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ICON TACT: Poems 1984 - 2001
All the sections of ICON TACT were conceived as book-length single texts or serial poems; some of them were published as such in limited editions either by the author (as The Eternal Network) or by other micro presses. This book reflects a tradition Coleman has followed since Coach House released CORRECTIONS in 1985. ICON TACT represents the end of what Coleman considers to be his ?conventional? poetry cycle, during which only AMERICA reflects his current concerns with Oulipian constraints and poetry as a kind of word sculpture. LETTER DROP (2000) and MI SING (BookThug, 2005) represent one half of a four book set of which the third (based on Mallarms prose) is currently in progress. The fourth book will be concerned with the writing and the lives of the Troubadours.
- GenresPoetry
178 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
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January 23, 2022
The Collective
is the blind spot
of Democracy
Consensus
an agreement of the whole
at one's expense
Old people
only die when
they're ready
The young
kill themselves
thru overdetermination
After three lines
the usual idiot
goes for the phone
No one answers
* * *
I enter the realm of now
blown clear of the action
alone in the wonder of two
who knew? like God, what happens next
We walk into a moonset
gold on horizon, a welcome mat
for footloose rhyme, & rhythm
that gets you the points you need
to be freed from this realm
Topsoil goes to the heart
like mirth to the clone
Alone in the realm
unclear of the action
but consummate, elongated
& waiting for the right moment
to leap into the fray
w/ a surfboard that rides the universe
& toes that know only solace
* * *
The awkward hugs of friendship
little licks in the game
blown changes, pure luck
a family
*
We empty the blood
into the cup, like supper,
or lunch, a hunch we had about
the taste
*
Would that I could write
a musical that worked like
marketing in bed
*
blind bets
tend to impact on the
personal economy
*
poetry in concrete
brings tears
to my eyes
*
I fog up
every time
a name
disappears
*
Nicky never knocks
He breaks in
It's his way
*
Dinner tomorrow
will probably be fabulous
*
Cid Corman
eats shit
on the moon
*
There's only so much whisky
before we nod
towards God
*
Haiku
flavours reason
with a passion
*
Mistranslation
is the last
reposte
*
Fury never meant
to do that - mistake
never crossed my path
*
Laundry goes around
the corner
where it belongs
* * *
I watch you perform in my head
the heavy masks reveal only eyes
a disembodied voice touches my ear
I sit back & watch you perform
behind my eyes, your hands
hold your breasts up to my eyes
something in your body starts to undulate
as the voice turns guttural & low
slowly around the process
You climb from my vision as I rise to meet you
your tiny frame looms large
contains my imagination in a gentle strangle
Our hands are a single caress
on body parts that tumesce & self-lubricate
an oasis in the dessert
* * *
Can feel it
take up space
We triple
our trade in
provision
Second a
moment, not
now, other time
maybe next
week with love
in style in
your eyes my
body's a
pool into
which all jump
unbeknownst
to full water
fantasy
As you leap
letting go
again, a
loss, one more
moment caught
The pattern
survives, vibes
reverber-
ate, echoes,
inside my
passion. Large
rooms with flames
give glorious
space, our face
more care than
we can han-
dle, a stage
in our re-
lationship
that sinks into
the impulse
* * *
The bus to nowhere
where I found you
virgin, in the arms of ardour
three things open
holes in you
mouth, heart - maybe four
I can't count
We make life
love follows
Is it a space, a face
a grace unchangeable?
Is it time gone nuts with the bees?
My heart says go for it
simple language
an infinite vocabulary
Merely words & signs
mind sets caught in moments
But real time
is fiction over easy
stories told
emboldened by your love
my heart &
everything
that matter most
* * *
Tough meat
gone to
ground Ground
meat gone
to dine
Dressing
gowns and
hearts beat
in the
stomach
Wings in
delight
feet firm
in the
cement
of love
Time sep-
arates
cheese lives
not us
We sing
across
with our
bodies'
laughter
* * *
Go two!
