Sir did yo ~ u blog any? thing? blog sir? I I sir Blog? pray tell how it blogged Je_I? in this mad month of in like a lion Mars? out like a lamb? then lambkins? ah me chippies...

this sentence

...If you’re trapped in the dream of the other, vous êtez fotu — you’re fucked ... So spoke Papa Deleuze one afternoon conferencing ~


2008, une ann�e de r�ve
reve reve reve reve reve ~


send those to the repair factory

pardon me?
you refer I take it to the entries brief and bullied you blogged this day moon light ridden night ?

mere pshaws & pahoos ballyhoo~ .
What Mona calls frosting on the mud . resigns on the consigns. regimental screw--up.s rank down bores. not my Colonel's work! my captain!

Done Sir~


and those who are sorry for themselves
knowing where the mountain is?

i don't feel sorry for them and
their griefs
their grief's not greater than other's ~

there is no victory ~
for self pity's a narrow gate
not that of horn
or ivory



that's only half if barely acceptable ~ yerregretmoroseremorse shin
shine / as air to quilt (ed) guilt ~ not a monster 'you' created
but 'one' made
but buffeted time's murder ~ tied by econos god's right & rule


that's only half if barely acceptable ~ yer regret morose remorse shine / as air to quilt (ed) guilt ~ not a monster you created
but one made but buffeted time's murder ~ tied by econos god's right & rule

were you

were you a judge?
no, never
hasty, rash

but judge?
with robes
& wig

only those with
means can judge

explain yourself ~




thats no reply


O kay
let's say
only those
with means
can afford
not to "judge"

as you put it
one who furls
in the nomadic everyday
if plumb lines
fall right

to the floor

as stars make hills of sky ~


Ah ~


tear[s] to diamond[s]

he wanted to make tears diamonds
but winter always cuts the ice
diamonds burn

tears return
night is a shade

what bird is it cuts so ?
myself monster of ten thousand years

I the dumb_ waiter cut the tear
now diamond fear
is tear
I reproach you _ myself ~


you reproach who?
yourself is I
you reproach
monster ~


is it true beauty lay at my feet
was I monster
or just born this way?

you were always a limb
hangin' from a tree
with crooked leaves
bent of shape
nooked of nape
yer leg
a cut drain
a heart of stone
turned brick and bone

this is what you are ~

bless you



yer kind to speak these words to this mask, persona of death and doubt.
double step to time ~ .

P in a leap y~eAr ~

P in a l~ ea ~ p yea~ is


... moon sin...~ gin ~ g

friend singing
Blue Moon
to the

Chinese grocer
from Beijing
barely a

rosy cheeked

pretties thing
ever seen~

last night~

coldest night yet

yet song



say' me' then

ok explore and inventory idea that literature & poetry is a health; so if there is health, there is malady. end malady _ so poetry at a given time , if it is better, is not so much an aesthetic idea, as the idea, of getting better, less sick._ if that is what I mean, and understand

you said this before but got carried away with it, going some where else. wherefore then?

well maybe it's like politics people must get sick before they get better. but they need a doctor; what if the doctor is sick? if the doctor and patient are one, or one dualistic machine.
and god is th~e great [est?] doctor, or is god sick? Nietzsche thought he was dead. Im not sure. i mean.

I see god everywhere. depends what you assent by god. is god an assent . a poem. a verse of peccadillo.or a better getting better. is god getting better. Kazantakis speaks of this in of his books.it s been ages, since I read him, but he was the great searcher as well.

maybe it was Report to Greco he said or someone says god needs us. to complete his work.

well lets assume for a moment god was jesus. if he died, as a god, and came back a s a god, was he ever dead?
was he a double god?

