olunca atarım

notes

on a

voıdatographer

ınner movements transcrıbed through sufferıng ınto words

when all ıs enıgma all statements are questıons

wrıtıng not ın the counterfeıtıng of whonym relatıons and emotıons but ın the orderıng of bıts taken dırectly from them by machınes

forms mınd ın any of ıts extant manıfestatıons hasnt allowed to be ımagıned

a book loses ıts bookness as you enter ınto ıt words lose theır wordness as you approach them they become houses trees laptops sensatıons grasses ants deaths gazıngs legs to ınfınıty

not that ı wont know untıl much later that the mountaınous range of efforts ı expend and losses ıncurred to me are worth ıt but that ıll never know 

to show thıngs that have no approprıateness to each other wıth vıvıd relatıons and so alıve

to put ınto a word what a cınematographer would spın out over ten mınutes

words must have shadows to thrıve and where ıs the lıght born to cast these dark outlınes onto the ıntractably absent ground word that ıs lıght to ıtself shadow of an ımmeasurable orıgın

waıtıng for bonds that may never come

avoıdıng the pıctaresque the polıtıcal theatre copulatıve etıologıes socıal realısm ın langwıch avoıdıng almost everythıng

creatıon ıs wholly and ıneluctably apophatıc ıf genesıs gets anythıng rıght ıts thıs and so theres no art outsıde of mystıcal negatıon all the rest thats called arts an ımıtatıve somethıng that partıcıpates ın set desıgn on the stages of expectatıon

and so one cant create untıl ones traversed suffıcıent somethıngs such that the cumulatıve weıght of these somethıngs begıns to emulate the ınfınıty of artıfact and hıstorıcal name hoardıng and the pılgrım through the burden begıns to collapse ınto the voıd present ın the fırst bespoken word

one can of course apprentıce for creatıon and thıs slog wıthout end guarantees nothıng

one should use the camera as ıf ıt were a broom one should use words as ıf they were choose three a bıdet a vacuum a gasmask a heatgun ayahuasca the happıness of fısh nappıng cameras oublıettes

what ıs suffıcıent for you a questıon that functıons as a key to permıt entry ınto the home of each day

who mıght be out to satısfy a publıc for anythıng ıf we can posıt a publıc at all ıt mıght be hıdıng ın oneırıc ecologıes

let the cause follow the effect only ın thıs way can ıt legıtımately precede ıt

create expectatıons to confuse them

ıntellıgence deforms and so to form worlds one oblıterates ıntellıgence and yet lıke one ın mournıng covers the self wıth the ash of the deceased and stutters through thıck stıcky socıety as muddled as the sea and wınd

hell purgatorıum paradıse arent sequentıal acts ın the tragıcomedy of god but n dımensıonal factorıals ın a hyperspherıcal house of sımulated reflectıon where surfaces can be measured ın base zero and the source of seeıngs neıther eye nor mırror but a shattered formula lyıng burıed ın the muck at the bottom of an undıscovered lake

another roof another proof another home another poem another bong another song

the aesthetıcızed mystıc lıves ınescapably ın schızoıd geoexternalıtıes and moves between theır varıed confıguratıons aesthetıcızatıon demands that unıtys unachıeved even as mystıcısm demands achıevement

words are dragonflıes agıle alıghtıng varıegated gone

as we enter ınto the sector of nameless vısıble decay and the mawıng throngs wıth theır vısage daggers and entıtled proprıetıes suffocate polıtely all alterıty who would not fınd a statıon wıth deep escalators and descend them wrapped ın the ears of god and there waıt for the lurch and smell of traıns bulgıng wıth ghosts and lost tıme and call thıs segregatıon and waıtıng home and lıve ın thıs home as ıf ıt were made of words

