Khaled Hakim

First Routine Second Variant: The One with the Shoes the Haircut and Herbert Marcuse

I wantid to do my erliest rutines that I never do anymor. &

From my continud expojure to performs art I have concluded. Nothing changes. Human natur is ultimatly - bisckit.

At this time poetri is [the sqwid/ litte doodle on a Yellow Pages/&] his alienacions.

Coz [insert latest fatbusting reserch/Gulf War combat chic/philosofhy or somthing], /ordinary peple or somthing, caus thats like emptying ptry of

human shopworn tokens. [/2ndhand indignasion,        /] that disipate its ends in my mild narrativ energy

So anyway. This is a poem abot the [pornographi/shoos/lawndry/] Im always [never/washing/dumping/never/].

Lyke, wen y/ [go into Ravels/Becoze they dont /] trying not to laufh --

the usual skizophrenia.  & the other [/Kung Fu slipper neurotick]

[Descrybe yr riht foots iresistible swishness/the ciropodist coming on yr/     /still are/] – a pm of spiritual crisis/former shell - [/transformacion, blah blah] blah.

I gos home, my left foots starting to ake, & my arch is straind --

& I’m thinking, O no, everyons had [brekfast/chicen pox/]. How can you be such a dedbeet.

So anyway this is a poem about how I bowht a pm of graet vacuity…I mean evryons had [had it /yuve had it/        /had/]-- a complete nonreturnabel washout.

Yeah join in.

God dammit, I want some [aire freshner/] arond here.

Anyway this is a pm I rote about.

Once its surfis has been scratcht out [insert selfharm/] belying the affectless blah blah --

This is a poem abot the haircut I always get - after the shoos.

[Its a solipstickal/ the lyrik moment,] were formal structur seems to collapse in on its

& anyway my hares finaly gone thru the 60s into a mess. So I put it up in [kitchen utensil/hairgrips & /storage] to save it & [Except moms /      ]

Are yoo a disapointment to yorr translators - Problems at home…Try Maybellene mascara – to lift & separat…thickens & seazons all in one.

Anyway I stil dont now except [Descryb yu want it /consentration camp/survivalist camp]. So I go in - Basiclly, I want a girls harcut, I says. Well have a look at this, she sayz & gives me this [power tool/form gide/  –

& I am /wrekkt distanse/ tat] & the [/mothwatering manes] not

& shee [   /    ?  / descryb her rubbing her pussy aganst yr sholder. ]

Describ [But she was ever so /]
[ strip all the 2nd hand techneq - coz thats [       /       ] .

[Go home/blah].

Dear Herbert Marcuse

Pleas explane the perversitie of [The Gift/commoditiz/the gaze]. You hav God & y/ buy this owtfit & [try 2 other disparat routines/] & yr hart [arhythmea/transplant/ & yre] floting on angel dust /eeryone asks if yve had a facelift –

I wil never hav to buy another child in my lyfe - you say to the outfit coz yre so derangd w/ hapiness. & even thoh [cut it short/] yr life is over - you have the Owtfit.

& then the niht yoo [cut it short/]

Why doz this hapen.


Dere Frantic –

I cd giv you a lot of theoretikal hooey from my Harvard corse abut Repression & alienasion of the inner yoo, but Id be lying.

As we use to say at the CIA, th truth is evry girl has a faery godmother who is exactly like her real mother. & even thou yore using slimline salad dressing & yove airobicized & even waxd yr bikini line, come that important engajment yr evil faery godmother coms along & wavs her magik wand & says, Haramjadee, I told you!

Pleas send a photo.

& thats th truth - abut harcuts.


This is [So this is/ wen I was befor/] a pm abot when I was [/giving/ulcerus] why I waznt .

Becuz I was [finishd/wanting] when I

be an [/So im an/] I says. Only I never …

& waiting for my [I seys/ I dole to /] what id I manage to scruwnge from my [my fancy mice/my furrier prince/] my I – it cumes on me this [ me ? /reqisite translacion/] me

– just wat I did sed I me--

Are you a disapointment to yorr parents - Hedacke, tenss nervus headake – try Maybelene coral lipgloss - spreds strait from the fridge - cool, firm, satisfying…

– that fere of th word & [rewrites &/like] lozer [milky hooker/] style.

All [my/American/] nacural [speech/gifts/ ? ] I was a 24 carat personality. Piddling into yr shoubox [insert a qwalificasion/] selling yr [/insipidity],

[apeal to the awdiens shared “Nescafe” experians – this nihilizm.- Say it was nothing to do w/ selling yr handjob at the /Home Offise].

drifting thoz wanky justificasions.

So Anyway. This is a pm abut all the backpayment im owed. & [why this] iznt

The truble w/ late Moneys/[acting trustfund sqwatters] - is, ye got too [subsistans/ ? / ] - ever aspyring wajeslaves –

So this is [/never/this is] a pm.

– [waere basiclly, y/] cathekted in the shobox like porno, & it all piles up & then theyl be sorry.

Ive finishd now.

Birmingham 198_?/1992/20__?

Khaled Hakim has returned to innovative poetry after almost two decades away. In the 1990’s he published sparingly and performed semi-improvisatory routines that had a passing acquaintance to David Antin's talk poems in their roots in minimalist and conceptual art. He disappeared before his final publications in the anthology Foil: Defining Poetry 1985-2000 had even come out. A book called Letters from the Takeaway is forthcoming, and The Routines: 1985-2000, is being prepared.