the iphone – dephoning the phone – enabling
the phone to be used as everything but phone
– the inotphone … birthed into an age of inot
iness
my new novelty is boredom and i research it
with the zeal of a terrorist
death approaches like an 18th century
cartoon train, comically belching and ridiculously ominous, with smiles and
flowers and anacondas, dancing like a perfection of seraphim, saran wrap for a
face and melting acrylics for a heart
if we exclude the vulgar, the scatological,
crude, incorrect, erroneous, the vermiculous – or denigrate them as unnecessary
to or lower than the proper and orderly and clean … what have we become other
than false bearers of flesh and light, bifurcating what is united in the
brightness of our bodies, hoarding the latter for ourselves, dumping the
former on others – upholders of tyrannical virtue?
i’m sorry, you don’t belong to a field of vegetables
i can readily
communicate with
happiness becomes a hammer (for humans are
adept at transforming feathers to hammers)
twilight
of the idios (or smiling with a hammer)
if i choose between believing in myself or
the world, would i not choose myself – for the world is one but i am many
the modern search for and easy naming of
mental illness, socio- and psychopathology … is this not analogous to the
witchhunts of centuries past (a forcing of psychic diversity into institutionalized
straightjackets by those conventional) – now aided by social media and a
rabidly virtuous dominant culture which remains entrenched in laundered colonial
practices?
don’t look at words as units of meaning,
potential meaning, blocks of stories, texts. look at them as trees. forests of
breathing. words are nothing human. they find themselves exiled into the human
and the writer seeks to arrange them as it finds them into patterns of exile
far more than stories i’m interested in stories’
shapes and environments
a dinner party – gylan kain, tutuola, h
tubman, rosa parks, wangechi mutu, dennis brutus, james baldwin, don cherry, ijeoma
umebinyu
when left and right share similar forms, what does their content matter? patriarchs and feminists, trumpies and anti-trumpies, republicans and anarchists, etiologists and daoists, buddhists and capitalists, bankers and artists and academics and the justice people, conservatives and liberals – when they share methods do they not share vision?
humans like shadows are moved through oneiric worlds of insects and leaves, waiting for the light of earth which they in their darkness reflect
money
as modern sacred draws darkness into the world and this drawing – uniting as it
does the darknesses of the visible world – we declare light
kashf
a day opens on 70000 veils of light and
darkness
words open to
themselves like dreams
prayers appear like a loose group of dead to
no avail
living in these
openings as a calling from unknown spaces
who would dance? i i say – i will dance to
uncanny failures
words (like us) aren’t singular and
delineated
i’ll rip i say in peace to pieces those litted torments
living – these
openings and callings?
it opens. and crossed accustomed eyes watch
you tear the border
words and we – plasmatic fleshings, fractal
exuberance
i speak to the desolations in languages of electronic
flight
we do what is not ours to do to do the
not-doing that is our required doing