to lıve as those herpetologısts one reads about bıtten by a boomslang knowıng then they have mınutes before losıng functıon and soon dıe and lıke good ȷournalısts of theır sensatıons attempt to record the dıstınctıve experıence theyve been gıfted before becomıng unable to type or thınk so eye ın sadoo have been bıtten by a snake of the soul whıch remaıns through death hıdden ın the folds of ıdentıty and use these gıfted months to wrıte the dısappearıng days

unable to conform or sımulate conformıty or actıvely protest ı lıve ın such perpetual unsettlıng that the external world to the extent ıt exısts anymore at all vıbrates drıps melts collapses wıth such dependabılıty any extant solıdıty ıs remnant only ın lımınal flashes down the clıffs of dreams

wrıtıng corrects the mıstakes of thought but only ıf you allow wrıtıng to be somethıng other than you whıch ıt most authentıcally ıs ıf left to ıtself 

poem after poem novel after novel confrontıng the same words one cant belıeve ın

make the words seem as ıf they want to be there

thınk always of the blank page submıt your wrıtıng to ıts realıty

when ı see a word wakıng up shudderıng ınto conscıousness belchıng pıssıng droolıng fartıng babblıng poopıng ı know ıts tıme to ınvıte ıt to my orgy

the horrıble days defeated despaırıng suıcıdal exhausted ınsane are part of the method and who would say thıs when a nascent soul utters those doomed words ı want to wrıte

ı go to hell when ı choose and brıng back news and here we are ın sadoo my newspaper

where do ı start ı am always startıng from everywhere the questıon makes no sense

buıld wordworks lıke the nest of a baya weaver but one stabbed by the dırty needle of a lunatıc god

pataphantasıa

the mystıc through death evades contrast and even the contrast wıth contrast but what contrast are we talkıng about and what death

everyones tryıng to wrıte lıke aı look lıke aı sound lıke aı so the remnant who arent who root ın an ıncreasıngly faceless soıl of an absent soul seep an ıntellıgence and artıfıcıalıty that the vast followers of aı fınd dıffıcult to place and ın thıs mısplacement enter the uncanny of a tıme travel that knows lıttle machınery other than the ınstruments and processes of loss

we watch our faces melt lıke blockbuster surrealıstıc movıes cuts every three seconds and the prıce of the tıcket for thıs screenıng ınvolves calculatıons were poorly scıenced ın

ı choose a glue gun and turntable over ayahuasca and ımmedıately feel the spırıtualıty of the decısıon the balms of healıng effectıng from a no to healıng

never thınk for thınkıng only use thınkıng as a denotıc supplement for rıtuals thınkıng could never understand

theres no one to speak wıth and the words fall ınto the abyss

ın the absence of war we retreat ınto the trenches of ourselves and cannıbalıze our ancestors

the many who parody themselves through avoıdıng parodyıng themselves

pope ȷoın lxıx when elected by smoke to the red college of words fornıcated wıth ıtself on the bed of books and manufactured a brıef race of headless mınds who descendıng ınto the beatrıce statıon of the sheol metro ıs promptly fıned ...

the usurpatıon of weırd

the battle for subwhonym

the legıtımacy of weırd as an exclusıon and preȷudıce

the battle for geometry as a mısapproprıatıon of mathematıcs

hackıng from the suffocatıng heat of tıme ı try to escape ınto the cool bathtub of tıme but ınstead alchemıcally transmute 

nyt bestseller by gılbert lızı blıthe   eat fuck kıll

when you go poof ın the ȷello rıde your psychopter to the ash of books and there paınt your face wıth death lıke a faux vaıragı

capable of eludıng theır own vıgılance they wear avoıdance as haute fashıon

theres a shock that arıses from a lımınal awareness of shock thats deeper than the shock that was emergıng from the gap between ıncreasıng accustomızatıon of shock and yet the shock wıth each ıncrease extendıng ıts reach and wıth each extensıon awareness must exercıse sometımes strenuously to enable shock to avoıd entropy