It be-
hooves you.
Walk up
the I'll
like twins
friends - mends
heals wounds
long lost
Take turns
being
on top
Go light
a can-
dle in
the church
the bath
the child
Make it
new be-
cause who
Cares be-
comes a-
larming
Music
jumps up
meets you
Fire be-
littles
the trees
Forests
gone in
moments
What's left
of your
heart burns
In frames
you look
like Hell
A rose
is a
symbol
Your lips -
all four -
kissing
Little
buds of
springing
Singing
Angels
walking
Talking
in tongues
like Mom
I'm not
Joyce or
Yeats - Yikes!
I'm just
your Pop
the top
drawer
in your
dressing
Give me
only
your hand
to re-
turn to
the groom.
* * *
dear jw
O'Hara is dying in the dunes
Guitar the axe of apes
Tropes assigned their millennia
Billions of dollars in debt
Florid pillars of regret
Big Boogies behind the weather
Following the head that cried melody
Or called the siblings dirty names
Carving a mythology of sonic boomers
Including both waffle and vacuum
Into whom won't two go?
There's a seam in seamless
and it's always crooked
From walking that way to the bank
Of the River of No Return
* * *
A florid
orange
rhymes
nothing
mothers
abortion
canceled
build
destroys
drive
pollutes
manufacture
migrates
air
blackens
lungs
blacken
*
A
faun
forested
breath
in
trees
topped
farmed
but
never
clear
cut
Water
shed
tears
disappearing
mountains
decapitate
progress
Plant
Revolution
Sew
buttons
seeds
blood
brothers
un-
named
* * *
So yellow
over the mountains
casting a gleam on the snow
a 'shadow' on the water
Sun's mirror
trees too far away to smell
*
Much good fortune in retrospect
Plenty faux French food
Much drunk annoyance
Say, attention, stewed
No moon tonight, bu thought
came into play, a cloud
around the moon that wasn't there
an aura, light, like Gerry
Recycle the sound, echo
without saying
the original
art
*
Media
No moon
as far
as I
can see.
It's not
me it's
the trees
the fog
the ra-
dio.
*
Origins
We come from
the moon - we
arrived like
snow, rain, hail
something like
that - weather
the big bang...
Fall down go
*
An
other Moon would so
prosaic
like the sun
in your eyes
blind for a
moment - deaf
for a mo-
ment, meant I
can't hear, see,
believe in anything
*
Rakosi
One
word
enough
so
quit
already!
Silence
ensues.
Guns &
butter.
*
Taxes
It is my right
to walk around the trees
to see the moon!
*
Maureen
Walk with the dead
see if I care
I'm no less dead
than the next guy
may be pinker-
ton - is this a
western? Are those
trees over there? -
the goddamn moon
keeps
shining
blocking
our view of
the stars
*
Wife
If there
wasn't
a moon
where wd
you be,
Baby?
*
Linneaus
Title first first
name middle name
last
the shoe
a poem to commemorate
some dead friends:
the alphabet
let's not
go there
*
The Davids
One was
obscure
the oth-
er was
obtuse.
What can
I do
I do
love them
both - men
in con-
struction.
*
Jazz
Trane crossing
boundaries
blowing cool
before cool
had heat - he
in vented
sound - he re-
tarded some
thing, we think
possibly
Queen Street - where
we eat like
persons blessed
*
Pouch
Dead sons
given up to the sea?
Ladies! I
love you like
everybody else
in a large group
where my denial
of yr grief
will be palpable:
a wake.
*
Con Alma
for Pouch Cove
Piano
River / Creek
Ocean
Sea
'Fish":
Cod
Snow
Now
God
Help you
*
Reid
Brother
in law
Outlaw
Stealer
of moon
big fish
in small
ocean
*
Don
Put on -
No, put
off - no,
write but
and then
quit - end
the be-
ginning
Don't be
the big
bang - it
doesn't
rhyme.
