Just An Acre

If counting and accounting
and statistics count, oh
so to speak, then I have
by that accounting, well,
existed. There is a record
of me. Two questions: Is
there a record of you? And,
if there is, so what?

Women's bodies are
slightly and infinitely
different from
men's bodies. This
difference has fueled
many of my nights
on Earth. If you

would argue about
differentiations
of sex, of gender,
then I applaud you.

I'm just an acre
of existence that
broke off. I'm just
a congregation of
lore, learning,
laziness.



hans ostrom 2013

"San Joaquin," by William Everson

Way Past Post-Whatever

You're no frond of mine.
When I deploy an avatar,
I am no friend of me,
and yet of course I will
be online-intimate with you.

If everything were all right
off-line, online would not
be such a place of refuge.

I am not a simple man.
For I have not evolved at least
that far.I am the make-shift product
of the what-before-me-came.
I have no name.

We're out here, there isn't
any map, and our compasses
have collapsed. This all to me
is good news. I understand
why you think otherwise.

I am no friend. I am no
fiend. That said I listen.


hans ostrom 2013

"Broken, Amazing, and Awful"

I Have Seen

I have seen the sun
and I fear the calamities.
I have seen the sun
and I seek no remedies.

I have seen the moon
and I've kissed the cool air.
I have seen the moon
in its jeweled lair.

I have seen the stars,
mostly in books, alas.
I have seen the stars:
the avant-garde of mass.


hans ostrom 2013

"Dreams," by Langston Hughes

Christmas Poems

15 Poems on Youtube related to Christmas

Video: "Emily Dickinson and Elvis Presley In Heaven"

Re-posting the short film based on my poem of the same title.

"But Men Loved Darkness Rather Than Light," by Richard Crashaw

Extra-Canonical

Some Harvard professor left a parking citation
on my bicycle. It said, "You are extra-canonical,
so get out of here." I saw a shard of
greisen (a rock of quartz and white mica)
on the ground and felt better. Just then

Donnie came buy, so I bought him a cup
of coffee and me one, too, and as we
sipped I said, "Donnie, a screen memory
is a memory a person can handle so the
person uses that to block a memory
that's too painful when called up."
Donnie said, "Hard to prove that
kind of thing, but that don't
mean it ain't real." People at

the next table were talking about
a new kind of crampon, and Donnie
said, "Where do you think they got
the name 'Tampon'?" I said I didn't
know, and then I imagined all of
reality spreading out from that
place, our conversation, and
the exact texture of the scene,
from murmur to odor to costumes
and movement, endless I say
endless physical, social, chemical,
economic, biological, and
extra-canonical transactions."It

really is all quite fascinating
in spite of its problems, isn't it?"
said Donnie. "Yes, it is," I replied.


hans ostrom 2013

"Scholars," by Walter De La Mare

"1970s Spasm"

Hey, man--hey, you net-box jumper
and rainbow-thumper. I'm seeing
albums raining down without their
covers. I mean thousands
of black albums coming on in
like swarthy, thin UFOs. ("It
just means it's unidentified,
okay? You need to fucking
lay back, man.") And I see now
the complex map of my life
is being etched by a diamond
needle, digging into undulant
vinyl, shined on by blue
lava-light. Hey, play the
other side, play the other
side, hey play--oh, okay,
cool. (It's getting cold.)
Nice tuner! I need a beer.


hans ostrom 2013

"God to Hungry Child," by Langston Hughes