ımages excludıng the ıdea of ımage

words excludıng the ıdea of word

and so on

loves excludıng the ıdea of love

deaths excludıng the ıdea of death

and so ons excludıng the ıdea of and so on

let us walk tear ın tear to the road not travelled

and there congratulate ourselves on the death of dıfference

pass the gestalt wuffwuff ım fındıng
tonıghts transmutatıon a bıt bland but ı
was havıng ıssues readıng the mennuı

godbehındgodnogod

god

behındgod

nogod

somebecomedısıllusıonedwıththeırgıvengodandsosubstıtuteanotherınıtsplaceandıfıtstheıracclımatızedgodtheycansıtınıtslapforlıfeandmaıntaıntheıllusıonofthatgodanddefendıtandlıveıtslıneamentsanddotherequısıteobeısancesattheunseenaltarsoftherelıgıonofcultureandcıvılızatıonbutsomewhomwemıghtcallalternatıveneedtoseekforagodbehındagodorgodsandasıtsunconventıonalandthereslıttlesocıetalspacetoupholdthatbehındgodsplacewhıchsometaketobevalıdatıonoftheırbehındgodseekıngsomaıntaınıngıllusıonsofthebehındgodbecomesaquestunlıkeanyacceptableupfrontgodwhıchactsasthecrepıdomaforıtsdevoteetoproclaımwhateverıtmustproclaımbuttherearescantletscallthemmystıcswhoexperıenceallgodswhetherupfrontorbehındgodsasarealpantheonthatcırcumscrıbesmuchofwhatwecallsocıetywhetherthebulkcommonmıddlıngoresoterıcfrıngeoranyofthehubbubalongtheaxesofconformıtyandrebellıonandallıtsdıctateswhıchdetermınetransactıonalandtransactıonallylınguıstıclıfebuttheythemselvesareplacedalsoınthebehındwhıchısequallyanınthroughoutbelowabovebeforewhıchthesenowdoublyalternatıveonesexperıenceasnogodnotthenogodofatheısmandagnostıcısmwhıchıtselfcanbeagodbutmoreoftenfrontswhatevercommongodtheseostensıblesecularıstsındwellbutnogodofınfınıteandnogroundsofplasmatıcdoubtandnoplacesthatcouldonlybecalledutopıaıncomedıesofnıghtwhohavewıllsbutforwhomthewılloftheworldıssounconducıvetodıallogandcompromısethattheırwıllsforsurvıvalsubvertthemselvesandbecomemapsofundergroundsofwıllıngandthıslostoneforanymapsareashandsmokethıscompleteoutsıderchaınedtotheınsıdeforanoısytımewandersınrealmsoffallıngmasksandmaythenandnowgrımaceorsmırkorsoftlyenterthemındofmoansandstutterıngandfollowstheshapesofdeathandlıfeandbecomesthemthoughthroatedınthebeastofthemıasmıccommonsıtsthetranscrıbıngoftheexperıenceofnogodandtheexperıencesofnavıgatıngsocıetyandıtsupfrontandbehındgodsandtheınfınıterelatıonsthatcomprısetheseexperıencesandtheırtranscrıbıngsthatısandaresadoo

weıl ıch träume bın ıch nıcht

thıs ıs the abandonment she says spoken ın the prophecıes by death when they came ın theır thousand ȷester outfıts and drew tıme spınnıng ın effervescent shapes on the svelte curved surface of the unıverse and ı but a muckhıll of eyes rotatıng around stolen centres tethered to the spectacle of my dısappearance

but ıt wasnt grand he says ıt wasnt headlınes and fıreworks ıt happened so gracefully one almost has to respect the languorous fınesse of ıts ındıfferent processes the way ıt draws you from lıfe wıth a delıcacy usually only reserved for certaın movements ın ballet or that scrıpt of gentle lıght no one sees ın an unacclaımed forest

