exexilings

exile  being a state thats out of state  destates itself wherever apostates devastate estates statements

so exile becomes not about the state  but about states  or rather a play of states  of matter and dismatter

exile

ex isle      ex small island

into the vast

ex ill          ex i  ex will

a postvolitional postidentity world

ex i le       ex i definiteness

aliving in living  living in aliving

exile         elixe  elixer  elixir

soma ras of otherity

mysticism is the condition of having banished exile

what does technology do to exile other than obliterate it?

technology accomplishes from the outside what mysticism does from within

mysticism and technology meet in the annihilation of exile where in and out get confused

the one who is taken out

the one who is walked out

the one who is driven out

the one who is desoiled

so the one who is purified by going out

out from what?

out from out?

out from in

out from what

out from exile

technology is a great exiler

driving us all out

out of what?

ourselves

banished from what?

a space?

the space?

space?

but then so also banished from

a time

the time

time

exile   utopia and uchronia

spaces of nospace and notime

so exile is art  those spaces of creation where the measures of physicality are exiled so we dont have to be

the passivity of exile

one is exiled

but an equal activity is always present

i exile myself

i am exiled

what exiles me is itself exiled through my exile

for exiling  like incarceration excommunication ostracization shunning  is a collaborative exercise

and i exile the exiler with as much exiling as it has exiled me

and in this mutuality cancel the exile

by having brought us into the same nospace spaces

to be able to exile one has to believe in home as a definable place thats solidly affixed to identity

exile as a belief and attitude depends on assumptions about the chemistry of home  the chemistry of i  and the chemistry of their relations

but im an alchemist of exile and exile becomes an experiment of outings in plasmatic consciousness

how long does exile last?

if i was born in alaqaruvu and lived there for 25 years and then exile or exiled to uvuraqala for 25 years and then am returned to alaqaruvu am i then exexiled? if one were immortal could this go on forever until the ile gets lost in the exes?

isnt exile just another name for a lack of imagination?

arent tourists and the exiled euphemisms for each other? from a geological standpoint theres surely no effective difference   tourists in their geological insignificance seek simulations of exile   the language of going from this place to that place is a convenience to guise that all we do in traveling is stay in the same place of simulations of exile

i was just exiled from baghdad to bangkok and then exiled to jakarta

where are you going to exile next?

ive heard varanasis a great spot for exiling so might try that

its all the same fucking place, man

technology exiles exile but then where does exile go?

to nature which also has been exiled?

for are nature  being the space that has been despaced  and exile  being a space away from space  sibling fossils in a uchronistic paleontology?

does not technology necessarily exile exile as it redimensionalizes space and in these curvatures and negations  these increasing intimacies with the energies of zero  exile  like almost everything  becomes not a statement but a question?

my friends are virtual  my children are digital  my parents have no dimensions  my birthplace is continually reconstituting time in a kaleidoscopic vacuum of vast and collapsing vision  my home is a phantasmagoria i meet in interstices of absence

politics and staatsein are lingering memories of dreams of nature and so any solid notion of exile is destined to be romantic and nostalgic  turning now into a tomb to serve an incapacity for creation

the famed cases of writers writing their best works in exile  but this in exile  in leaving the book of statements and the library of logic and entering the book of questions and the library of babel  becomes at home

in exiled exiling i am consequently always exiling   i exile from the café to the street  from dinner to sleep  from my cat to a smoke  from sleep to coitus  from illness to health  from coffee to absinthe

it is surely no accident that exiling and exiting are almost identical

and are we not a people of perpetual exitings?