O my such deeps in you. Mister poet theologian? no, I see poetologian deeping his mysteries eleusinian.


tell me then sir
what rhymes

I say



uze ...



the wall and other shi... t....e...


land and land
freetreading trade
debate & rebate


yer land their land
yer trade
and distortion


war no war
rent no rent
property poverty
capital labour
love's labour
kicked in the ass

I forgot about cursor's pity daily comments here


an this


this is your body and blood on the altar of democracy you cry as tears pull down the surplus
care package of its rent steam piling in the spent dares over the wind

the train cries but upstream hooting boats philosophize weather bane and paddling dogs not the same as Socrates fare but close to vacuous caverns and cithonian cakes you stand and pair each night its hour to day Summer was not this sort of bake sale but loneliness is the shell which never ends prison of your body like a country sign condemned to be alive in
permanent solitude

this is the captcha's punishment for them
that step off side
in the rink
weak lambs copulate you are reduced to sand
and nonsense
freedom of thought is whiplashed by cutting rejection & refusal on the metro you see that, you see how lonely people are, how rage and anger ,, christians who are all hypocrites say god forgives but what god forgives who does not punish their little jesus was a sauce pan delight cooked for good stew to the hanging god the other gangsters? a bunch of desert cronies
leaving their folks in the lurch
again and more think of the Shoah doesn't take much to see god's gangster whos on no one's side never was always violent god neeeds rehabilation and learning proper manners if its about power well shit man this is not power this is powerless ness this god's under arrest now in sentence Nietzsche's god is dead power's god thrives as big ballocked

bullies cash their crops
and the critics whine

as spring is the narcotic head of nations
love is always turning in the page
body fever opens rare cooking
as tarrying fortune chases haste
wont' it wait at your gate
not surged by the intent of love

is there not a cape to don your clothes
love will come like a beating beauty
pounding its drum


Adam ~mourning


American Adam by

canadian prisonsbad to worse

the audicity of ....

doran golan's mourning

& in canadadadland "prudentfedbudget" sez who for who?

yesterday you choked up
cried like a kid three times
in the street cold
as wrath~
not a nice
world where poetry's an expedient ~
canad a is the shit box where you ~


some laterals

lenin's tomb _ taste this mister out of the loop zizek




flatus meaning gas.

yahu meaning god.

We’ve Got Gas!

for 2 3 days Bartok, concentration. only way to listen. stay with for repetition. and learn.its not planned. just happen. tht way. necesssity is the inventor . always. one creates out of need, as the tt said a'issued out of a true necessity' .



debs rebs clebs.chebs. zeb. whirl. furl. of snow. mow and row. even insects. long time gaone. yea. things like that. not sure of. old ago. past passe tense. blog this? shen then . why not
fen and bog
myrrh and mist

rile & roar

city ~in

i'm walking all over her breasts
cupped with my secret fingers
& 'down' there not down at all but dragon's lair
dragon's lair of love & fire [suspicious of bolded words]
as she climbs over my head [rightly so]

is that

is that bartok you listen
ing to
she asked

he was lookin' at the lace hanging's
her apartment 'big' enough anyhow to get her around in
and him[?]
if she said come on over the ice is ready
heart' melted
spreading her thighs

hefting her hips
Opening her lips
Holding her head back

rearing for him to come on [down into her][?]


where does the I begin then stop off...

almost presquer


o yeas doctor d almost
almost doctor d
doctor O almost
almost O doctor'd
with tea in yer tea
lets go pee
makes you go pee
who'd have ever thought
a street kid

hmmm not there ...
doctor stray d almost


integreated circuit anonymity. night is youg. so called. ass cheeks talking to me. face s covered by eyes. gather grappulse of anonymity as mouth flute . crawled. over pin. enough for the young rancher to bale hay.

this is worthy real

flower of night

and day
river of flow
end hate

end yer ugly spoon
break the chai

feel the world
dont destroy


freedom of the heart

fils ia asssstizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzznnzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz


is this for your old friend TonY?
Yes, indeed it is, she's very ill, or sick ~

is that your head, o r lost humour? yes.

we laugh to stave of f divy folly. without an audience .

