This lapse in logic can perhaps be attributed to their recent foursome with a buxom Norwegian girl and some sort of fjord-dwelling eel deity. Imagine a pale blue sky, almost green, with clouds only at the rims. The earth rolls and the sun appears to mount, mountains erode, fruits decay, the Foraminifera adds another chamber to its shell, babies’ fingernails grow as does the hair of the dead in their graves, and in egg timers the sands fall and the eggs cook on. My body is a torn mattress. Before completely objective mirrors I have shot myself with my eyes. I have walked on my walks each night. I have brushed my teeth with orange peel while schools of glowing minnows swim from my mouth. I can’t go out anymore. I shall sit on my ceiling. This slime, a collection of several fungi actually, was more than just surviving in a radioactive environment, it was actually using gamma radiation as a food source. Samples of these fungi grew significantly faster when exposed to gamma radiation at 500 times the normal background radiation level. The fungi appear to use melanin, a chemical found in human skin as well, in the same fashion as plants use chlorophyll. That is to say, the melanin molecule gets struck by a gamma ray and its chemistry is altered. “I remember imagining that I was finished because everyone was vast.” All gold is alien gold. “I no longer care if I die, said Korin, then, after a long silence, pointed to the nearby flooded quarry: Are those swans?” I do it for love . I want to live in that book by burning it and sewing the ashes into my lungs . saying hey hey hey into . the ocean’s only half the metaphor . pigeons: their ears being too small to hear the whole route sounded, begin by flying in a circle in order to map the long waves to get back . I carry an undersound . an infracommons .
Every last person in this poem is dead, -
including me. I’m talking to you, yes,
thanks to my poet; he, thanks to me; my head
shakes and reverberates, while, less and less,
the waves of sound diminish, and, instead,
a lasting silence fills me and I rest.
Now in this blackness I begin to sing.
Invisible is every little thing:
- what would it be like to carry your own rhythm like an inner star?
- are we meant to read ‘bear’ as endure rather than carry?
- is it the constraint of rhyme the pattern that is tested?
- are we meant to read the shape shifting allusion into shifts shape and why?
- why is the night a European night?
also ‘Math. The vector product (written curl F or ∇ × F) of the operator ∇ (see del n.) with some given vector F; it gives a measure of the ‘vorticity’ or rotation at each point in the vector field F.’ which describes the falling snowflakes a mathematical precision: ‘rich, yet monochrome, design …’ of the snow field & reminiscent of the final paragraph of Joyce’s ‘The Dead’. I think I’ve read somewhere about the unique crystalline structure of each single snowflake (soul). But I’m only scratching at the surface. I mean,
Goodbye from now to being in the right,
farewell to lofty projects. Literature
became repulsive to me long before
I died; and so the topics of my pure
deliria recalled both less and more
than some minute particular: each sure
moment or colour lost its clear allure
because there are no longer any sounds.
Can it be you don’t hear this?
[Note: Sources: Paul Graham Ravenon, “A Genre in Crisis: On Paul Di Filippo’s ‘Wikiworld’”, at Los Angeles Review of Books, 1 Dec 013; Pamela Zoline, The Heat Death of the Universe and Other Stories, László Krasznahorkai, War & War (tr. George Szirtes), quoted in Janice Lee, “Favorite Books Read During 2013”, at HTMLGIANT, 2 Dec 013; Bob Kaufman, “Would You Wear My Eyes”, at African American Registry, via Sandra Simonds, FB post, 2 Dec 013; “Major biological discovery … inside the Chernobyl reactor??”, at Doug’s Darkworld, 29 May 07, via Jared Schickling, FB post, 2 Dec 013; Harvey Joseph & Lindsay James, Sea Adventures, or, Pond Life; image embedded in Graham Harman, “OOO activism”, at Object-Oriented Philosophy, 2 Dec 013 (“This is probably the first time one of my sentences has appeared on a protest sign. The scene is a Romanian protest against some nasty gold mining practices. The sentence comes from my forthcoming essay on gold. (I was simply referring to the fact that gold originates in supernovae, but it has a nicely different resonance in this context.)”); Ash Smith, “12-2-13”, at opened by customs, 2 Dec 013; Simon Jarvis, Night Office, and John Armstrong, quoted in Armstrong’s “Simon Jarvis’ Night Office”, at Bebrowed’s Blog, 18 Jun 013, and Peter Brown, comment appended to same; Simon Jarvis, Night Office, in Simon Jarvis / Sean Bonney / 18th June 2010 / Cambridge Reading Series / Judith E. Wilson Drama Studio / Faculty of English / University of Cambridge, at Plantarchy]