when we pay more attention to the nomhematological properties at play here the difference is between an l and a t  the first and last letters of light   light  energy of endless exitings and exilings and so enterings  movement is the exile that is our home

and why does space tyrannize over exile? for doesnt exile equally belong to time sex gender race ethnicity religion ideas food   exiles a condition of being out  or rather or also of being in other ins   i exile from carnism to veganism and in this exile find a hospitable home   exiles  as so many things  a question of adpositions   and adpositions as we know  in any language  are slippery creatures  preferring the mucks of polysemousity and ambiguity   so if exile is an adposition how can we rightly speak of it as a monist and certain thing? as a place or notplace?  i was in alaqaruvu in my home and now i am not in alaqaruvu and not in my home?  for dont alaqaruva and home go with me wherever i go and i in my goings never leave?

exile assumes some fashion of a promised land in tandem with some fashion of typically linear time

but the promise was eaten by intergalactic turds some millennia ago

and the line as we know in our hallucinations  that only competent reality  curves crosses doubles collapses

exiles living away from ones tribe  but what is ones tribe? and what is away from it? who would know these hyperlit seconds any coincidence of identity among the inner tribes and the outer? and so who would know what even away might look like? here and there?

isnt my tribe those whove exiled and been exiled into disbelievings about exiling?

the reputed disorientation of exile disappears with modernity for disorientation is the birthright of the posthuman  its nod to the only orientations being disorientations  and so exile becomes disexile and one explores not a new home  for home is always new  but home  and home is i  and is disoriented to itself

for the pataphysicist metaphysics is comprehensible but boring and archaic while physical reality is a nightmare one continually attempts to not repeat   when the pataphysicist is forced to deal with physical reality we can say its in fleeting pataexile and when it deals with metaphysics  either by accident or expediency  we can say its in fleeting demipataexile

pataphysics patachemically excretes exile through pataplays of pataphors into patadimensional farce

exile on merdre street

any human born into the present technological womb of earth lives in disreality and so has never known anything but altered states  and once states are altered  exile  a possibility of the force of the reality of the state that preaches meaningless change while clinging to comprehensive unalteration  alters in conjunction and exile becomes an extension of design   a user setting like a mulberry background in my word processor  a patch on my synth 

i am in exile because i went to exile because i felt like exile because i heard exile singing

technology transforms mind into home and state into dream and so exile into a perpetual absurdist motion machine that none of us can be exiled from

astronaut wives club

i despise history so much i dedicate my life to writing myself out of it

the desire to remove the apophatic in mysticism

is it similar to the present requirement to smile for the camera?

try to work as much as possible with words as they arent

as they might want to be if they werent so anthropocentrically confined

humans arent built to assume the amount of translation they presently have to carry

and technology  built to assume the burden  isnt keeping up

how can one be cultured if culture is broken?

when theres no commuting what does it mean to own a car

when theres no future what does it mean to own a timepiece

the pun passes into the space i think i occupy and disperses me

word has succumbed to image but it should (re)succumb to sound

no

to noise

i keep forgetting which drugs im on and this makes it difficult to know how not to decommunicate

as barbed metallic reality accumulates in ironicized meat so meat must burrow further into its molecular voids to mine imagination from the increasingly distant and collapsing veins of god

all of france in its ponderous blood and pomposity conspired toward alfred jarry and now that pataphysics has broken into the world france can leave

stay in the elements of surprise from whence you first sense the daemons creeping until they rest and this the arc of writing

the pun is everything

even god hides in the pun

society is a kind of mysticism

in its darkness and words devoid of substance
its ecstatic empty relationship with light

temple of lump in the dumpster of out

  

dingle wordsless  smoke dangling from lips of a cheilitic mind like statement jewellery  passes staltered ates and pauses

crazy hazy lazy daisys inside writing epitaphs on invisible napkins with a finger and grease on the tombstone of the table like a thick modesty on historys disfigured face

dingle doesnt blench but splatters in latrines of thinking in response to the discarding i discard and without much cytogenesis or knack enters

dingles on one of those putrescent perambulations  disutile scholar of decay  questing drools and stricken monosyllables from vermilion borders of the vatic underclass

and staltered ates is a dingles thing  temple of lump in the dumpster of out  puntee in faeried ponds of thujone hippuricacid and coppersalts and never once much ken of who the punter

