64bis. All My Own Words Now:

some pasquinades & squibs consequent to the preceding, that were passed around the crowds, as is the tradition

to write on paper
is an absolute act

 
as an author
             invisible
 

cadences writing poems
& fertile glitters
hallucinatory appeal finished
dead joy spilt

 
the water bubbles & coils
falls down then rises
slowly coming up
                 everywhere

 
& the children gather
learning to be serious as old folk
but breaking into bursts
of occasional glee
 

and we do have free choice
        – in small matters

 
lolloping along
an English bulldog
agape through carefully bred
inherent malformation
 

& how can we make these people real?
– w/ names, attributes & no inner being
endlessly repeated yet fortunately
each operation marred

 
The sun in splendour shines through wintriest skies
 

Perfection:
– oh, that’s brief, alright

One thought on “64bis. All My Own Words Now:”

  1. for your reading pleasure, I should add that I found The Book of Enoch & The Second Book of Adorno & Horkheimer close to eachother in a small sale bookcase at the local Waterstones.

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