Dimensions of ‘ROE



Last week I asked some people to spam their friends and, with them having done so (thanks, them), it seems now like a good time to launch into a phase new.


So, now, any new piece that we write will debut on Wednesday nights, right around 8 O’Clock, so that you can follow along as it is read aloud, to you by its author, in studio or by phone or by avatar, on Boston Free Radio. You can TuneIn, stream at bostonfreeradio.com, or do whatever you’re privy to.







Establishing Capture

            New York 2/13/16

by Rob Rice




Mill and machine into

Inclusion’s round logic

Those little crescent shavings

Don’t inhale them


The broadness of it

Its yellow-grey lights the sidewalk

Which is rough and sandy when

It’s broad daylight


And where does the crime come in

Inextricable recondite tertiary crimes

The beam of sidewalk

Some side street’s grey girder


Some crime dripped all over it

And was collected in cups?

Balanced on his feet

In broad strokes

(He said)


Look at me

But don’t look at me

But look at me

Look at me

I can’t have this

This not looking at me

You’re doing

I’m the parade for these pants




And you want to be taken home

You brat

Everyone’s looking at you

In your bonnet and sack

You’re such babies


You’re dead

You’re dead moose

Your last moment, seeing yourself mounted

You’re sold as atmosphere

To hover over the haute meal

Where they’re “still thinking”


Clean kitchen

Clean kitchen

It’s a constant fight for balance

You wanting the sick from the cleaning products

And me the dirty surfaces




Spinning in

A cream enters the rotating basin

Of chocolate and is absorbed by

Eminent domain

As a formality


Or begrudging for a moment a salve of affect

Bactericidal balm at the scar line


And leave me back here wandering

Ein kinder roaming

Waist high grasslands on the moon

Which are bound by physics/the definite need for water


Endless, even generations of water

Still silver sliver of moon

Its blue edges swishing





Wake up and use energy, valuably, ever?

Why do you think of your hands as a different person


Go away

And be thankful the sea was so exhausted

It bowed and accepted of

What would have otherwise been


Piles of former kipsy


I feel a bit of resistance or occlusion

On your part

And it treats me to the threat of all this’ ending





I’d like a snug answer

Satisfying like the massacre of an ant hill





Less tragic tragedy

You’re relatively embarrassing to mourn




Sleep celebrity

Make out artist

Makes a killing

Slimy eek

Bottling public trust water for profit


Better than better!

Bigger is back!

Bigger is new!

And better is now free!




You have critically contaminated the experiment

Hence the pending eviction from your share

Leave me alone with that little anencephalic pout

Why is it grounds for a photo?


I have a miserably feeble language

Such that

I feel aimless and acting when I think

It’s like hard air, everywhere


Like the plumbing that formerly scored the city

Rafters, baffles, cowl, sweeps, wye

Were started in on by cement at the source


The disciplined

Assault themselves

Purposing deliberate miscalculation of your banality

/Your permissive rearing and allowance

/Your defiance to a bringing out broadness

As kenosis


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