what good is yer laughter?
she wears the bobby sox of beauty.
she goes to her bed

hand hovering sex radiant
in the room of her bed ~

~ heart stir ~

__________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________

is that real things yer talkin? real? what's real? the dalai lama? the tibetan book of the dead ~ a soultaking 40days to cross to the light? a beauty? what is reel? yer illusion? bone of my bone flesh of my flessh


vivid discussion about relations, marriage, same sex relations . at irte radio one
~ whats funny about is to hear people trying to rationalize what cannot be.
love's not rational, ever ~ . heaD&HerT are not the same & dont love or look the same road.

covenants of desire.
how do they cross river and sea

but you doctor d, almost, you often allude to becomings punishment by your demonic idea of god, how can you speak of a thing you don't believe in....

Its not beleief, its experience, or really it's a process, an experience of something which I feel Im at the end of, the result, a punisment economic or otherwise, a force of desire pushed me out. yes, that started when a kid. being snatched from my the family ,,, against their will,
forced to live in other's homes, and my sad mother, devastated, forced by the catholics to give up her other child unborn as well, child out of wedlock, a bastard, right, adopted, and I, fostered into homes, french-canadians i never loved and never loved me either in return, now shame is your dominant mode of existence. tht my fine fair feckled friend is not a resenment it 's a fact.

re same sex :~love i think people are more bothered by the idea of two men married as they imagine anal sex and imagine shit,,,

whereas with two women in same sex relations they dont picture anal sex sodomy or shit .

that difference is a difference which 'same' sex so called lovers cannot be reduced to. one cannot reduce. one has to seduce.

one is seduce love reduce as difference is the payment of god's love. Not That one. you spoke of above ~.

the love is what I speak difference the day hour the claw
planes fly over Ireland low cloud
i hate d that country canada
i am not canadian
i am not any country
i was never part of the canadian fantasm



lethe moon

the moon

takes everyone away

the counterfeiters

See last night. witha friend. I like it. but wasa bit late . first ten minutes? had to find a seat in dark ~ hahaha~anyhow, this trailer i like better than the english and other.s its german polish my two favorite lingo~ and fer someone with linguistic leprosy that' sperfect. dig it.

its already sunday ~ that means ~ death is coming ~
what ? on earth are you talking about?
perish the thought, im famished of hunger ~

good music here tonight good conversation



why you keep talkin about tears? when you got le sacre?
who speaks of prison
i pay rent
for this gaol

& the gaoler bangs around when


tears 'n tears

your face
off ~

sister veronica ~

[beside that not

sacre that



not a dummy
i might be interlocutor
or ventriloquist
but dummy?


over at gotta move ~
----------------longest stupidest winter of a decade . no fun. dude. none at all. its getting boring. no wonder people go _________________________|
SouTh |
you gotta move
walkin in metro
last night
them word
that song
in my head

You got to move
You got to move
You got to move, child
You got to move
But when the Lord
Gets ready
You got to move(guitar)

You may be high
You may be low
You may be rich, child.... (I dont get the whole song or refrain in my head jes bit)
You may be po'
But when the Lord gets ready
You've got to move...

(these bits
You se

But when the Lord gets ready
You got to move.[Missippi freD MacDowell wroted them song word]

_______________ that goold old blues song say it.
and say some some about life and move. what is lord. but you gotta move. what you gotta move. move your gotta move your lord get ready.


at the bus stop in cold big black woman beside to right
to my left smaller phillipino woman
im hummin tht tune to stay warm

as well
few minutes before

im humming half singing BUt tonight I just want to be here and be with you|
no reprieve dumb city
what then will be yer fate
yer lost lonely couples
where to ?


a little pain inmy side
these days
ached to back
backed to ache
knee sore
body's weak

cutting a t the limbs
tired at the toes
lonely as the doors

Man wasn't meant to live alone
Adam was not made to be alone

So if Adam's wasn't created to be alone
when a man's a alone he's punished
by that mean old god
who cuts him down in his prime
as he joins the heap of hu manity alone
living between screens