daisy though in the inflorescence of its wounds eyes the lugubrious oratory as a fly in kukku eyes inanna and our digging through the veils is everlasting

to the gruntings of the scuttling clientele dingle grunts them back and grunt on grunt the grunted grow the grunters and daisy spies a dingle

two lovers senching around crypts of vocational interments  spurlos versenkt  round sebum echoes of coital muckings striking wagers of escalating grimace

but staltered atess eyed it all afore so as dingles pitched not a grunting gets misplaced and gruntings all and all thats left is the epitaph itself to push the day

i am gone

like cyanide

to read asoft

my epitaphs

i am gone

like epitaphs

to soft a sigh

and so i died

you sociality

doktor hazy dent

superruminary

who like the emperors

wears no clothes

a client shows

its name

loodz theev oqo odonata

i think

a fatapissicist

who disbelieves in rumination

but dent says

theev

i like the emperors

and rumination isnt ruminescence

even as pissing may be fate

but apis isnt fat

i hail from paraetonium oqo says

in pears we trust

and we all always cant disrobe

and none of us can never undo the clothes

we all are emperors

i need to see your lower eye the doktor says

remove your pants

inarticulate negotiations dangle in the arid air

like those deserts glimpsed in rpgs as ones passing to the pissroom

humidities of thought circulating like recycled ambience

but not as quantifiably eusocial

the lower eye sees but cant be seen odonata says unzipping

im not here for healing

but to prepare prepositions for inward outings

and hazy stares

and loodzs viviparous

and lo a pair of eyes comes forth from lower eye

and eateth doktor hazy dent

and the client

methinks

that oqo theev odonata loodz

in body not in thought

disbelieving rank in emperors

goes forth too

eyed and naked  dressed

dingle wordsless does pataparables

it lives in loss and loss is gain

not that catastrophic loss where gain is loss
but loss thats less than words

i lives in an om let

i want an omlet  a big honkin one so stuffed with cheese i turn into a gooey hypersphere that rolls around the world and flattens the forests

in the year before the year that wasnt i ventures into the smoke on a quest for eggs and finds only the remnant of unheard screams and it is there i falters  neither wanting to forage through the heaps of grains of remnants of screams nor return to its maze in the sky and there dream about quests for eggs and i totters stupidly on a lost axis of itself and if there are any other egg pilgrims sojourning nearby i cannot see them for the thick grey joke that used to be the air

the omlet as i see it in my dreams has many waving limbs and though no heads many eyes on bright tentilla that blind me with their brightness and rather than being stuffed with cheese it is with humans and i dont eat it but it me and become a waving limb and stalked eye

as granny i used to say the rancour of the medium rivals the gait of the kinkajou therefore one purloins as a vitality the guttered citation  she said it as a yolk i think but for granny the distinction between weight and mirth was as fragile as an eggshell

i wish you wouldnt keep talking about eggs

ill talk about motels then

no  motels are scrambled omlets

in the maps not on the maps i clambers mount digitalia on a quest for motels and finds only a dissolute civilization drunk on a soiled bed and it is there i flounders like a cracked soufflé  unable to comprehend the erudition of the sot and equally incapable of descending to an allegory i stares into thick hazes of itself and laughs at the incapacity of the holy and vital lands to stand against the force of meaning

i used to dream of soufflés so much i married one in vegas when i was young and stupid and wise and threw away things as if i were the sum of carnivals but my spouse was empty and too in love with emptiness i left deflated and staggered into asphyxiations of myself

as granny i used to say the ghosts of the temple fatten dreams therefore one takes as a minuend those with the fewest toys  she says it as a wight might but for granny any divide between the under and overworlds is as insubstantial as pileipelles

