Lewis LaCook
Since 2001
Works in Lorain, Ohio United States of America

ARTBASE (6)
PORTFOLIO (7)
BIO
Lewis LaCook makes things. He is a programmer/poet. He likes unstable objects. He doesn't eat enough. Send him all your money.
Discussions (792) Opportunities (1) Events (0) Jobs (0)
DISCUSSION

VITALS


One could say, I woke up
into heat halo, alleuvial,

penetrated by a hunger
lumbering across the day.

It would impress one, I suppose.

Or one could intone, I stole
the code (don't drone, or

if at all possible, lisp), then
maybe I adjusted things, replacing

an image with smoke (in antiquity,
this was called theater, and

marriage was one). There's an awkward
bird on the balcony railing, just landed,
and I'm pushing my hands through her

trying to land the perfect job.

=====

http://www.lewislacook.com/

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DISCUSSION

PURE POETRY # 2


I am writing a book that disappears as I write it.
Each sentence
lifts itself from the screen and hovers in the air for
a moment,
as opaque as used smoke. This sentence, too, will go
with the
others--I can't remember what I came here to say.

=====

http://www.lewislacook.com/

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DISCUSSION

APPLICATIONS


He ruins himself with it, the map says, and
rain the size of fictional suns reacts with
the interface of her spinning and cleaning the
groceries up from the whirlpool fan-belt
on which they'd spill'd. Meek blood
and dual air-bags, they never could fathom
why so much information was
missing from his application. It was
written in Java, or C++. A document
could take years to crystallize in this heat,
the map said, and then took years to fathom
why the present tense felt so wrong in discussing
her aspirations, all breathlessly snake-bitten,
and no-one on the roof could forsee just how
brilliantly
the projects failed. We wrap it tightly in waxy meats
with movies on our eyes, replaying more than the first
time he disappointed her, he shrivelled up when
the angry big and silver burning corporate building
on his skin released these frigid bats. I wish I could
tell the story. But the security guard won't let him;
it's beautiful to be alive, the map had said, and
you just lay there with plaster skinning your head.

=====

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DISCUSSION

THE PAIN OF SKIN


on the passing of my grandfather, Roy F. Beck

The pain of skin. Hmmmm.
Chapter one. Hmmmmm.
How the World Works....

You get yourself born and
you get your haircuts, your
acne treatments, your first
bath in another's sweat, and then they

all leave you alone to your
hard drinks, your dead love's
bed. So you sit in the kitchen

and never get dressed again, with
a caged bird to talk to, and
cigarettes to smoke.

Uh-huh.

=====

http://www.lewislacook.com/

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DISCUSSION

Re: undefined


> but what's art? what's an object? what's an event? what's a sense? what's compulsion? what's a hallucination? what's a reality?

bliss
l

The art of manipulating objects (or events) for a compelling sense of reali= ty. [synonym: hallucinate]

david goldschmidt