Thursday, January 31, 2013

15 FOOTNOTES TO A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE PROCESS WHICH PARALYZED ME


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(1) Feeling the Arc of Glory before the Descending raw

(2) This is a Nail: -a level (-err) Reversing, the Background (is) of a Memory, a Motion, in itself, Hammering down a Judgment on a Body, without Prejudice

(3) We were Having such a Time, in the Bright Lights, in the Big City, in the Gesture to Absolve this Being-Alone

(4) And the Ensuing Reversal of the Position as such

(5) When at Dawn, the Fist Might Carry off at the Hinge any Objection, when all this Face-Weary World Lays Beaten

(6) My Anxiety needs a Point to Rupture a Departure for a Description of its Current Mode of Production

(7) And this Gesture Begs for Penetration

(8) Now, Suppose I Were to Construct a Deception to Interfere with the Sincerity of this City

(9) My Desire is never Accurate

(10) To Know that you are Alive while I am Writing this

(11) That is a Notion too Cruel for this Formal Gesture of Love

(12) Being Beaten-Down was Never intended for this Twist in the Plot

(13) It is Almost an Unbearable Pleasure to Expend all my Energy with you, in the Sheets, before the Break of Morning

(14) Understand:---------------àthis, by No Means, Implies, that I Intend to fucking Break Myself Open for You

(15) Finality, Paralyzes, in Any Form, whatever that Process had Hoped to Be


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Wednesday, January 30, 2013

15 FOOTNOTES TO A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE DISTANCE COVERED IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY



(1) It is Said: only Violence is Viscerally in the Clear

(2) Indeed: My Desire is something like this

(3) It was the Body’s Failed Posture that this Picture of an Anchor-Pull I Conjūred

(4) And in the Drudge toward Home, The Little Mocking-Bird listens Carefully to the Prevailing Voice in the Heart: that of the Body Distancing itself from its own pound

(5) Listen Up: “I’ll Leave no Details Slacking, So don’t you Come Around…”

(6) Intimacy at Dusk, Received with the Gravest Superstition

(7) We Might Compose: the Story, the Animal, the Unwinding Memory of the Muscle of Love

(8) The Figure here Somehow Concealed

 (9) In the Morning: I Steals away the Perspective I Thought: “Might Erase…” or put Another way: I Stole Because of our Need to Steal what it Might be, that Might have Stole

(10) Translation: My Ommi in her Rocking Chair, Waiting in the Nursery Home and Staring out the Window between two Poorly parted Curtains; she is waiting for Someone she once knew, Perhaps she once Birthed, someone she thought she might have once thought she knew, as if, someone once Mentioned; and into Focus: my Father, combing her Hair, as those eyes close, and that Smile begins to Form: Oh So-So Close

(11) And-----------------àIt All Came so Suddenly.” She Said.

(12) This City and its Lack of Snō, Oddly Envelopes us all the more, into an ever-increasing (-ily) Transparent and Desperate Look of Desire

(13) It’s Always about that Rushing Towards what seemingly is Set in its Way of Avoiding our Grasp

(14) This is a Smell that I Cannot Place, yet Habitating the Search, is Akin to Slithering into the Low Fog of a Barren yet Glowing awe

(15) in other words:----------------------------àthe Issue is not What the Emergency May be, nor Where the Emergency Might Occur, but only When the Emergency Will----------------àis” Itself into This





Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Essentially, and Coming Apart




Objection: this (is) the Absence; Remnants, (the) so Silly, “Of Course”, the Discourse of Internalities; and Interrogations (If) Committed as the “Charge of the Subject” then the Demands of what you are, are Apart, from what is a Seminal Part of “Coming Apart” 



Wednesday, January 23, 2013

2O FOOTNOTES TO A BRIEF HISTORY OF KICKING THAT SHIT INTO PARADISE



(0) I had no other Form of Expression but my Slew of Grief

(1) This is not an Adequate Description.” He Said

(2) That “Being Alive” is Always “Put into Play” through the Act of “Being Under Siegein other words------------------------àBeing Alive” is a Comedic Play of Violence, of Deceit, and the Betrayal, if Enclosed, is our Beautiful Imbecility of Laboring towards this, Endlessly

(3) This is not an Adequate Description.” He Said

(4) And it was a Form of Manipulation and of a History that no one before had Bothered to Write

(5) Now: Only Literally Shall I Quote the Barest bark

(6) When I am Confronted with your Presence, I am Enveloped in my own Private City, as in, I am Fully “Out of My Mind” and Fully “Into my own (-err) Skin” where the Cliff, thus the Disaster, is Always, about Teetering on the Edge of your Image, whereupon if the Threat of Falling became Manifest, my Private City would Dissolve, and I would be left, to Contemplate, some Sick Form of a Blossoming into Another’s Horizon. 

(7) This is not an Adequate Description.” He Said

(8) Thus: I Making up for, so much Time, so much Belated Ground, that I Hereby Refuse to Subject Myself Further to a Pleasure that entails a Stirring and Bitter Representation of an Economy

(9) “And Because I do not Wish to Understand, I am Terrified…”

(10) A History as such and then Kicking that Shit into Paradise

(11) I Haven’t a Face, but I Got’sa Hell of a Mouth (all) on Me

(12) It Came upon Me like a Speck of ice: the Autumnal Gorge of Slithering into a Warmth; the Digestion of Attaining what Glorifies, or Coagulates and Smooches the Face’s slummed Lining to the Point of Tackling the Sensation of Aging Being an Act of an Attentive Ass-Chafing

(13) And Still: the Snō Refused to (in) Fall

(14) Thus: Happiness Stirs where Miseries once Occurred

(15) This is not an Adequate Description.” He Said

(16) Or More Precisely: I Wish to spend this Month Contemplating my Formal Attachments to your Ass

(17) So the City Became a Bit More Raw to (in) Touch

(18) It was Everywhere your Body, Thus, the City once was Pummeling a Subject I Thought: Shrill in January’s Air

(19) in other words---------àan Objection Paves the Way for these Words that Stampede forth and Trample any other Voice’s Path, so to Ensure, the Propel, the Collection, of Samples, of your Skin’s Salt, at Dusk, Against the Blur of Defeat

(20) And Then She Said: “Now Bitch, Take a Seat…”