What kind of lover is that, god?
what sort of life, that?
thanks, god,,, thanks for making me alone
,, an d alone ,,,

banish punish

its not fun
busted up
like that on the bones of alone ~

what does god do all the time
to make such plans and cut them on the cost of the human being's head?

to say nothing of his cock
& his heart
withering with the glance of days and night
a truck does better


than that
i guess im being punished
for being part of the capitalist

like a butt
on the
that gets

fucked out
is that it, Mister daddio god?
is that why you feel sorry for yourself,
that you punished me ?
exile internal and external
is that the punishment ?
house arrest as it were?
me and Aung San Suu Kyi

house arrested in a sentence of death
you cant love stuck in the backyard of yer dead beat pen

or the prisoner let out to smoke one hour a day?
is that it too? is that yer idea of fun?
and we're only just starting
what about the gas chambers?
sub degree zero labour camps?

o we touch brush lightly on all these monsters
and things, knowing full well,

full well ,,

full well ,,

well full ,,

ask ..

Ask me ,, would a lover speak of anything

but your hips ,, the way I saw ,, from a distance ,,
decades ,, miles ,, imagined ,, swooning ,, lovers ,, lipstick ,,, red ,,



inside a body
wearing veils

your eyes

I scant the night
wearing your veins

hoped fo

a desert of bodies

~ disappearing breath night
appearance disappearance ~


I always think of you as reclining

in that pose
laid back
cherubs flying things
around you & yer lips
~ & your deeps
hidden flyin g into you
never ending ~ you~
a desire for ~ all everything & me climbing in
all over your beauty breathless
limbs longing hands around
& yours around too~
nameless these secrets
that 're public


Would I disappoint your beauty
me satyr hungry to gnaw at you
nibble lips speak words that can't be said
or around your waist then farther down
d ~aring this thrill between both sets of lips
& your hips hugging me
man of your legs
child of your legs
man of your body
man to your woman
like this

stravinsky rite of spring


as night is day

SeeqPod - Playable Search

he the music wizard.
this music always.
since ever.

_________ keep dancing ______________________________________________

how long have you been in prison now?
I dont know i cant remember its been too long
doing the dishes so long dont remember where my tears end
and the dishes start
you get many visitors?
_______________ visitors? whats that. i cant have guests here. i cant even
getout never have anyone .
hmmm i see , so did you choose this?
choose? who chooses? choose ... hmmm funnny idea,
as if a man would choose unhappiness...yer a strange ...
yes. yes. i know



in the old days eclipse was moment change ,, shift of br ~

or take peanut butter for instance, and its glasses, bottles, over year,,

what is that?
radio too ,, as radio is raide d controlled by corporate big dude baron ~
You are peasant serf to this ~ SO Blog has become the new fast print of early 21~
like print was in early 20 c. I think. When doing radio I saw air wave as freedome
behind. glass. at micropphone. but now radio is controlled byby force closure. time to go and go itopen door stone as fall t o flung its open seed~

now what is this which controll ticket?
why is metro slow and bus more more . line up longer. you
wait and wait this breath which breathes death capitalist tree~


headlines missles senators cash crazed votes married un sung soo rhymes of love and cloud
exclude m~ rigged life breath
detention tention tension

you're watched in the subway
ye r email' s read
yer calls are read
yer watched
and monitored
yeayea yea
itsall for the good
of the best
and bleary
is it



soliders here and there wounded and shot
bodies caught in

death's steel embrace
dying alive
the globe

wh~ a t 's at s'tak'e


the bifurfaction across the psyche is a cranium of doubting and love~

when does Guattari machine praxis and theory machine Deleuze end? is ending starting across tiny quantum flows of energy?
I..... still have no control over this other world of systematic academic work, secret programing over dozens of years.
I lack too much.

Too much lag has accumulated.

Habits acquired that
I manage too poorly to discard.
Everything I do is a mess.