*
The Beats Are All Dead
I've always thought
there were too many syllables
in "alphabet'
so haiku were
the only way
to do
*
Tomorrow
an inadequate hoku
The moon
came up
a day later
THE END
is the blind spot
of Democracy
Consensus
an agreement of the whole
at one's expense
Old people
only die when
they're ready
The young
kill themselves
thru overdetermination
After three lines
the usual idiot
goes for the phone
No one answers
- Sock Options, pg. 9
* * *
I enter the realm of now
blown clear of the action
alone in the wonder of two
who knew? like God, what happens next
We walk into a moonset
gold on horizon, a welcome mat
for footloose rhyme, & rhythm
that gets you the points you need
to be freed from this realm
Topsoil goes to the heart
like mirth to the clone
Alone in the realm
unclear of the action
but consummate, elongated
& waiting for the right moment
to leap into the fray
w/ a surfboard that rides the universe
& toes that know only solace
- The Spin Cycle, cont'd, pg. 14
* * *
The awkward hugs of friendship
little licks in the game
blown changes, pure luck
a family
*
We empty the blood
into the cup, like supper,
or lunch, a hunch we had about
the taste
*
Would that I could write
a musical that worked like
marketing in bed
*
blind bets
tend to impact on the
personal economy
*
poetry in concrete
brings tears
to my eyes
*
I fog up
every time
a name
disappears
*
Nicky never knocks
He breaks in
It's his way
*
Dinner tomorrow
will probably be fabulous
*
Cid Corman
eats shit
on the moon
*
There's only so much whisky
before we nod
towards God
*
Haiku
flavours reason
with a passion
*
Mistranslation
is the last
reposte
*
Fury never meant
to do that - mistake
never crossed my path
*
Laundry goes around
the corner
where it belongs
- Endgame, for Steve Cope & Marshall, pg. 26-28
* * *
I watch you perform in my head
the heavy masks reveal only eyes
a disembodied voice touches my ear
I sit back & watch you perform
behind my eyes, your hands
hold your breasts up to my eyes
something in your body starts to undulate
as the voice turns guttural & low
slowly around the process
You climb from my vision as I rise to meet you
your tiny frame looms large
contains my imagination in a gentle strangle
Our hands are a single caress
on body parts that tumesce & self-lubricate
an oasis in the dessert
- Imaginary Performances, pg. 39
* * *
Can feel it
take up space
We triple
our trade in
provision
Second a
moment, not
now, other time
maybe next
week with love
in style in
your eyes my
body's a
pool into
which all jump
unbeknownst
to full water
fantasy
As you leap
letting go
again, a
loss, one more
moment caught
The pattern
survives, vibes
reverber-
ate, echoes,
inside my
passion. Large
rooms with flames
give glorious
space, our face
more care than
we can han-
dle, a stage
in our re-
lationship
that sinks into
the impulse
- for Carla Bley, pg. 57-58
* * *
The bus to nowhere
where I found you
virgin, in the arms of ardour
three things open
holes in you
mouth, heart - maybe four
I can't count
We make life
love follows
Is it a space, a face
a grace unchangeable?
Is it time gone nuts with the bees?
My heart says go for it
simple language
an infinite vocabulary
Merely words & signs
mind sets caught in moments
But real time
is fiction over easy
stories told
emboldened by your love
my heart &
everything
that matter most
- Grey Area, pg. 65
* * *
Tough meat
gone to
ground Ground
meat gone
to dine
Dressing
gowns and
hearts beat
in the
stomach
Wings in
delight
feet firm
in the
cement
of love
Time sep-
arates
cheese lives
not us
We sing
across
with our
bodies'
laughter
- Old Goat in Espanola, pg. 74
* * *
Go two!
It be-
hooves you.
Walk up
the I'll
like twins
friends - mends
heals wounds
long lost
Take turns
being
on top
Go light
a can-
dle in
the church
the bath
the child
Make it
new be-
cause who
Cares be-
comes a-
larming
Music
jumps up
meets you
Fire be-
littles
the trees
Forests
gone in
moments
What's left
of your
heart burns
In frames
you look
like Hell
A rose
is a
symbol
Your lips -
all four -
kissing
Little
buds of
springing
Singing
Angels
walking
Talking
in tongues
like Mom
I'm not
Joyce or
Yeats - Yikes!
