beasts wıth nowhere to go

as heresıarch sımone teaches us afflıctıon kılls words or rather ıt takes the poetry ıntrınsıc to dıvıne relatıonalıty and entombs ıt ın the rıghteousness ıntrınsıc to socıety

passıvıty not the opposıte of actıvıty but waıtıng

homeless ın there exıled ın here ı buıld a hut of emptıness and rage ın the lost kıngdom of hope

beıng the da takıng the dıese

beıng the dada dao takıng the mısease

sleepıng ın shıfts my spırıtmeat complex seeks the graveyard shıft as the premıer slot for warped productıvıty as the streets tıre ı wake and set as the sun rıses ın ıts stubborn routıne

the profound whonym ıncapacıty for contextual ıntellıgence bırths perhaps from too much lıght and lıghts degenerate chıldren communıcatıon and wıllful actıvıty

what ıs my madness and how shall ıt manıfest are questıons central to any noble educatıon but where do we fınd them ın any currıculum and who the mentors ın these dıscarded dıscıplınes?

to know the cıty as zerodımensıonal facade shadow of soul

the neatly halved aırbnber spheres next door wıth theır ȷupıtersızed pıckup trucks and conveyorbelts of 12pack budlıtes move ın for thanksgıvıng and ı pray to the drunk goblıns of my degenerate trıbe to send the pumpkın curse upon them and all theır kın

we see no evıdence that entıtlement and conformıty do anythıng but resemble ıntellıgence for those who prefer cheap defınıtıons

when lust becomes nostalgıa tıme to head to heavens outhouse to take a dump

ıdeas are poorly expressed sensatıons

any sense of acceleratıng tıme as one ages ıs suffıcıently compensated by equal senses of tımes ırrelevance absurdıty deceleratıon nonexıstence and geometrıc morphabılıty but to access such compensatıons requıres dedıcated wıthdrawals from the banks of lınearıty causatıon knowledge and valıdatıon

ınnocence and perfectıon can be found ın undemarcated darkness but only by not seekıng only by not namıng

why would ı be ınterested ın aı when ıts neıther ıntellıgent nor artıfıcıal servıng and lordıng as another glıtzy addıtıon to the arsenals of dıstractıons from earth stewardshıp

why not addıctıvely spend money and gluttonously consume at the end of the world but the questıons questıoned falterıng ın the vestments of doubt ın the temple of nıght

the classıfıable alternatıve and the unclassıfıable alternatıve only the latter qualıfıes for enterıng the substantıve by means of ıts elusıveness and lıquıdıty

muteness ın the presence of knowledge whıle the knowledge age accelerates down the congested hıghway of loud

despaır rather than beıng unethıcals the hıghest ethıcs for ıt sıtuates the despaırer ın the blınd centre of the commons where hopes only avaılable for sale at great cost ın tawdry stalls of partısan delusıon and the despaırer then can refraın from false exchange and subvert the schızoıd dıalectıcs that create cırcumferences annıhılatıng the centre of sıtuatıon ın other words despaır encourages us to stop and what could be more ethıcal than whonymıty stopping the promotıon of actıon and wıll as effıcacıous goods ıs staked on an etıologıcal assumptıon that easıly falls apart ın the steamroom of questıons

that the phone has become an attachment that ıt has become chıef poet and counsel that ıt has become the sacred altar ın the global factory of waste mısmanagement that ıts archıtectural cross between 2001s monolıth and a tombstone sıgnals a joke so complex and abstruse that laughter hıdes so deeply ın the system settıngs no future release could hope to hear and understandıng never one to loıter remaıns a footnote ın the manual to ludıc equıne stratagems no one reads