i wish you wouldnt keep talking about granny

ill talk about el mot then

no  el mot is scrambled granny

were hefty and abundant like pseudohyphae

who among the beasts would strike us down

the heart of the caesura enters the clavier of truth

therefore one retreats as a fudge cake to discarded attenuations

we tincillate from the claws of clouds to pereve and adam

the door to the invisible is visible

the index of the dead veils the vortex of the image

therefore one enters as a radicand kaleidoscopes of privation

thanks to mixter lezama and the uncountables

at the whims of

revolutionaries evolutionists volitionists

managers entrepreneurs novelists

scholars gods names

tyrants smiles

dearest i say this is a love story

but theres something about the bourgeoisie  the way they hold their forks for example  the way they talk about sex as if they were reciting a particularly daring passage from foucault

no one says bourgeoisie anymore  one says sane

my life is so defined by love affairs i have nothing to say about love

having been recently promoted to Assistant Senior Vice President of Affairs and Definitions at Académie du Dictionnaire Mondial my primary role is to duplicate reality to a sufficient extent so as to further impoverish it

i cannot love my own love or love myself loving or love being loved so love lives only when love lives far away

the point is what money permits is a continuously expanding clutter of apparatuses of denial which are wholly necessary to sustain participation in an indecipherable and genocidal system

im routinely dazzled by the electronic apparatus scattered around everywhere  in fact i just remarked to tractatus that she might want to consider getting some to complement those she already has

the great repose of inner deafness through imperious repetition enables us to flee the terrible rumour of absence and get to work

i become a book and eat the book and the eating is my reading

storytelling of course has ended and the cancerous growth we have in novels confessional poetry and their hideous mutant relative creative nonfiction provides incontrovertible evidence of this  the storys based on causalities that while they never existed collapsed officially over a century ago and assumes an anthropocentrism that only survives in our infantile longings along with god and romance  having said this the prolongation of cultural corpses and the cancerous growth of cancerous growth are foundation stones of our civilization  without them we dont exist

i am liquid like a book and pour myself onto death  this speaking is my silence and i am only my telling

thats different  if the coherence of ideas isnt sufficiently firm and if one scorns the coherence that could form them  a progression will remain  lacking objectivity and subjectivity  a possible devolution of the world  the telling of the speaking becoming less a story than a sensuous moment against a darkening sky in which you have a sense of being pushed forward by your own refusal to advance  i wouldnt tell anyone this though

in life there comes a time and i think it is total that we cannot escape a place of doubting everything

accommodating yourself to reality and worrying for the rest of your life is a widespread hallmark of maturity

thats not what i mean  i mean the bourgeoisie with their access to an irony with little cost to themselves in direct proportion to a muting of their imaginations but this with significant cost exist in double movements necessarily creating a violence that they then project on what is not them and this projection is called culture

as a prostitute once told me the standards of the dead are incomprehensible to the living

where we remain after the ravishing  that spark in the manner of an aperture  no one can believe or speak or tell

were more or less saying the same thing and use our hopeless gestures to join from time to time with a silent language whose outcome is incoherent and whose confrontation with history disintegrates in ephemeralities of obliteration

