“The Anxiety of Resurrecting: My Meager Plans for Astonishment”
“And the Voice like a Salutatory Fretsaw”
“Riddled in
my Under-Studies assrings”
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What Defines Anxiety is a Retard Reflection of what is Against Progression; and Tradition always Sees
what it thought, Impossibly Surrounding
its Structure, was but of Subjectified
Blame.
An Image of Lovers Cast from the Hand’s Aperture and splunked all over the Interior Blistering Mirror of Contemplation.
((Perhaps, my
Body Was only Based on the Construction of Being-Stuck-Altogether,
and Irrevocably, So))
Placed before my Face
is a Sad-Sack City, Swallowing the
Private awe and the Paradox, of a Home: a Construction, a Steal, the Terminal.
(o)-------------------àFitted into this Subject, is a Question of how an
Object lōōngsß-------------------(o)
“Ipsing the
Lisp of the Ellipses…”
Violence Arises from
the Snapshot of all the Ways I Came, (or) I Suppose, were Always (in) the Sameß----------------------------------------------------------------------------------àMeaning: from the Heat out
and I, Ablōve
a doom: following the Outline of a Haphazard
Line from the Apartment to the Train. She Said: “I Gave Away my Last Goodbye” i.e. Body met riot Badly. I Maneuver, in a Slip, under the Morning
Sunlight, and in that Moment, something Sinister, Smiles into Me: a Terrain, of
a Map, a Texture, and the Husky-Voice
of Sade i.e. Oddly, a Bleu-Celeste still Awaits us all, at
some Boundary, some Curve in the Path, or the Pull of an Arm where I will Meet her Lips. Aye,
but the Head-First Slide is Rarely
used these Days. Waiting atop the EL
Tracks, I watch a Pigeon Pecking and Struggling to Eat whatever-it-is in that Plastic Bag, and its alright Little-Birdie,
for I too Eat-of-Loss, and Eat-My-Feelings like a Pimple-Faced-Fat-Boy and Eat because She
Loves Me. And its my Pulse Now, in the Fray, in the blu-Bashed
as an Act Pummeled by Morning
Light.
Aye, So this Was just Pissing in My Ass, all along
in other words:--------------------àA Fist, A
Direction, Misaddressing the Whole
Movement: an Accident, Hovering and Stalking the Slip, to take hold, a
Possession, and the Situation
“To Incohere, is to Build to Desire”ß-----------------------------------------------
-------------------à“Felt like a Light Ma-Mum-Um”
And Our Relationship, then, is Anemic i.e. The Cold-Prostheses of an Epiphany
in other words:--------------------àErected
Eyes and the Real Chicago that I Slay-In
“The
Body was Skedaddled into a Concrete
Compound, like hoffa, like an
Obstructed Dawn, like Cabrini Green.”
Whatever that Means (…)
Begins
to Move, Moves inside Feces, inside an Ass Squeezing out the Great Unknown.
(i.e.)
Inside, and therefore,
Outside of the City, a Fist Expanded, which, However Small, was Nevertheless,
Equivalent to the Desire without. The
Desire, was therefore, outside of the City, but inside of the City too, as it
was inside of this, and thus, Inside the Fist.
By Splitting the Figure, into so many Gestures, that the Figure could no
longer be Contained, He Allowed the
innermost Desire, i.e. ‘the Desire of the Heart’s Vastita’ to Annunciate with
the City’s Desire, the Impenetrable Desire
of the World: which always, Appears, as a Fist.
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