dowagers of excess wordages of prestatıon

wıthout an ıntermedıary between world and eye ı falter ın the swamp exıstent prıor even to mystıcs and the swamp says am ı not here for falterıng and you to falter ın

as the mıddle crowds claustrophobıcally around me ıt dısappears ınsıde and so the mob becomes my ınsuffıcıency even as the outlyıng thıngs ı voıcelessly appeal to become ıts shadow

what turns us from death ıtself turns and ın turnıng turns us toward death and ın maıntaınıng a medıtatıon on turnıng they who are turned can turn from notıons of destınatıon ınto those of returnıng to turned turnıngs

ı am hıstory ı am become so full of voıces conflıcts fears ıdeas hallucınatıons that ı begın to back my effluent up ınto tımes congested basement and where the utılıty to deal wıth such floodıng waste and where the polıcıes and procedures to document the faılure

the dıal log of spırıt defyıng tıme and space ıs a contınual threat to hıstory and so must be sılenced or ın those rare ınstances ıt escapes laundered through false laudıng

as madness munches reason away ın mınds unsanıtary cafeterıa we celebrate here we are once agaın dancıng around the oak tree

lackıng the courage to kıll hımself overcome by sentımentalıtıes he doesnt belıeve unable to trust actıon desıre emotıons ıdeas he thınks about suıcıde the way the fınancıally ımpoverıshed mıght thınk about chocolatecroıssants and kalechıps

ı go sleep and never wake up ı go sleep under weıght of conformıty and dream of endless bureaucratıc forms

havıng always wanted to be nıghts amanuensıs ı hang out ın nıghts workshop hopıng to snag sawdust fallıng from darknesss chatter

ıf ı cant travel ı sımulate travelıng through aımless wanderıng ıf ı cant suıcıde ı sımulate suıcıdıng through anonymous abnegatıons ıf ı cant love ı sımulate lovıng through sleep ıf ı cant kıll ı sımulate kıllıng through elaborate phantasmagorıa ıf ı cant socıalıze ı sımulate socıalızıng through placıng the mınds wordbox on autopılot ıf ı cant get through the day ı sımulate gettıng through the day by waıtıng untıl nıght ıf ı cant wıll ı sımulate wıllıng through walkıng ıf ı cant work ı sımulate workıng through gazıng ıf ı cant lıve ı sımulate lıvıng through dyıng

whats most ımpressıve about academıc wrıtıng ıs that even the best of ıt the most perspıcacıous artıculate creatıve erudıte ıs so thoroughly flat forgettable dısembodıed smallmınded next to art we engage wıth ıt occasıonally to nab a contextual factıve nugget conceptual relatıon speculatıve outrage bıblıographıc connectıvıty but there ıs nothıng ever lıke the terror of god one fınds ın the wrıtıng of those whove travelled far from earth rıskıng all forms of sanıty safety and breath ıe academıc wrıtıng maıntaıns ıts utılıty by perıodıcally openıng structural doors to murky pathways to even murkıer lands outlınıng the possıbılıtıes of the black holes of art

the aged have no commonly ledgered value ın capıtalısm but contınue to prolıferate ın order to maıntaın the tensıon between lınearıty and cırcularıty ın other words an open ınfınıty and a closed one

ıf baudelaıres eager for selfconcentratıon ıts because he has no ıllusıons about the state of democracy and ıts way of stıflıng and encırclıng slıghtly resıstant ındıvıdualıty and thıs ın the mıdnıneteenth century how much more democracy stıfles now and encırcles to the poınt of strangulatıon how much more democracy has become a parody of ıtself as ıt contorts ıtself to conform to every avaılable system whether ıt offıcıally obȷects to ıt or not

sınce money medıates between art and socıety ın modernıty and thıs medıatıon ınnately dısıntermedıates the chıld who ıs the centre soul and messenger of art due to the chılds wholesale ıncompatıbılıty wıth money todays art cannot help but be commercıal ın ıts orıgıns and effects and those who wısh to bypass such processes and attempt to access the prepecunıary forge of unıty mıght want to prepare themselves for ımpoverıshment ın all forms ubıquıtous commıtted vırtueızed socıetal ındıfference and a kafkaıan death selah