There is the equivalent in weight of 100 elephants in a small cumulous cloud. There are whales small as elephants. In a canyon, a sound was very hungry, as hungry as a puma, so it went looking for ears. Infinity is the last of its kind unless we live in a foam. I didn’t know scallops have blue eyes and that they also snap at you when you pick them up off the ocean floor. What do you call someone who believes so firmly in the promise of salvation through a set of rigid rules that he is willing to risk his own life to spread those rules? A religious fanatic? A holy warrior? How about an Arclight biotrade negotiator? Take Fish Boy here, one of those happy accidents that happen from time to time. He’s so toxic that even his breath can kill you. Not that I’d ever get that close, you see? Just an observation from the sledge deck. We’re hovering above what used to be the Everglades, the last outpost of the United Asshole League, I mean … Liberty Central, the free zones, where death is a holiday from time, the last fringe benefit of a system that gave up the ghost a century ago. The funny thing is that I didn’t remember the image correctly. I rechecked the website and visited the gallery the same day, discovering that the sculpture was actually of a melting ice floe. I mean, if mathematics needn’t be accountable to philosophical standards of rationality, then it might as well be speculative theology! Also I called my old job earlier and hopefully they will call back soon because goddamnit nipple piercings don’t pay for themselves. Besides, as Kush has it, “My work is meant for Post Apple 2200-2300-2500 on out, when someone will enter into a real space to commune with the living poetics of my subjects and thereby enter Eternity / William Blake’s GOLGONOOZA.” I see — I see — don’t crowd so on me, — I see — I see — too many forms — don’t crowd so on me — I see — I see — you are thinking of something — you don’t know whether you want to do it now. I see — I see — don’t crowd so on me — I see — I see — you are not sure, — I see — I see — a house with trees around it, — it is dark — it is evening — I see — I see — you go in the house — I see — I see you come out — it will be all right — you go and do it — do what you are not certain about — it will come out all right — it is best and you should do it now.
[Note: Sources: David Gianinni, “O’Keefe and Melville”, “Alibi”, “Looking Up”, at Litter; JBR; Sandra Simonds, FB post, 6 Jul 013; Steven Craig Hickman, “The Life and Times of Kamikaze Jones: A Dystopian Fragment …”, at Noir Realism, 6 Jul 013; Thomas Micchelli, “Single Point Perspective: Entropy Now”, at Hyperallergic, 6 Jul 013 (re Maya Lin, “Disappearing Bodies of Water: Arctic Ice”); JBR (I love this really annoying little connective); Hans Halvorson, as quoted in Eric Schliesser, “No more reductions!”, at New APPS, 6 Jul 013; Zoe, “Also I called …”, at anarcho-mom, 6 Jul 013; JBR, but see next; Kush, “CAMERA POETICS: FIELDING PROJECTIVE VERSE/OLSONIAN GESAMTKUNSTWERK”, via link in Jeff Boruszak, “Cloud House Poetry Archives / Larry Eigner: Sacred Materials”, and Gertrude Stein, “The Good Anna”, as quoted in Boruszak, at Jacket2, 24 Jun 013]