Exlpoding Jukka-Pekka

Or rather his poems are exploding. Or they're first imploding -- gases gathering, grouping (while at the same time resisting -- re-fusing -- the group's surface connections) into a centerless less, a de-center -- then exploding. Visit his September archives for poems downright "whole" compared to the poems now riddled with black and white holes, rife, ripening, with space. These earlier poems are sound texts, egging on oral readings:

why opted burnt fuzzy fully buzz buzz crazy beast obey speak mash hosts hotel hopes boots vote delve enter quiz knife knelt nil edify offered hacks or chop moves fuss bombs yards with royal dares heard birds skies custody beats at lag ride risks mid sided folks peaks scope tear sneak sinks scarf swung swims swum wrung among fewer ping dim taps stall snaps lockups user await sawed waded aids city smoking delve doll yearn seeds self feed whipped heads fool swaps cones royalty lets eagle facet eats rely calls opera hope impeded merry raced purse pulls hurt worse seams per where like dying meal hones beset how fake sake sands freak kept slows macro gamma pace creator groping lit sum abacus prose died sugar tease tent reads case uses midst bitch bled wrote milk orion buying lip with realism chip nested pass was wake aside pal wine darwin wind toned life manned canes cable range owner aches weird where land cried micro grids views sowed cut occur pluto tails leaks chi units bleed amiga flap must camel for scar seam theme speller drive burps shine where shift thick final liner saves

The December 14, 15:30 poem is leaving the text behind, moving into sound, taking up residence in the clicks, ticks, slides, slips, slurs of the alphabet:

Check his blog in six months. I'm not sure where the language will go but I'm certain there will be energy that compells.