Mine looks sort of like me — my size and shape — but blue and clear and it smells like radishes. Mine’s like, y’know how in amateur porn there are all these indifferent dogs and cats? You feel the pain when you wake up at night chilled in the antechambers, cocooned by crystal sugar bi-products from starless mono fields beckoning the water in plasma, the succor and the help scent. The noonday sun? The noonday sun is depicted as an ancient being with crossed eyes who drank blood, and a final series of masks resemble the local jaguars, which awake from their jungle slumbers at dusk. Anonymous agitated phone call: “Leave goat man alone. He’s done nothing wrong.” What was even more exciting -- and inconceivable, now that I think of it -- was my pilgrimage to Schwitters’ Merzbarn in the middle of a snowy winter ... The farmer who owned the barn, a kind of gentleman farmer called Mr. Pierce, just gave me the key and let me stay inside for as long as I wanted. It was pretty much as Schwitters had left it ten years before ... Seriously, if we’re not setting fire to cars we’re nowhere. Think about this. The city gets hotter and deeper as the pressure soars. Electrons get squeezed out of atoms to produce a substance never seen on Earth. Under such extreme conditions, hydrogen behaves like liquid metal, conducting electricity as well as heat. If none of that happens, it’s a waste of time. Perhaps you think that doesn’t apply to you. What inexhaustible reserves we possess of darkness, ignorance and savagery. A hundred million people use electricity and still believe in the magic power of signs and exorcisms. Could we really arrive at a knowledge of poetry by studying the saliva of dogs? The metallic hydrogen sea is tens of thousands of miles deep. If the bees disappear, we’ll have four years left. I should go on to tell you the many other parts of justice, but I must send for my midwife. If you read Marx when you’re stoned, it sounds like Beckett: “Grace to be born and live as variously as possible.” The ratings cut to junk PDD-NOS ratings triiodothyronine parts shortages, it shall be you lashed naked short; a tight borrow fire engineering solid waste TDO LIPID 6 ratings go gloat fit to fringe. I accumulate you: desire krush ex necromat. This is about food and my uterus and I’m sorry, I really am. This is about the proliferation of lily pads. What a shame to get married in a polyester blend. The next section is very lyrical, it may as well belong to a quiet documentary. After the furious bellow of the moles it is certainly a relief to no longer be watching many wounded creatures try to stand. Who says we are all concept / On the latest horizon of the event / … / / There isn’t a poem in this, but what we can do / … / / etc. etc. “In den Fetischcharakter flüchet sich unterm Kapatilismus die Utopie des Qualitativen.” “Under capitalism the utopia of the qualitative takes refuge in the fetish-character.” How much propulsion makes a severed head snap-to? And the logic of a heart gone fucky from the outside / collapsing in the freezing heat of .jpeg relativity THE REFERENCE / might be stapled to the cheek: / Check: Our new crop of stag beetles (Kabuto-Mushi) are fighting, fucking, and knocking the piss out of each other all night in their plastic terrarium. Once in a while they stop to stick their beaks and mandibles into little packs of pine jelly that we give them, and then they go back to what they so much appear to enjoy doing -- it makes them squeak in excitement. The ladies are winning handily over the men, though the men have long horns with hooks at the ends and the ladies have none. No, do not begin to imagine that I'm hinting at an allegory -- this is happening in real time at 2 A.M. next to the shoe box. Abstract Artists do the Devil’s Work. When I hear the word “culture” I click like.
[Note: Sources: Will, as quoted in Lisa Carver, “What Kids Say About Souls”, at Vice, 24 Jul 012; JBR, but see “Indifferent Cats in Porn”, at Vice, Jun 012 et seq (it’s a series); Brenda Iijima, “Where is the format …”, in Crisis Inquiry / Damn the Caesars, Summer 2012; JBR; National Geographic article, as quoted in Matt Staggs, “1600 Year Old Mayan Temple Discovered in Guatemala”, at Disinformation, 24 Jul 012; Brian Skoloff, “‘Goat man’ in Utah mountains identified as hunter”, at Yahoo! News, 24 Jul 012 (hat tip Omo Bob); Trevor Winkfield, as quoted in Richard Owens, “BENVENISTE MOTTRAM RAWORTH ET AL MIMEO MIMEO DER VIER”, at Damn the Caesars, 28 Jan 011; Sean Bonney, “Letter on Riots and Doubt”, at A Second Fiery Flying Roule;recent bee keeper protest slogan, epigraph to Joseph G. Ramsey, “To Kill the Bees”, at Dissident Voice, 24 Jul 012; Keston Sutherland, “Ode to TL61P 3”, in Crisis Inquiry / Damn the Caesars, Summer 2012; Keston Sutherland, Hot White Andy, as quoted in Josh Stanley, “Commitment and Verse. A Response to Keston Sutherland’s Email on Verse-in-Prose”, in Crisis Inquiry / Damn the Caesars, Summer 2012; Bookbat, “shut up shut up shut UP”, at The Bookbat, 24 Jul 012; JBR, but see Jacob Sloan, “The Pentagon’s New Secret Lily-Pad Network”, at Disinformation, 24 Jul 012 (“Unknown to most Americans, Washington’s garrisoning of the planet is on the rise, thanks to a new generation of bases the military calls “lily pads” (as in a frog jumping across a pond toward its prey). These are small, secretive, inaccessible facilities with limited numbers of troops, spartan amenities, and prepositioned weaponry and supplies. Around the world, from Djibouti to the jungles of Honduras, the deserts of Mauritania to Australia’s tiny Cocos Islands, the Pentagon has been pursuing as many lily pads as it can, in as many countries as it can, as fast as it can. Although statistics are hard to assemble, given the often-secretive nature of such bases, the Pentagon has probably built upwards of 50 lily pads and other small bases since around 2000, while exploring the construction of dozens more.”); Maura, in “Cuts Like a Knife” episode of Rizzoli & Isles; Evan Calder Williams, “& (A film in 13 scenes, scene 11)”, at The New Inquiry, 24 Jul 012; Thom Donovan, “For Buffy”, at Wild Horses of Fire, 24 Jul 012; Karl Marx, Capital, as quoted in (and translated by) Keston Sutherland, “Fetish and Refuge: A Mock Pastoral”, in Crisis Inquiry / Damn the Caesars, Summer 2012; Joe Luna, “Ode: Failcore the Song”, in Crisis Inquiry / Damn the Caesars, Summer 2012; Jesse Glass, Facebook post, 24 Jul 012; First Assembly of Christ church street sign, photo (by Ernst Koslitsch) seen on Facebook, 25 Jul 012; Angela Genusa, Facebook, 25 Jul 012]