On the profane purpose

What cleanses and who can be called on to perform a puerile cleansing? What could it mean to pray to higher beings when these higher beings are an educated audience, technical priests, that were trained to police an esoteric and feral language, only listening if it could be humanizing to stick together, clotting in the humors? Who chooses what’s human? I choose widespread assassination attempts on mirrors.

There’s not a death to be found. The bullets never ricochet.

I posit a demon’s equation shit + shit = immortality digitizing in funereal fonts. Verbiage tube leaking badly. Get inside my mirror.

Biology is conspiracy.

SAVE NOTHING FOR THE GRAVE.

Could this be CLEANSING us in our depths, preparing a sterile future?

Who is here to regulate and punish deviant communication?

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ÿÿ+
ÿÿ; is that CLEANSING?  ÿÿ} ÿÿ¿ ÿÿä ÿÿç =[a(n)]

Rinse

the gene pool chlorination. It’s war in me. Shelling cells. Seems like an overreaction. Winner take all. Scientists aren’t in us, cleaning code of dirt. Check your facts. The amniotic desert is in the center of earth. Thoughts do not influence the shape taken by ghosts that hybridize with arousal. That’s not based in

observable phenomenon or supported claims. Yes,

but….

Who is redeemed? Fucking joke. There is no deposit. Give me back my money. Never yours. Who’s then? Looks like you’ve got deep pockets. Looks like you’ve got a deep orifice. I haven’t reached the depth where implosion is a risk so go deeper. Who drowns by water weight? Never been underwater. What’s it cost? Would the policy pay out if whole continents sink? Cutting back is a sacrifice. Who lives by consumer rights? Who bears the right to consume? Those who won’t will be un-produced inward by the great consumption where there is no witness. No word but the word that feels, touches, and…
I witnessed this. Who is the redeemed? the VIRUS of
boredom is cathartic and irrepressible / always / comb thru the remnants / a solid collection / i can live off these for a long time / because I exercise / my right to consume / who will be



upward looking as always………
 
Look! Churning around on the page like a worm. Could it matter who matters?
Can’t be the only one / clamoring / to be flushed out / the worm hole.

Who is here to regulate and punish deviant communication?

The garbage must’ve been reading commercial screenplays

jaws rhythmically chattering without any noticeable attachment to the dried up creature
that it speaks for

I’ve outlived real life so keep an available vein I’m coming in the hard way a shot in the arm is just what you needed I’ve resurfaced from the depths of your pale wrinkled bed sheets and drooled
my way into acceptance I want to throw them head first into the sore bloody raw
wide open
the gap the social prerequisites transfused the transducer pounds on the front door everyone is dangling on the edge on the precipice that’s their right that’s their right don’t interfere it’s a choice to stand on the edge the polymorphous blood clots and a misuse
over the counter medications in the bad side of the right brain scored a free key chain but that’s off topic there is a puddle of oil on shopping center asphalt spreading out and suffocating insects and arachnids that happen to be in its proximity and I’m mutating the uncertain ambiguous sexual tension that is provoked by a soft lingering touch a spider crawls up my arm it’s not sensuous it’s legs are too raw and serrated no more rubbing please please pleease ppppleeeeesse pplllllllllllll eeeease ease use the pillow this time underneath the stomach ribs catch the mattress springs use the pillow you’d say how you feel so hot-wired I lost a voice in the crowd on the busy sidewalk it gets stepped on and broken minuscule pieces jabbing bare feet dried glue tube too late avenue floods blood waist deep I couldn’t complain about the terminology that determines how some unknown supernatural species
broke into the field and started a career a once precise and rigorous logic that had deteriorated into a recent mother locked up in a rib cage and who made them eat their way out the taste never goes away the taste never forgets can’t go through with it personality’s transformation and rebirth so trying so tiring so degrading too many power suits in pursuit of more no more a moratorium on more tell them about these hypnotic manipulative creatures oh yes they’ve been surreptitiously devised and released and maintained by some preconceived evolutionary plot an underground society a secret purification and I have to be homogenized if I wish to stay a new voice is devised however it says the same things already heard all of that pllllleeasseeee stop the repetition oh but’s the tradition the tradition of repetition
always look over your shoulder and sleep with one eye open I’m coming for you keep a low profile and
whatever other cliched crap about suspicion and paranoia that you can think of I have discomfort and blood clots and a steep training on the misuse
of over the counter medications xxxxtermination is not necessary don’t worry I’ll let you wiggle around for a while some will get free but it reinvigorates the trash