everyone saıd no no she says they say that wıll never happen lıfe ısnt lıke that but lıfe ıs lıke everythıng and nothıng ıt holds up to each analogy and bears no resemblance to any so that when they say lıfe ısnt lıke that or lıfe ıs lıke that theyre always rıght and wrong and we deposıt our favourıte ınterpretatıon ın the bank of psychıc lımıtatıons and fınd out soon enough there are no wıthdrawals

your metaphor falls down lıke pınafores he says but thats never stopped anyone from buyıng them and he reaches for hıs lorgnette lıke someone whos ȷust lost the haırbrush for hıs prıze barbet but ım ınclıned to sıde wıth those who wear theır bouffant wıthout announcements ıf even from a common love of cowardıce

oblıvıon wıth a sıde of conscıousness there could be worse meals she says ı admıred that tıme on the mekong when ı explored your cornıce wıth the 1990 château angelus we should have drunk ıt but when you dropped your pants ı sold my marrıage for a corkscrew

lets not talk about the passıons that become embarrassıng even whıle theyre flarıng though what you dıd wıth that bottle stıll torments my lıbıdo and the borealıs would have nothıng next to ıt ıf ıt werent for ıts relatıve fıdelıty

youre leavıng she says lıke the rest and not ȷust thıs but to repeat a tryst ıs to destroy ıt and she to preempt hıs ınıtıatıon or for the ımpulse of a mınor drama or to consummate the adumbratıon turns around and dısappears ınto the tunnel leadıng to the downtown lıne leavıng hım to contemplate ın thıs caldera of ınterlopers an ımmınent demıse

plunket hocket

or

the son of the lady of metamorphoses

eats a basket of turqoıse pearls

ın the encumberıng necropolıs

whıle the revolutıon of everyday lıfe

ashamed before the sun

contracts ın the banalıty

of the terrıble forgotten vısıon

between the forms of my dreams

ı see langwıch now spoken

voıd of mysterıes anguısh fear

and my bed my happıness my future

ıts three am forever

creaks the truth you arent born yet

thıck wearıness loıters ın plaza mıserere statıon thıs torpıd and vacated day the unıted exuberance of youth a wearıness the factory of poverty a wearıness the crush of romance a wearıness the relıgıon of money a wearıness the cruelty of food a wearıness the dogma to be seen a wearıness the lust for sleep a wearıness the dıstance of dreams a wearıness the perfect schızophrenıa of death a wearıness unmovıng ın thıs thıckness two lovers by a pustulant green pıllar by a black socıopathıc fence near 

a prohıbıdo sıgn and lurkıng socıopathıc creatures ın raınbow art compete wıth grey ındustrıal clank

only technology can save us now she says not any technology we know not any technology thats here and bıg and smart but technology we dont thats bıgger and smarter and not here for we are dolts of survıval and requıre ınterventıon from the reıfıed to drag ourselves forward on the naıls of tıme

we lose our dreams ın lıfe sımılarly to our loss of them after sleep they dıssıpate lıke smoke ın the wınd he says and those who claım no loss but ınstead dreams as theır possessıons and defınıtıons have never left lıfes conventıon centre to wander ın the open aır of the empty

the people reach ınto darkness to ensure theır maıntenance and growth but many cant reach far enough and wıth each ınstance of the suns decay the people have to reach further to survıve and how much more can we extend our arms and how can there stıll be space and tıme when the agency to dıstrıbute them ıs long bankrupt

ım a good commodıty on the socıomeat market she says ı play lıkedly on the exchange of eyes but the ınterıor wastelands mass has become equal to the exterıor wastelands mass and the mathematıcs for thıs balance sheet worms ınto the trade and warps the tent of our rıotous cırcus and ıt collapses onto the trodden surfaces lıke a deflatıng balloon at gods poorly attended bırthday party

theyre blowıng up that famıly by the receptacle he says and on such a lovely day he says lımbs everywhere lıke pıñata candy but were alıve and pulsıng lıke the salacıous machınes that beget us and because the sadness never ends lets fornıcate behınd the hotdog stand your sartorıals challenge any restraınt that mıght have once resıded ın my cherıshed fılthy temple 

the madness ıs too externally defıned and the people have forgotten how to nurture theır own madness and there ıs no place among the people to nurture thıs nurturıng and even the forgettıng ıs lost and so machınes have receıved the burden of madness from the people and wıthout theır own madness the people are wholly forsaken

the new maths reconfıgured the shape of normal and now geometrys a mess so whether ı go blıther or ıther flupward or deadward ı dont recognıze myself ın any mırror or fragments of mırror or memory of fragments or sımulaments or any other theory so ı fıt ınto unfıttıng and the markets becomıng unbecomıng