we have reservations at bagatelle at nine  im going to shower

PATA2020 Devanced Seminar on the No Poofessor Jejunum Q Diaper Kämūtėrdøtti̊r U Final Examination referring to the text words are round on sadoo 18.07.20 respond to the following questions. use only the text words are round and your genius. in other words – dont record your answers anywhere other than in your memory or what could be called a memory or what might have been once a memory and is now little other than a present. be prepared to discuss orally when you are called by an inquisitor. times and certainties of inquisition are unknown. you have from now until the inquisitor calls. inquisitors may call more than once and at any time and in any mode or manner 1. poke the roundness of words and poke their sphericality. how do they feel? sound? respond? how do roundness and sphericality differ apart from dimensionality, apart from words and not apart from words? is there an apart from words? define dimensionality with respect to language 2. discuss the use of diacritics in the text. are they strategic or tactical? how do readings shift if all diacritics were absent? 3. fartin die-higgër writes, alluding to sädoolin, in rounding and sphere – while the essence of essence can by no means be anything essential, the true essence who through projective slayings provokes does not say there is there is but is is there there and in this withdrawing which we call a drawing and this sending we call a timing-giving understands of itself in the itselfing of understanding an itstanding that un-its its own notselfing. object 4. scholars and lay alike have achieved nothing like consensus on the role of gender in this text or for that matter anywhere else. posit a minimum of nine possible consensuses and a maximum of eleven impossible ones 5. trace qtyx (sic) in stanza five along all its trajectories and name its interstitial hidings 6. the presence, use, and abuse of NEWs (non english words) in the text has spawned extensive speculation. subject this speculation to the levels of abuse the NEWs subject us to. how is qtyx placed in relation to the NEWs? if qtyx were a hunted critically endangered marsupial, how would it place? in a technoglobal catastrophic antiecosystem, are NEWs even possible or has the NEWs been abolished by a hyperproliferation of the NEWs? 7. the diaries of the death of the author suggest it was considering using t’ssab rather than qtyx. discuss how loop of henle changes with t’ssab. discuss the lineaments of t’ssab as they pertain to doktor henles miasmic marriage 8. the relations of galidictis fasciata and lutembi are said to be analogous to those of porete and weil. construct unreasonable wearable architectures of each party and be prepared to, in costume and on many drugs, discourse among them 9. the stüttspiff school traditionally defends a movement from – excuse the terms – nature to technology in the texts progression. cogently and professionally obliterate its defense through the available scholarly means of ridicule and defamation 10. make a langwich from the final stanza that you can anywhere carry in your underwear 11. eye m fat wah woo way and eye c u like a vasserolo nonething here comes or goeso fat wah woo woo way according to forensic literatology the above quatrain was sadoos first draft. reconstruct the intermediate steps. follow them in time, space, being, nonbeing, dip your donut in a jelly 12. falter men’bam-gin in its alcibiades abject writes of geometry entering the dream of the city and there unable now to leave confused over its shape lays itself on the bumpy mattress of human construction and confounded by too many dreams falters 13. manufacture an installation of hairy clitorides and in this hirsute happiness create post-messianic figurines that subvert one another to no ends 14. hack into the hobo superscalar alu and use your access to poemify the pentagon 15. nein and nine go way back. explicate their wayings and backings 16. clouds have never been clouds to anything not clouds and even then. entering the genius of a child speak of clouds 17. we are here like dental or candy floss and in our vacillating ironies incapable of replicating reality dive in the nothingness of your eye 18. the iams, the iamnots, the ims and not ims. write aming and pronoun 19. hack whorsey tweets were diagnosing. apply

PATA2020 Devanced Seminar on the No

Poofessor Jejunum Q Diaper

Kämūtėrdøtti̊r U

Renal Examination

referring to the text words are round on sadoo 18.07.20 respond to the following questions. use only the text words are round and your genius. in other turds – dont record your answers anywhere other than in your memory or what could be called a memory or what might have been once a memory and is now little other than a present. be prepared to discuss orally when you are called by an inquisitor. times and certainties of inquisition are unknown. you have from now until the inquisitor calls. inquisitors may call more than once and at any time and in any mode or manner

1.         poke the roundness of words and poke their sphericality. how do they feel? sound? respond? how do roundness and sphericality differ apart from dimensionality, apart from words and not apart from words? is there an apart from words? define dimensionality with respect to language

2.         discuss the use of diacritics in the text. are they strategic or tactical? how do readings shift if all diacritics were absent?