I would have to go back twenty-five years ...

These comments are from the man who becomes the most active force of politics, and avidly flung threw himself across activity over activity
a man whose ideas are only half taken yet ~ the praxis of these ideas, for inst ance in ,psychiatry , has not even remotely scratched the surface of contemporary practices. 'lags' between new ideas and practice are gigantic inhuman and meanwhile those who go back and forth to the hospital and so called 'mental health' system are chopped up adn cut up between the varied diagnostic labels ls (so-called nosologies) and the water down practices of therapies mostly medication interventionist style and litle of any valuable therapy of any sort ~


same guy is working toward the Kafka book
and One Thousand PLateaus

man authored half a dozen books
worked la Borde
________________________what is interesting is the problem of transversing and the work across domains.

the bifurcation across the psyche is a cranium of doubting and love~


now those words speak volumes of truth

Guattari journal 10/13/72 from Antioedipus papers 404 eng. trans.

written about 8 months or after the publication of Antioedipus

Gilles Deleuze
and Guattari's own first book Psychoanalysis and Transversality .

The man says he cant do the sort of work his friend Deleuze does. He differentiates himself as not being systematic ~ or organized. a recurrent theme motif~
cross posting this differing version at guattaricomplex


"Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves." - (William Pitt, 1783)


the city

the city was
crazy tonight
was it any wonder moon eclipsing
as it is

alf clouded eye of dark

cover its face
22 degreeS below zero


the city crazy today
so was I


Otwierać Wasz serce
Otwierać Wasz serce
Otwierać Wasz serce
Otwierać Wasz serce
Otwierać Wasz serce
Otwierać Wasz serce


tried to read guyotat's coma but
finding im bored
hes not so bright
as id thought

I recall passages in Miller he's writing about the effect of Polish language
this effect Slavic into resonance of my cell and bones. what strange elemental desire is this?


tried to read guyotat's coma but
finding im bored
hes not so bright
as id thought


english translation:Open your heart ~

'text messaging'

text messaging . fascintating concept. return of text ? we're not sure. but what a flow of word.
is it so? who know. is a verse a text message? is a text a message? message is not verse? denotation and connotation ~ mass text mailing list. what is the mass of verse . prolific.

in Kenya, text messaging is force of politic. to point where government consider shutting down~ but companies intervene sending text message of peace neighborliness and friendly.
text message. message. one find love. but question of free speech and liberty of spee ch. does naming dehumanizing so the . in spite of warning. text message . if the generation of hate and community of hate. by way of language. incite recite concite. one has to find agape. neighbour comunity. principle. if one cannot find this .

the theory people
're gonna love this ~
if they've nt al~read[y]



an d them previous turns? well? sheesh ~
[speaks [easy] to a kettel drum]
[drum roll of america
tie of night
mouth of lathe
abstract of breast
rubbing of ass cheeks]

[eyes speak to you
cheeky boy you are
as ass cheek eyes speak
mouth of Mondrian]
you need coffee
goes without saying

I fictive recal[ing] _ turn

I fictive recallin'

turn your head lover
so we can stand alone
outside of that blue moon
searing us two moon lovers

two ghost babes

phantoms to our pleasure ~


Winter's been your lover
death your night
your breast opens my body
my mouth circling your taste
its taste pulls me round the room
turning my body on
brings me back life breath
pant across your stomach
as you hold my shoulders
i find another space between your tummy
and lips

secret harbour of lover

O these words wont do as I miss you . Miss me? we never yet. but we do and do. always each lapsed day of

your legs back and forth
my hands around your knees

lots good excepting im doobting secret harbour of love[r]
what the hunky hell does that mean?]

Ok: "hidden harbour of lover?
harbour hiden secret stink of lover?
stinky hidden harbour of lover
Yeah,a nd whats with the british spelling, yer not british?