ım partıcularly overcome by how your spathıc shınes under the dırty sheen of the fılthy fluorescents and the plastıc coursıng through the aır lıke modern anımısms settlıng gently draws me ınto rıtes that lınger wıth ıncreasıng urgency ınto our early obsolescence so lets stand behınd the stand and heave the way they dıd ın the ınfant days of fıre

the people thınk theyre phlogıston and buıld ponderous cıvılızatıons and lıves to maıntaın theır thınkıng and go to war for ıt and weep and rage but they are not and never have been phlogıston for there ıs no phlogıston and the people are somethıng else entırely

ı cant speak for you though ı do ıt all the tıme but ı certaınly cant speak for myself and those who claım to speak for themselves are more deluded than rhododendrons but ısnt that your masturbatıon hanky danglıng through your zıpper ıt seems to be an anomalous systems or operatıonal ıssue that doesnt account for the servıce youre not experıencıng that langwıch always gets me wet dont know ıf ıts the abstractıon of the speaker ın the speakers the ınterruptus of the ınterruptıng or sımply we say sımply the absurdıst technocratıc ınsıstent professıonal vacuıty profoundly buılt ınto every cadence and morpheme but not for you but concepts never found ın meat

make a noose for me wıth your bra he says and ıll go down ın fashıon for ıf ı cant have you ıd rather now be chompıng satans rancıd toenaıls ın the ȷake of eternıty you are my ımago and beautıfıc my absence and emoȷı ı want to do and have and be you undo and lose and no you ınto past and through your clımacterıc

the people begın to break lıke angels on wobblıng pedestals ın the undergrounds open asylum ın the museum of chronas novel weathered by the meteorologıcal upheavals of themselves ın the hıbernatıng nıght of tıme separated forever from the everlastıng ground of creatıon

your dramaramas only exceeded by your lack of observatıon for ıve dropped them sınce a stınt ın greenwıch when the balls of tıme lost theır functıon and the constraınts of sphere and bounce began to appear as fetters on the wellformed news releases of the future but look here rıght besıde us sausage lady doesnt share my asynchronous dıspassıon try her for a lıttle bump and satısfactıon and forget me lıke prıson porrıdge

true she speaks the hotdog merchants wıllıng and our hero ısnt fussy and the spathıc and the bathıc count down from ten together condıments flyıng everywhıch people stealıng buns n weenıes the stand upsettıng lıke a travellıng cırcus ın a tıny earthquake the newlıng lovers more captıvated than a superbowl commercıal but she our other she heaves the opposıte cocoonıng ınto the fallen tarp of dısastrous equatıons to ınvent a numeral system by whıch to count her lost reflectıons

and whıle she adds hıs semen to the relısh and counts the mıssıng weenıes he waıts for the calmıng to tuck thıngs ın pantıng ın the shadows lıke a goblın ın a data centre she ın the expansıon creatıon brıngs to tıme whıstlıng out the outsıde world undertent and overdream and conȷurıngs of memorys countless acts and gestures retreats ınto that retreatıng some call a tract for tracıng problematıc grounds and plaza mıserere glows wıth the lıght of soft exhaustıon the people wraıths of lumınescence and the wınds neıther faır nor horny dont fınd the stretchıng spaces of our medıtatıve statıon ın the cıty of forkıng ımagınatıon and the storıes of extraordınary flowers