I am the pivotal statement ruining unlimited knowledge



Extraordinary! Perishable. Organism collections. Want more. Want more want more whant more whatn more thwnsm more waht more whant more more more more precise configuration I am
the pivotal statement ruining unlimited knowledge
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extraordinarily crude device
but it’s normal
I’m normal
A family of norms
I am
the pivotal statement ruining unlimited knowledge
I am
the pivotal statement ruining unlimited knowledge

in and out check my arm a form of Modern intercourse
modernism finally finds an available vein transfuse truth
the piston action of the machine forces blood to course through the opened can of rapidly
rotting tuna r eplace alcohol stained rag doll
destroyed by a once
precise and rigorous logic deteriorate dddddeteriorated into
lacerated rusted metal e d g e s ddeteriorate dd
gouging every disagreement and expression of doubt deterttiorrate
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to describe supra-rational things in semi-rational terms, which becomes in effect, another bastardization

I am
the pivotal statement ruining unlimited knowledge

No, I am.

Being high versus being is high

The government puckered its ovals, presiding over ovoid incomprehension: “how can they be this way?” he wonders.

Being as uninterrupted life, swallowing world, or life-world, is posed as a containing limit against human intransigence, either as a warm, undressed …no, not that. More like, Being acquits our error, the generalized thinking that we will be allotted more anthropomorphic chances, which are the generalizations we must stand within in order for them to…not that, either. No, Being presides over our fixation on grounding subject as the lesser of subjectivity, appearance as less than noumenon, as presence vocalizing meaning in the…no, never mind. The gaze vacuums knowledge, attempts the emplacement of a field or matrix upon the lesser beings by strength of projection at us, the orgiastic self-mess formed in a caved in shell that throbs inward, dramatically upending monadic coherence as subjects resolve to overcome the transversal and become Being. Yes, us: Pharmakon writ large, as drug, cure and poison, poisoning and curing, liberating and inducing symptoms of enchantment. Drugs by nature, a pill in the particular, I’m eyes, but without a subject of sight.

Be delusional. The government is out to get us, to retro-activate a re-origin of the real, out elsewhere, the obscene outward desire to withhold a billion generations before the teleological pull inward, attached or unattached to theology, all things becoming such as quicksand would, a force and pressure made of this, a billion generations, whereupon it consumes the absolute whole.

“Such as a mirrored reflection of the former self as was seen on a puddle of water that was contaminated with one’s own shit, one may now see better without clarity.”

“I’m not on drugs, and that is illogical to ‘be’ on, as to ‘be’ is in. I’m drugs, experiencing myself as a high point in the forward thrust of history, a teleology where progress is immanent, mostly for me.”

Unnecessary commentary on Shakespeare’s The Tempest

Monstrous and monotonous as a day at work.

Caliban’s Bureau of Land Reclamations.

1
STROPHE

The cleanly King of Naples,
his Claribel in untidy Tunis.
Un-astute Adrian thinks the queen
a paragon of something porous.
With my magikal hunchbacked calls,
that curl the lips of clouds &
wave a kiss
to raise an uncharitable
storm at their backs –
do you understand me, Ariel?
Swear upon the book,
that you have nothing more to tell,
because its contents are continents, we are
adrift on the drool of Neptune’s brine.
By Sycorax my mother,
THIS ISLAND’S MINE.