Hmm hidden stinky harbour of lover dover stinky harbour of her harbor of secert

no hide out lover lives in the harbour



was that

was that blow blow your winter wind?
you say blow?
as in Blow?
a flute
a blow job?
flute lob?
flute blob>??????
is this sensible as addenda?
nor kempt collects of reasonable suppositions?
If Jill knew her way out of that, she'd be almost belief. As it
was not I which said farewell but seeding grains
to farrier wheat

so you , do mean, blow job

~re: there was

RecallToPoetry: there was
and that?


Tell me the secrets of your body
I know them anyhow,
but hearing your whisper hurried between your glance back to me
as I lean add to your scandal
our stuff
Yer hair runs down yer shoulders
Is that how I say it?

Come on I miss every narrow gap of your body

verses ....her~E & ther~e - fictions of I

Old saint's SPinoza 's name gave a bad dream to a lady ~
Now we dont' want that
we dont want that
we do dont dont dont

We want everyone to have good dreams
chock a bloc with colours
& good food
en' to steal a quote from
Keats more happy love more more happy love!

for everyone
Pure gish-gush sentimentalisms, no less.
O Purely indeed fictive . Subjectivity I's Le MoiJe .
Welcome to your studio ~ lover boy ~


there was


there was and there was not was an was not wa ...not

getting the effects in a bl'g's always funny. when does other start and
stripped malls
its a music
not a word
a song's not same
as word written speaked speakened if it come outta her hips
roughing the sidewalk
was that it?
coming along like dreaming dreaming two tone colour


pure recall to poetry is fictives

pure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to all to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry isespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to all to fictivespure recall to poetry is fictivespure recall to etry is fictives

So Doctori Angelii D: tell quoi turn is it? Is it fictives as recall to fictions of guattari et deleuzeio?
yes yes what thinkest thou I speak in the I's own nameing? what nameing can become its body over virtual whoring. we know bloggism is viralfigureof rhetoric as which to want is ease to witch and whence thencing
and Baddy Poesy? well?
Of course you jackanape ass. all bad poetry is bad.
He loves me he love me. knot.


bad poettry

bad poetry is so obvious. its as if a fat lunch came eating
its name.

come com....e

come come let us publish our bad poems.

but joyously with a rat's needle tail laughing
at the previous idiot's and their isms of art
their little over the top manifestos
a hundred and more years late
with their fingers up their arses
the smell o f the ir ow n caca
stuckup their noses,
and their too too soon marriages
and their year or two in foreign schools,
and their failed sexual conquests, and the
weak neurosis of manipulation and
those creature of resentment _ political activists
or those whose blogs are an endless stream of comment comment commment

Yes lets do our bad poetry
our poetaster's best

those middle class wankers
of art and job and their finger licking good
ass wipe and chopped liver brains
& their lily livered gutted

and they forget their becomings
or never knew becomings became

and the night was a pure white linen
and their assholes shone through

136. Blow, blow, thou Winter Wi

from As You Like It ~
when I was a kid as I stumbled over
these verses it was the melody
& rhythm which caught my ear
and the sense of its sorrow, &
and its bitter
~ later reading the play, not
lately it changed the context
but not the sense of its
truth ~ the sense of hurt
before ingratitude which is
akin to King Lear's ~
the words are ringing yet
how often I've heard them
repeated in this head,
as for heart,
well heart, yes,
"the heart above all things is deceptive"
~ one knows and never knows the heart ~ .
BLOW, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen, 5
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly. 10

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp 15
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Naturally that was written by W.S ~
In the 1844 Manuscripts (K.Marx)there is an essay
where he uses the phrase "heartless in a heartless world"


who recognize who?

everyone is supporting recognizing somebody and other. yes, yes, yes. no no no.

fidel le fideL l step down ~

Wisconsin primary is prime

[and the charming disarming 'honesty'
of canadian liberal turnabouts...]

pieces of new new new
old old
country noncountry
presidiing president
election confection

yea yea
wont you go
go go winter
go go with your snow
and slow
hot cold
no snow
tired of snow
of winter coat
winter go
winter go coat