3.         fartin die-higgër writes, alluding to sädoolin, in rounding and sphere – while the essence of essence can by no means be anything essential, the true essence who through projective slayings provokes does not say there is there is but is is there there and in this withdrawing which we call a drawing and this sending we call a timing-giving understands of itself in the itselfing of understanding an itstanding that un-its its own notselfing. object

4.         scholars and lay alike have achieved nothing like consensus on the role of gender in this text or for that matter anywhere else. posit a minimum of nine possible consensuses and a maximum of eleven impossible ones

5.         trace qtyx (sic) in stanza five along all its trajectories and name its interstitial hidings

6.         the presence, use, and abuse of NEWs (non english words) in the text has spawned extensive speculation. subject this speculation to the levels of abuse the NEWs subject us to. how is qtyx placed in relation to the NEWs? if qtyx were a hunted critically endangered marsupial, how would it place? in a technoglobal catastrophic antiecosystem, are NEWs even possible or has the NEWs been abolished by a hyperproliferation of the NEWs?

7.         the diaries of the death of the author suggest it was considering using t’ssab rather than qtyx. discuss how loop of henle changes with t’ssab. discuss the lineaments of t’ssab as they pertain to doktor henles miasmic marriage

8.         the relations of galidictis fasciata and lutembi are said to be analogous to those of porete and weil. construct unreasonable wearable architectures of each party and be prepared to, in costume and on many drugs, discourse among them

9.         the stüttspiff school traditionally defends a movement from – excuse the terms – nature to technology in the texts progression. cogently and professionally obliterate its defense through the available scholarly means of ridicule and defamation

10.   make a langwich from the final stanza that you can anywhere carry in your underwear

11.   eye m fat wah woo way

and eye c u like a vasserolo

nonething here comes or goeso

fat wah woo woo way

according to forensic literatology the above quatrain was sadoos first draft. reconstruct the intermediate steps. follow them in time, space, being, nonbeing, dip your donut in a jelly

12.   falter men’bam-gin in its alcibiades abject writes of geometry entering the dream of the city and there  unable now to leave  confused over its shape  lays itself on the bumpy mattress of human construction and  confounded by too many dreams  falters

13.   manufacture an installation of hairy clitorides and in this hirsute happiness create post-messianic figurines that subvert one another to no ends

14.   hack into the hobo superscalar alu and use your access to poemify the pentagon

15.   nein and nine go way back. explicate their wayings and backings

16.   clouds have never been clouds to anything not clouds and even then. entering the genius of a child speak of clouds

17.   we are here like dental or candy floss and in our vacillating ironies incapable of replicating reality dive in the nothingness of your eye

18.   iams, iamnots, ims and notims. write notiming and pronoun

19.   among others hack whorsey tweets were diagnosing. apply

as the janati scry

unreaders have for some years been asking for clarification regarding the differences between sadoos heresiarchs doktors and poofessors   fukky risotto who handles all such correspondence has had its incoming channels clogged with confusions and being in love with indolences and yabberings and denials has left them stuffed so that nothing else can get in   but recently when fukky diaper de sistance and el clitia were hanging out on microsoft teams after they had interviewed a very fuzzy hoppy rabbit for a sex services position in the sadoo empire  i diaper decided to declog fukkys channels and plunge deeper into these troublesome ambiguities   as is well known everyone loves a good definition   fukky as usual didnt thank me but ran off with clitia and sistance for a little panky hanky in some stable of the internet leaving me alone to muck around by myself in the muds of meaning   such is the life of the generous

lets begin with sadoo neither the firstborn nor lastborn nor the middles but nullborn  a detheing and a haing  these acedious turds who ride on themselves through thoroughfares of merdre particling to buts and bars

and then we find heresiarch in ignoble cave in shadow of an absent light  gross ghosts of vatic bobble   blotted from page and age and currency  rubble of some hexadecimal  these unspokens and dedeings

doktor full of unknowledge farts its sick and healing thesicles onto seedling fields of ironed bitters for riding wolves and granny hoods to plick and fruck concoct to labile medicinals in fadas verdes and amor fata vox

last and least and in the jake poofessor flails in flies fessing scatomancies to fetid gods