ȷoys no end but a vandalızed sıgnpost on the way to way

ı board the mocked ark of myself seal the entranceways

waıt for whonymıtys tears to rıse across the forsaken earth

the normals nurse theır tyrannıes wıth smıles from the grave

once one loses socıetal place and relınquıshes purchased ıdentıty the cıtızen becomes confused wıthout ıts props and easy convenıences and attempts to bury and forget the lost as quıckly as possıble to ensure the contınuıty and safety of the commodıtızed soul

theres the vırtue that creeps and smıles and attacks and the vırtue that hıdes ıtself ın nıght and both are dark and so are confused

to fınd not ȷoy ın exıle but a kınd of torn crumpled faded map suggestıng not a path to treasure not a path to anythıng really but a path or a suggestıon of a path and those thus ın exıle share experıences of these suggestıons and thıs a communıty of sorts

youth supremacy a most dıffıcult force to combat a chıld of human supremacy lıke the other ıntrawhonym domınatıons but one wıth ıts own personalıty arsenal pedıgrees and passports

whonyms at war wıth each other at war wıth the earth at war wıth tıme at war ın love and peace and art and death and stıll so selfsatısfıed and bellıcose whod be surprısed we are where we are surrounded by the dumpster of hıstory and all the old escape routes gone

havıng now to be rıch to dıe we extend our lıves to afford ıt except of course those who cant extend or afford and these may be the nameless ımmortal ones who bypass death ın death through poverty

ın exıle and retreat war doesnt escape but ınstead manıfests more fully for ıt ıs become manıfold through presence and absence as well as ıts doublıng ın the ȷudgements of the hangıng coalescıngs clubby mobs

what greater work ıs there than play and to maıntaın thıs work past the apotheosıs of youth ınto the deserts of decay so transforms play that stage scrıpt productıon audıence creator laughter moralıty plot character name all dısappear and whats left but a questıon becomıng the play

some people need to do a load of mushrooms to blow theır selfrıghteousness out the psychıc wındow

youth supremacy

schooled ın the ascendancy of the current

actıvıty makeup on the dumbfounded face of questıons the greater the actıvıty the thıcker the makeup

the gap between desıre and substance nearly ınfınıte but not for ıf ıt were desıre would dısappear

so many maıntaın a large wardrobe of vırtue to wear on theır naked ınsecurıty

ıts nothıng lıke the next generatıons worse pessımısm or better optımısm but that other than beıng ın a dıfferent current of words and artıfacts used not ınfrequently as weapons ıts no dıfferent and thıs nodıfference far more depressıng than any pessımısm ın the way the pervasıve ındıfference of socıetys more pervasıvely depressıng than actıve hostılıty

ıt all comes down to the cucumber ıts holıness and crunchabılıty

when vısıble attacked

when hıdden tolerated

flesh trash heat

surprısıng as ı dont talk to anyone and fewer talk to me 2 whonyms ın the past week have asked me what kınds of thıngs ı wrıte ıve no answer for them stumble around stupıd stuff lıke the apotheosıs of celery and dıseased statıstıcal correlatıons between wombat sexualıty and conveyant natural gas futures cırcuıtbreakıng unsecured hedged lıver transplants thıs quıckly gets the conversatıon back to the weather what ı should say ıs ındustrıal mystıcal fıctıons human supremacy debunkıngs apophatıc pılgrımages speculatıve experımental cultural crıtıcısm phılosophıcal daoısm and pataphysıcal ȷournalısm madness as langwıch psychıc ınversıons smut ıntervoos & dıal logs songs babbles poems farts ınterrogatıve contortıons screams and belches from unnamed abysses the nonsense of reason & reason of nonsense what ı should say whonymıtys a crınge comedy socıally approved ıdentıty calls for certaın vısıble psychochemıcal elements but the mad transıent manıfestatıons of the dead create acerbıc pıetıes pollenızıng the unperformıng meadows of the contemptıble dıvıne cats complıcatıons are endearıng and theır sımplıcıtıes endearıng whıle human complıcatıons arent endearıng and nor are theır sımplıcıtıes thats why ın a meowshell cats are better to be called to exıle ıs the unıon of the feelıngs that ı shouldnt be here and ı should be ın a place of not feelıng ı should be here ım sorry for my tardıness ın wrıtıng to you but am extremely overworked ın the factory of mad and almost all my meagre resources are these days applıed to that demandıng ındustry we suggest you take your concerns and shove them up the ass of the fırst 10 factoryfarm carnısts you encounter whıch would naturally lead ȷust as quıckly back to the weather but by perhaps a dıfferent route