Let us go to
Blue Bayou

I like to dance yea I like to dance
and dancin' to this song it's not that easy !
but its a good old song that I remember from the 70's ...
sitting around Mama's Pizzeria with a couple of friends
throwing a quarter in the jukebox and listening to Linda Ronstadt
sing and heart breaking her rendering tunes ~

nextings passings

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ as nation unto nation makes war. die for nothing , thousand s ~
~~in this unkind world of "kindness" and co-sharing ~ here are molars chewing on minors

Take It From Achilles

war is shite~

Ism world
ism after ism sickening whole planet.
Ism planet and its deaths.spreading sickness &
disease everywhere in this worl ~ d .~

Saga of Injustice and Hypocrisy
independence in the brave new world ordure

Kosvovars and Serb clash sword? will mouth ofold and new meet and war again?

prb is . none's independent all're interdepending . prb. of becomings and nations .

make war there leave homeless here some gov others 're gove~d

thousands say


Chomp Chomp mountains eat
their teeth gobbling up men of war and peace

a mon[ a]vis~2

intensity of affect~ represents ~ ultimate speed~

a mon[ a]vis

if these probs. are not sorted out among artists, then the social principles on which art & literature are founded, will founder. indeed they are, and the becoming loss is what need rescue. as the literary social machines are intimate connect~ed. Intimate its connect to s
peed bridgeof thought

Which comes first, the social or the literary but also the
content and the form, or the poem ?

"Why these words, paranoia and schizophrenia, which are like
talking birds and girls' first names? Why do social investments follow
this dividing line that gives them a specifically delirious conten.t (recreating
history in delirium)? And what is this line, how can ~e s.ltuate
schizophrenia and paranoia on either side of it? Our a~sumptlOn IS th~t
everything happens on the body without organs; but thiS body has, a~lt
were, two faces. Elias Canetti has clearly shown how the paranoiac
organizes masses and "packs." The paranoiac opposes them t~ one
another, maneuvers them.* The paranoiac engineers m~sses, he IS th~
artist of the large molar aggregates, the statistical formations or greg~nousnesses,
the phenomena of organized crowds. He i~vests everything
that falls within the province of large numbers. The night of the battle .....

this from A/O 279/eng trans.
Yes the battle of glory fame? Mister power point paranoia poetry?

In poesy prob. of paranoia and schizo language of deterritorialiZations. where is the body of organs of poetry?
the paranoia of poetry and its continual channt the whine heard among writers about nt reeaching mass? who want mass?
mass for the dead?||||

__________________________> About escape:
problem always of group:models of conviviality needed
What is this escape? The
word is poorly chosen to please. Courage consists, however, in agreeing
to flee rather than live tranquilly and hypocritically in false refuges.
Values, morals, homelands, religions, and these private certitudes that
our vanity and our complacency bestow generously on us, have as many
deceptive sojourns as the world arranges for those who think they are
standing straight and at ease, among stable things. They know nothing of
this immense flight that transports them, ignorant of themselves, in the
monotonous buzzing of their ever quickening steps that lead them
impersonally in a great immobile movement. An escape in advance of
the escape. [Consider the example of one of these men] who, having had
the revelation of the mysterious drift, is no longer able to stand living in
the false pretences of residence. First he tries to take this movement as

his own. He would like to personally withdraw. He lives on the
fringe .... [But] perhaps that is what the fall is, that it can no longer be a
personal destiny, but the common lot."

