Thursday, November 22, 2012


(1) How about we start on this Side of Terror

(2) There was that Alarm that Forced us to Retreat, to such a Distance, that the Horizon became a Figure, endlessly Closing (in) on Itself

(3) Time Passes, the Fragment Coagulates, getting over the Hump, humps

(4) The City that I come-into each Day is, I Suppose, a Picturesque Representation of the Past’s Savagery and the Present’s Vigilant Aches, in which, my Body, in its own Navigating way, makes its own willing Abstraction of a History, which Amounts to a Trace of Light: which is a Record of Abomination and surely, Exclusion

(5) Flustered by my own Beginning, I Wrote endlessly: “I was Born in Chicago” until it Became a Method of Repeating what Grew to a Falsity

(6) Clarity is only the Outline of the actual Meat

(7) “I Would Love to Wipe that fucking Logic right off your Face.”

(8) So we Bubble forth, and the Emergence, of a Lullaby: Bent and Barking all Along in Song:

(9) You Feel a Body: something, almost, like your Body: something Comparable.  You can Riff off your Body, against other Bodies and already this is, in a way, Accomplishing something: such as, Becoming accustomed to the opening of an Abbreviation, or the Loosened Necktie. You are Becoming now, no longer Accustomed, but rather, Used to other Bodies, so that you cannot do much, with yourself, without them.  You can no longer imagine your Body, all alone, in this City, by its Self: it is no longer, essentially, your Body alone: in fact, you are already looking, desperately, for other Bodies, even as I Type this.  You have Become now, once again Accustomed, to that Word: Abuse, through your Abuse of other Bodies and Vice-Versa.  This Means: while Something else, has Become unimaginable, Something else, has Become terrifyingly Possible.

(10) I Express myself in Movements--------------àtowards Moving towards Enacting an Action

(11) The First Sentence should Begin: “I will not Agree to fucking Die…”

(12) “He has the Face but not the Phosphorescence of Working”

(13) These are merely Notes to Engage myself in a Game of Naming my own Self-Destruction, my own infinite Disintegration

(14) “Blow it (-es) off…”ß-----------------------------------------------àMurf

(15) The Need to Say: “this”; Half-Heartedly, in a Chorus, only to Find, myself Mistaken; but it is the Importance of having that Choice, that Disturbs no Other outside of the Utterance, yet one, that is Bold: like Loving You.

(16) Softly, Cautiously, you Came into my Eye Cost-------------------------------à(-ily)

(17) The Second Sentence should Follow: “Begin.  I cannot Begin myself…”

(18) Okay, so it has Comes to this: “Talk me Down (…) // Talk me Down (…)  // Talk me Down (…)”

(19) To Mean to Say: “I Say, let us Rise to this Disaster…”ß------------àAnd no other Sentence, shall Follow

(20) To Begin Again: let’s talk about the Pigeon with its last Song Undone