  

2. ANTISTROPHE

blah blah blah blah deformed in Carthage Dido’s wearing
nothing
but a frilly smile a silly file coughed up
like an inert truth a nothing serum drank by the F.B.I so
Hannibal Lector had his gross wages become nothing garnished in his out of wedlock child collection showed little interest in me pardoning a clown having
a % of a nothing father but show up in scene 5 pursing lips kiss kiss
kiss kiss me kisses that turned me into nothing inside out
and I go slide down the throat needing a wallet of rubles on delivery
to finance nothing but a vile and bloody scoop
a sad bobbing heritage
ethnic heft is a coup to oust nothing out of a gene crockpot with a
baster and a ladle the filmic squirting of Ronald Reagan in
Pope Rambo III probably buying
a freaky fleshlight bazooka to ship to Iran
because Remus and Romulus and the Ayatollah would not cast
Jodie Foster as Bin Laden’s role in the Beyoncé video as a backwoods air
mute button as a dancer wearing nothing but bronze
cast as a cure for the
summertime blues the summer
McCarthy witch hunts nothing
the praxis Gramsci
extolled only leads to Dick Clark’s and Dick Cheney’s American Bandstand being propped
up by bar stools on Cheers as some kind of flippant
cold war saga to be tuned into
DRUNK AS FUCK
watch hippies drop out of nothing and
Hoover drops in every once and while
fresh hits of citric acid
and zinc lozenges in the nothing aisle
sunshine settles the west
Latium’s shined-on debts to the United Nations
deploying Trump’s go-cart track turned
nothing aside on a liquid toupee inside the
drunk fuck secret meeting beheld
above Times New Roman square on a firm ground of nothing flipping
bitches as they say and seeing the instructions on how to operate operation Barbarossa
are messaged to Valerian a hundred of years to the East of Van Halen
and Valens because Yohimbe wasn’t good enough
men ate iron and iron age Romanians ate Ceausescu it is tough
chewy to grasp nothing at Adrianople in 378 A.D. because SPOCK! and
Captain Kirk in the California desert come in spurts on QueeQueg’s fledgling log of Cornish Ecstasy rolling and along comes a yule logs again tossing the embers tossed in the fire by clever dead Germans Fraser worries in the
Golden Bough about Einstürzende Neubauten crossing the Danube and
gives me raw nothing seaweed
nori and a powerpack assorted whale parts
to parse with sushi blades before I pass out like Mana unto the Israelites I run all over the Mediterranean like an herb chicken an actual lopped off platitude.

The Public’s Place

Stores and shops got bigger and bigger every year.
The enlargements, expansions, and growth of multi-location chains meant huge tracts of land were converted into malls, multiplexes, and lots where the total size mimicked amusement park proportions. Public spaces had been town squares, green spaces, and community centers. Public spaces became places where shoppers carry out a similar activity, shopping, which becomes their main shared characteristic. Shoppers focus on fulfillment of demand, the apt pairing of an ability to pay for a desired item and the store’s ability to provide the desired item. To participate in the intended purpose of a store, which has the appearance of a public space, a shopper must possess a key resource, money or credit. Public spaces have certain hallmarks, such as: free access, equal use, and shared property. The public ceased to be a group defined as equals with no greater privilege or rights than others. Shopping supplanted forms of activity involving equals in shared spaces with forms of activity that not only entailed differential access, but intentionally structured the activity to produce differential outcomes: shoppers must have money or credit to be a part of the space; shoppers only get as much out of the experience of shopping as they can pay for.
Stores and shops got bigger and bigger every year, which made them more and more assume the character of homes, where privacy and isolation dominate, and where contact with and relations to the outside, i.e. the non-familial, world is weak, relegated to a position of relative unimportance. The rise of internet shopping acted as a counterforce to the growth of stores, but exacerbated the retreat of the public.

As if by design, there is no longer a public. There are only households. There are only workplaces and homes.

My Favorite Store is Spacious

Sunday
I went to the grocery store.
On my list:
Loaf of wheat bread (no particular brand; look for a sale price)
Mustard (stone ground)
Bananas (organic)
Ham (packaged slices or deli; whatever’s cheaper)
The store had changed in the time I’d last been there,
Which was 5 days prior to Sunday.
The store was remodeled.
I like spacious stores.
Thin aisles mean a parked cart blocks me from getting through.
Aisles were widened and lengthened
And I didn’t see another person
as I examined a loaf
making sure mine had no dented slices.