I'm just
your Pop
the top
drawer
in your
dressing
Give me
only
your hand
to re-
turn to
the groom.
- Epithalamion, pg. 81-83
* * *
dear jw
O'Hara is dying in the dunes
Guitar the axe of apes
Tropes assigned their millennia
Billions of dollars in debt
Florid pillars of regret
Big Boogies behind the weather
Following the head that cried melody
Or called the siblings dirty names
Carving a mythology of sonic boomers
Including both waffle and vacuum
Into whom won't two go?
There's a seam in seamless
and it's always crooked
From walking that way to the bank
Of the River of No Return
- A Wake for Zappa, pg. 100
* * *
A florid
orange
rhymes
nothing
mothers
abortion
canceled
build
destroys
drive
pollutes
manufacture
migrates
air
blackens
lungs
blacken
*
A
faun
forested
breath
in
trees
topped
farmed
but
never
clear
cut
Water
shed
tears
disappearing
mountains
decapitate
progress
Plant
Revolution
Sew
buttons
seeds
blood
brothers
un-
named
- The Natural, pg. 116-117
* * *
So yellow
over the mountains
casting a gleam on the snow
a 'shadow' on the water
Sun's mirror
trees too far away to smell
*
Much good fortune in retrospect
Plenty faux French food
Much drunk annoyance
Say, attention, stewed
No moon tonight, bu thought
came into play, a cloud
around the moon that wasn't there
an aura, light, like Gerry
Recycle the sound, echo
without saying
the original
art
*
Media
No moon
as far
as I
can see.
It's not
me it's
the trees
the fog
the ra-
dio.
*
Origins
We come from
the moon - we
arrived like
snow, rain, hail
something like
that - weather
the big bang...
Fall down go
*
An
other Moon would so
prosaic
like the sun
in your eyes
blind for a
moment - deaf
for a mo-
ment, meant I
can't hear, see,
believe in anything
*
Rakosi
One
word
enough
so
quit
already!
Silence
ensues.
Guns &
butter.
*
Taxes
It is my right
to walk around the trees
to see the moon!
*
Maureen
Walk with the dead
see if I care
I'm no less dead
than the next guy
may be pinker-
ton - is this a
western? Are those
trees over there? -
the goddamn moon
keeps
shining
blocking
our view of
the stars
*
Wife
If there
wasn't
a moon
where wd
you be,
Baby?
*
Linneaus
Title first first
name middle name
last
the shoe
a poem to commemorate
some dead friends:
the alphabet
let's not
go there
*
The Davids
One was
obscure
the oth-
er was
obtuse.
What can
I do
I do
love them
both - men
in con-
struction.
*
Jazz
Trane crossing
boundaries
blowing cool
before cool
had heat - he
in vented
sound - he re-
tarded some
thing, we think
possibly
Queen Street - where
we eat like
persons blessed
*
Pouch
Dead sons
given up to the sea?
Ladies! I
love you like
everybody else
in a large group
where my denial
of yr grief
will be palpable:
a wake.
*
Con Alma
for Pouch Cove
Piano
River / Creek
Ocean
Sea
'Fish":
Cod
Snow
Now
God
Help you
*
Reid
Brother
in law
Outlaw
Stealer
of moon
big fish
in small
ocean
*
Don
Put on -
No, put
off - no,
write but
and then
quit - end
the be-
ginning
Don't be
the big
bang - it
doesn't
rhyme.
*
The Beats Are All Dead
I've always thought
there were too many syllables
in "alphabet'
so haiku were
the only way
to do
*
Tomorrow
an inadequate hoku
The moon
came up
a day later
THE END
- Moon Over Viagra, pg. 161-170
Displaying 1 of 1 review