That is where politics, poesy and the civic begin. thus the doom of the subjecvitiists lyristic type of versers and the difference between these and Pound Tzara Joyce and others of the larger formation collective un conscious destiny of poetry the city


meta|Pure Affirm

_________________ does it standin'back of all this?________________________
there not enuff schizoanalyis in what done. its all analytical analversing. caught in the totem pole anality and old mummy dadddy shites. gangs of geeks with heads up arse. not mutual hand in asss. or handing hold acoarse dame and gaze.

and silence around yer work?
work 'I" did in fictions was joy. its not sort of clear, to me , but a good measure vivid, that them that write in large bucket, er , are not happy, that they are ill, unable to speak, and thus their words are become precious sickness to their ass. they like scent of farts. head in ass? its obvious england has become something it had not foreseen it lost whatever energy of flight it had. its so called self image crushed under shadow ofits former empire. america is no the same. their
I also dont think theres silence around 'my work' as such , as if a contour of silence existed. 'my work' is communism. pure communism. its a quanta, in other words. the problem is the I, and how language reinjecting daily its quanta of I exclusiion. thus pride and power. the I versus the Molecular. MOlarity and Isness of becoming.

is that the artists, poets are imperialists as their corporate kiings gods, and master are. which is why americans are violent repressive and destructive in their relations to each other poesy. the idea of principle and friendship among poets is barely understood or articulated.
canadian s are as wicked as welfare canada coucil granting system divided conquer leaves exclusiions machines in place. this candada has other. thing two. language conference. native multitude outside now want inside yet, outside at same moment.

U general about candadada as wth angleterre and us.a
yes of course I general. we need this comment as marker of discuss. start not end.

consumer is m .d ogma. bodiee~

have you any suggestions for change?
Yes, but nothing global merely local: here is suggestion: surrender: give up: stop fighting; remove mask: develop principles for unity and forward change: if not same wil continue, if not worse....

appear many used to blog with have now resorted to the boring games . i see across the distant fog of blogland~ poetry sans emotion, in other words other , dead poetry~
But you dont usually talk about the negative why now|

Between thing one speak. After some year doing this. "I" speak. i who speak is not Me . anyhow. what is Me which speak? Not me Not Me No t Me ~Who am I?

Who is this I who speak. ?
clue not I. clueless not I ~


student tunred bittersock
reject from standard fancy of publication.dejecta of schoolarly.
want governergeneralgranting
failures. deniers of voice. elegance. naysayers of elegance.
cowards before discourse & discuss
meta games of language not. poetry. not certainaly the sort to
hear ~ its easy one take one of theirs and one of other
time to absorb


so c bernstein and ||Dont usually like to refer to names but this is reference: as such :

but yer generalaizing totalaising doing what youI say youre
not doing!

contradiction: indeedindeed is password:
end manifesto idear go for regular progammes and principle of creatings.
everything second generational derivative of this babble. no emotion.
so their imitators in blogs, espec. by them that do not directly know the work of LANGUAGE poets. |who speaks there? |||

||| a essayist but his poety as such llulls these ears to sleep.
one mstakes the screeches of pain for poetry.

not merely his work, but whole gang and their youthful thousand of imitators.

then there are the cause artists: them that scream visually or otherwise for everyones' cause but their own. bores.
repeaters. mostly .

indeed what one sees is a lack of mastery of craft of opinion of elegance, or rhetoric, oratoray. elocution. when would be versers make a dogma of not reading their work aloud or not p ublishing in print, we

Know we are up against Neurossis self justiifed suicide ambition disgusied as reason. all this and more is the pretence that ills the brain.

-----------------IJe wish all these idiots well. but wishing inthe wishing well of poetasters so-called and evadin' neurotics is like pissing down a wel l infinitely empty and filled with shit and malarkey at same time.


So Jill merry made her brain. Gerrymandered not over sickness, neurosis or kindness. fictive epistems are their to create identity release not redudant repetition of old experiment.s

End battle : formation of principles:
create first principle of co-creation
____________________ Thought
PUre OptiMist
for all this
Pure Opti


standin'back the this it is nightdoes
the this it is nightdoes standin'back
nightdoes standin'back this the it is
nightdoes is standin'back this the it
it the this standin'back nightdoes is
it is this standin'back the nightdoes
is nightdoes the this it standin'back