{"id":1703,"date":"2012-07-18T21:20:26","date_gmt":"2012-07-18T21:20:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1703"},"modified":"2012-07-18T21:20:26","modified_gmt":"2012-07-18T21:20:26","slug":"nathan-moore-712","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/nathan-moore-712\/","title":{"rendered":"Nathan Moore, 7\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"

Course in General Linguistics<\/strong><\/p>\n

Introduction<\/p>\n

I. A Glance at the History of Linguistics<\/p>\n

Language belongs to castaways and cult leaders. Students of Language wrinkle their foreheads and sweat when they chew. Language builds demand for the continued commercialization of Language. The house of Language fills with monologues and self-portraits. Language: a tongue slipping deliriously toward simplification by age and dollar. Language enters a gated community pretending to be silence. Language is a black-haired fly confidently touching a face. Language is younger than a pebble in a driveway, younger than the cliff from which the despondent jump. When the door to Language opens, a light turns on. As the door closes, the light pauses then goes dark.<\/p>\n

\n

II. Subject Matter and Scope of Linguistics<\/p>\n

Language spreads through contact with doorknobs and toilet seats. Language bridges the gulf between machine and oyster. Language possesses a half-life of two weeks. Safe handling of Language involves a measure of indifference. Language appears in Philadelphia\u2019s drinking water. Language stands at the second floor window and stares longingly at a rendering plant. Language distrusts long poems. Language attempts to taste the real and ends up with a mouthful of sand. Language annoys its siblings by patting them on the back of the head. In 1976 Language was invited to join the Book-of-the-Month Club. Arguments with Language often lead to hours of awkward silence.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

Famous Entrepreneurs, part 1: J.L. Kraft<\/strong><\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft stares at his hands.<\/p>\n

Everything he touches takes on a uniform flavor.<\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft is on the radio
\nmanipulating your prejudice against microbes.<\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft perches at the piano.
\nThe instrument\u2019s keys seem to remember his fingers.<\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft was not embalmed.
\nHe was processed.<\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft flirts with eternity.
\nHe sleeps in foil and dreams of an infinite shelf life.<\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft is radioluminescent.
\nThose closest to him are slowly poisoned by his beautiful glow.<\/p>\n

J. L. Kraft is at the furnace again.
\nHe\u2019s burning the furniture.
\nThe chairs become a memory made of ash.<\/p>\n

\n

\n

Famous Entrepreneurs, part 2: Ray Kroc<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ray Kroc divided the loaves: soft bread for a nation<\/p>\n

with bad teeth.<\/p>\n

\n

Ray Kroc took his place beside you. There was awkward<\/p>\n

silence at the urinal.<\/p>\n

\n

You had opinions about meat.<\/p>\n

\n

Ray Kroc fingered the keys, tapping a few sad notes.<\/p>\n

A crowd of pigeons descended on the piazza.<\/p>\n

\n

*<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This is the city of gristle and paper cups.<\/p>\n

Here every ambulance driver wears greasepaint<\/p>\n

and a scarlet nose.<\/p>\n

\n

This is the empire of air conditioning.<\/p>\n

Here the hours grind and the scent of boiling grease<\/p>\n

patrols the parking lot.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This is Pickerington, Ohio. The heat swims above<\/p>\n

the driveway. Mansions dwindle into the horizon.<\/p>\n

One by one we take our turns and swell.<\/p>\n

\n

\n

Three Theses on Political Economy<\/strong><\/p>\n

First.<\/p>\n

Between what I forget<\/p>\n

and what I discover<\/p>\n

struts my selfish pity.<\/p>\n

There is the road to my house.<\/p>\n

Here is the road to Wendy’s<\/p>\n

and Kroger’s. This<\/p>\n

road’s known angles<\/p>\n

lead to my refrigerator.<\/p>\n

I’m the guard of roast meat:<\/p>\n

crisp skin and suckling<\/p>\n

pig. I can’t make it<\/p>\n

through the kitchen without<\/p>\n

opening the ice box. I won’t<\/p>\n

abandon the blood sausage,<\/p>\n

the tins of livers.<\/p>\n

Second.
\nI work all night slipping scissor
\npoints under stitches. In
\nthe morning, your pants fall apart.<\/p>\n

While you sleep I snip
\nyour jaw hair. You wake looking
\nlike the Captain Morgan pirate.<\/p>\n

When you think
\nno one is watching, I draw
\nattention to your stains.<\/p>\n

Third.
\nTime of purchase is erased
\nfrom my receipt: no refund.
\nEmpty account. Tail spent.
\nI won’t describe the clean collapse.
\nI won’t squeal over the special news fix.
\nI won’t short the moral slip.
\nA damaged cabinet? A botched gutter?
\nProtest there — where chance has connected
\nheads to bodies and where necks,
\nat late hours, are rods that drop
\ntheir bait. If it weren’t for the spotlight
\nwe would never see our lines
\ndrifting in warm black water.
\nWith any luck I’ll die in a flood
\nof photographs.<\/p>\n

\n

\n

Transliteration of Catullus LVIIIb<\/strong><\/p>\n

LVIIIb. A Devious Camera<\/p>\n

\n

Non-customers slip fingers through illegal<\/p>\n

excretions. The non-leader’s ego pin-ups pursue us.<\/p>\n

\n

Nonsense? I pee gasoline.<\/p>\n

\n

Are you too afraid of light? No rehearsals<\/p>\n

are needed to eat the city’s unique baggage.<\/p>\n

\n

Addled hose, plump impediment: you locate<\/p>\n

a volatile burlesque. Senators,<\/p>\n

\n

your simulacra require curses. Questions,<\/p>\n

injunctions, cameras — my hair<\/p>\n

\n

declares deafening confessions.<\/p>\n

Take my number, busy medulla oblongata,<\/p>\n

and melt this language.<\/p>\n

\n

The horrible supersedes us.<\/p>\n

I see a quarter in your hand, estimate my height.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Nathan Moore\u2019s work appears in various places including Menacing Hedge, Fleeting Magazine, Pudding Magazine, and Everyday Genius. In May, 2009, he was named first place winner of the William Redding Memorial Contest sponsored by the Poetry Forum. Online, Nathan shares his writing at\u00a0Exhaust Fumes and French Fries<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Course in General Linguistics Introduction I. A Glance at the History of Linguistics Language belongs to castaways and cult leaders. Students of Language wrinkle their foreheads and sweat when they chew. Language builds demand for the continued commercialization of Language. The house of Language fills with monologues and self-portraits. Language: a tongue slipping deliriously toward […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1703","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nNathan Moore, 7\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/nathan-moore-712\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Nathan Moore, 7\/12 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Course in General Linguistics Introduction I. A Glance at the History of Linguistics Language belongs to castaways and cult leaders. 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