It must be abstract It must change It must give pleasure

the real unreal: the unnameable: the howl: the ineffable: the iridescent: the void: the origin of change: the muddy centre before we breathed: the myth before the myth: the first idea in violet space: a passion felt, not understood: the anonymous colour of the universe: the savage plainness: the silence: the vulgate: the gibberish: the hermit in poet’s metaphors: the to and fro both at once: the alpha omega: the round and round like wine at a table: dark things without a double: the exactest point at which the thing is itself: the movable, the moment: the permanent impermanent: the indifferent eye: the big X: the dominant blank, the unapproachable: the cold and earliness and bright origin: the bodiless half: the clearing for outpouring: the single sleep: the intricate evasions: the senseless element: the coming on and coming forth: the final form: the clearness: the traversing shade: the rugged and luminous, chants in the dark: the and yet, and yet, and yet: the possible, possible, possible…



Yves Klein, Wallace Stevens

i'm sorry

i don't think of you as a real person, with feelings, thoughts and desires as opposed to a Lacanian experiment in conspicuous identity construction.
maybe if i did we would get somewhere, if i could think the same about myself.

jericho

my consequence for reticence
is reliance on the happenstance
to chance upon the noble men
who might march around the walls

a hoarder of my solitude
mud bricks serve as fortitude
spy-hiding rahab prostitute
i am both city and the wall

hermetic and impenetrable
no one gets out or in
sealed shut up in mirrored halls
i invite you to break in
massacre my static
take me with your gall
iconoclasts! tear down this mess
leave rubble of once a wall

soldiers soldiers sound the horns!
if you asked me to i'd stop the sun
turn seven days and nights to one
compulse your legs to trace the wall

seventh march on seventh day
incite what's cracking to decay
ozone-tinged stones falling away
shout battle! at the wall

destroy my city grokkingly
beatify dead garden trees
whose suicide leaves were quicker than me
with your tribe i'll leave this wall

soldier lover and destroyer
be obedient and leave the spoils
anoint my dusty streets in oil
walk the ark around this wall

my silence sings false witness
to a falser god
I’m waiting on the altar
flaunting onyx glossed facade
if you want to light the timber
to smith me molten in a bowl
with palmers palm sing gracefully
to the ear-hearts of my wall