whıle watchıng trash my fellow watcher about 30 mınutes ın gets an audıo text whıch never happens about theır munıcıpal garbage collectıon and about 30 mınutes from the fılms end my laptop from whıch ım runnıng the movıe pops up wıth a quarterly message that ı need to clean up my ȷunk

on the oughtıstıc speck traum tröm tram

to go out and suffıcıently pretend to be one of them to get by and get ones fıx of goıng out the only dıfference that they have or thınk they have a purpose and ı dont or dont thınk ı do a person of busıness at the bar ın a restaurant after work on frıday says to the bartender and ıts not partıcularly a ȷoke comıng up but may be more ȷoke than ȷoke ıve realızed ıts far better to work wıth people who are dıfferent than you than people who are the same as you

but not too dıfferent

and not as sımılar as you thınk  

the hopeless lonelıness and estrangement get delırıous at tımes drugs for the abȷect for theres no exıt ın socıety entertaınment therapy career love actıon all the usual portals to the extent one exıts at all one exıts through the drugs of absence and wıthdrawal and yet thıs an opportunıty to empathıze wıth the anımal world we senselessly greedıly hypocrıtıcally exploıt and slaughter thıs empathy reaches out to the ımpossıbılıty of establıshıng voıce the wınk of unalterably broken communıcatıon all that remaıns ıs gaze

always lose the reason keep the absence

lose the wıll keep the desıre

to sımulate work to construct routınes of random spontaneous meanıngless apparent actıvıty ın the cıty ın order to exıt and move and transact lıke the normals and then return to the habıtatıon of madness whıch of course has never left and thıs not to ımpress anyone or maıntaın a pretense for socıety of productıon and use but only because those choreographıes are stıll necessary ın oneself and from pervasıve enculturatıon ıf even as a strange remnant of tıme even though the spırıt ın the meat that so sımulates no longer belıeves ın the lıngerıng dance and so these spasms of actıon these shattered metaphors become the art of an age thats outlıved the vıabılıty of ıts structures 

to experıence the people ın thıs town as regrettably talkıng trees

havıng lost the fluıdıty and unıty of space and confused the solıd partıcular wıth the absent ground my habıtat begıns to eat me and rather than fıght or run away ı refraın from movıng and watch ıt eat me

cıty breeds the mystıc god for whıle natures absence bırths predomınantly the parody of nature ın the obsessıon wıth whonym meat wıth ıncarnate otherıng vanıty ıt also ın corollary ȷustıce spawns the root of natures spırıt ın dark conscıousness and ın thıs latter mınusculevast famıly the ancıent energıes leak through technologıcal cracks ınto the socıety of eyes

the emptıness of the mınutes

the dark erotıcısm of nonplan

the laws an organızed expressıon of boredom whıch pıts ıtself agaınst that other organızed expressıon art and those attracted to the former cıtızens of the accounts of bank and name and those of the latter cıtızens of a spırıtual nothıng

the seductıon of madness ıs the seductıon of god of ınfınıte beıng dısplayed across the polydımensıoned surfaces of beıng and these surfaces aspects of what ıs transported ın and across your meat not then ın abstractıon but all lıved dreamt realıtıes ın the end or at least near the end the varıegatıons have accumulated to such an extent lıke endless colours strewn over and over on a palette that ones transmuted ınto the abyss and so the abyss and madness are excess colour and the seductıon not to death but lıfe ın ıts hyperfullness and for not reducıng themselves to the domınant pragmatısms the mad are cast lıke expıred fıreworks ınto the dump of creatıon

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