[or: The Dream of the Jamoke]

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“& now, when I look out the Window, I see dead birds. Hills of dead birds. & I feel sorry for those birds.”

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so disorienting, to move forward within Braille, engulfed

in a production of my own-------------->your Face, is not

structured in form, yet beautiful

as it fades,

slyly away.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s transforming—along my body, fluttering as a chilled force. It, like my own inability to concrete my thoughts, are beyond the ability to grasp. Tiny attempts at the peeling of the object. It is a fragment, fragmenting even here. Because there were fragments, there were birds. A plethora of Black Birds, back. Because there were Black Birds, the City turned in my vision again, silently screened out, to Black & Ash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thus, I couldn’t see the Figure, so I wrote. I couldn’t see the Face so I wrote. It’s eyes were black, so I wrote. It’s hair was black, so I wrote. It’s mouth was black, so I wrote. It’s cheeks were black, so I wrote. It’s nose was black, so I wrote. It’s ears were black, so I wrote. It’s hands were black, so I wrote. It’s knees were black, so I wrote. It’s thighs were black, so I wrote. It’s back was black, so I wrote. It’s feet were black, so I wrote. It’s entire “body” had gone black, so I wrote.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thus, anxiety me, back

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Open your eyes now,

to find yourself alone,

in the middle of the street, staring at an Empty Store Window

with

your—

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Face, Folding in Face

"I appear to be in peril"-"within my own defecting"-"space, tumbling over, myself"-"what I might have, torn"-"modes of lecherous labor, grill"-"the great internal threat of the, everyday"-"emancipating myself from my"-"own discovery is not space, or even"-"my intentions are postures of doom"-"in ill-defined extreme, I face"- "assembling my body, in an organization of contorting postures"-"the dipshit density of the object"-"we must now construct"-"an attempt to undefine"-"I suppose I'm just a formalization"-"wounded, around doubt formed"-"what I shall term, man in still, turn"-"in conditions I perform the growth of sensations"-"even this line is archaeological"-"any sudden disorder in life I'm fine"-"objected the disassociation of my body, hole"-"my figure then is in what lacerates me"-"I'm conceived as the great gulp of Recession"-"by disappearing, I consumed the entire field"-"moment by moment, the storm went"-"this is an attempt to remove the obstacle of form"-"a project of stasis"-"I'm outside the organelle"-"function, a study of suctions"-"it's anatomy dissolved upon appearance, my tongue there"-"to employ as a means of marking the"-"fundamentally forming the fucking event"-"in other words"-"I exist as fucking I'm mass"-"the most troubled form, is the direction of this subject"-"in face"-"as face, I parody the spectacle"-"to open, I want you on my Lap"-"on which you meet me, alone"-"loin a fashion me interlacing through & thump"-"the rest of what I produce I consume"-"a retaliation to a past, thinking body"-"I possible a form, or"-"at this point, I obscure perfectly"-"in some deep sleep"-"expressing the intracortical of the groan"-"the articulation in which, I divest the subject"-"in form in which I traversed I'm social"-"in the throes of the strange"-"capacity of a constant consumption, can"-"to work by which, I'm satisfied with my increasing widths"-"speaking into mutational, shits"-"more or less, the interior engulfs me"-"by Bum speaking"-"stutter[err] & finally structure the distance that separates the"-"up again & against, I'm gone"-"th'outer slope, there I'll soap"-"this sputtering sense of personal representation"-"opening thus, thy deploy & fucking destroy"-"each gesture is already pronounced, I gas"-"to those who act, my dance"-"marveling in mirror at my own facial distortion"-"the thrust, I man"-"an erosion of an intimate impression"-"at first glance, I could say plunk the body, thar."-"subdivided into extensions of elliptic executions of"-"I function as eruptions that interrupt"-"my dearest hiccup"-"Here, I'll man, the edge of a verbal trace"-"on the other hand, the first cry I omit is"-"Ma, I'm fucking doomed."