were expected to be at work today  





III. For Utrillo:  


Time to breathe & sober up,

and check my heart rate

for my Maman to believe it – 

I am alive!     





IV. For Baudelaire:  


Rest of the pills

down the drain,

& head back to  

the living lodestone!               













Man Ray’s experimental short film: Return to Reason (Le Retour à la Raison, 1923)


Peter Bies © 2011



Ozone Fault Line

“We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”

— Charles Bukowski





November 7, 2021


HAMMERBROOK STATION…  crisp reactor coolant sky & I wanted my I put down – influx overload! These vacuum tubes protruding red hot from my forehead – are they real? I’m going insane & it’s beauteous… Brodmann area 41 whispering oblique subpoetry… time wars on limbic slavery/ toad poison hailstones & quivering/ mushroom clouds! Sunlit subway tracks went up, diminishing in perspective… I heard the shrieking train, I could smell the ozone fault line… Doll Mother, starve my heart with your antarctic soul! Sure, cut my pain reliever with your pheromones & turn your back on our past… empathy plus delayed insight equals bitter-sweet regret… I’m picking up the mirror shards…











Anne Clark – Sleeper in Metropolis (1992)


Peter Bies © 2011