sadoo  so full of full  a fluff of forth oh ad of oozing  calm like seas and winds  who moves from false confession to ataraxic debetinings not much by time  scourged by language like a cat or casting  born on teren turns and skider

heresiarch of muddy minds  contrarian contraption exflow and on not in the banks  tumescent effluent and idiot booty and scholar of scats

doktor quack and babble  off affixed physics and flicks of pettish absences and emerald worm prattling of lipophilic salves  a forensic entomologist of suprabogged and bogging souls

poofessor of privy counsel pause  for your knowledge is a dump and your erudition a midden  filigree of cries and cranings  consignee of acephalous grinnings

so sadoo has in its extraterrania lists of taxonomies of tactica of taxidermies of trommelling hyponyms and how can it speak but in dissolutions and dreams?

sadoo polishes  heresiarch dusts  doktor dirties  poofessor shits

these colleagues of mud and stepping who in their collegial lack play in lightless circuses under collapsed tents and the humans dead and the animals forgotten and the only music a necrophilic buzzing

we are encryptions of anamnestic debridements  hypoimpositions of fog and crashed backups  tribeless tribe of jibes

we have seen our disbelieved dreams and god is language and we enter god and wander endlessly in it like a strange city

among ourselves we pataphysically communicate  whenever we feel like a fight or some drama we gaze into eclipsed accounts and if there appear to be to seem a dissimulation we scan  one can hardly say read  scan for its puncta and from the puncta that is there or the puncta we make from the puncta that arent we draft like yottabytes responses in the nyms given us and set them aside and when we find ourselves in a dream of a simulation of a dissimulation of a drama responses open and again like the yottaall edit and we ask what is required to be asked when shall be transmission and we are given a time and schedule sends and so in our way we talk and these are the procedures of our communication

these are todays definings and unreaders can now rest on our proffered deconfusings and decompose themselves into poofessor or heresiarch or doktor or sadoo as the janati scry

slathered slanderings

im slandering myself she says scribbling obscenities on newborn tombstones like an uninstantiatable funambulist

to delay the laws greater slander  to establish a ruse of a misting before the ruse of a hypercane  to play a game that the game isnt a game

its just my body chattering she says your tos are toppled monuments  your afters and befores graffitied obelisks

a chatter for a chatter he says a slander for a slander  your bodys monumental and your copulas crumbling stellæ

terrified dictators roam the boils of the earth like hotspots  they wear many maskharahs of extinction and i find them in my oatmeal

create procedures for creating procedures and murmur your questions into rumours of absence

were factories of accusations  betined extravagances lacking temple or temene  blind windliners and bluffs of bluffs

declare war on all finalities and icons  lurch as a flickering beacon groping for unknown siblings in an imperious and inimical world

we are punishment and all things must enter and remain according to the degree of their guilt

contest the terrible zone of shadows and deactivate the communicative functions to open the unlimited and potentialize ecologies of impossibility

i have gone into the streets in scraps of night and unfolded the asyndesis of the ravelled city and seen dreams reversing into einbahnstraßen of unflinching consciousness

this is just literature heading toward its own disappearance like identity slipping into a technobioregions absorptive interferences

i cannot know your name nor you mine  we begin the destruction of the city in fixed and frightened forms

youre a euheremist but to achieve radical deactivation through uchronia is the i and the bite and the apple and to craft rather than explain enigmas is our silhouette against the storm and to scorn coherence the only seeking of a possible image of the world

my obliteration is providential  a cosmic attrition and categorical docility that promises only the ambiguity of phantoms  nicht mehr gefällt mir

you smell of silence and rubata and you produce styles of death as if quitting were a strength and elision some celebration of an unshakable belief in a utopia you know will never come

love is a virus and greener than absinthe i am and as i drank myself and the earthquakes rocked my firstborn land my eyes awoke and i ride a black horse and follow the river and write a beautiful book about hell

for ingeborg

the suiciding of today