Eggs salivate in the pan – and
all mistakes that remain are mine
THE WORLD IS ALL THAT IS THE CASE
is no materialist take –
I am condemned simply by not
having violence trapped in my name
as a deed weaves you to the state
as a wave talks upon the beach
At night I play videogames
at night the storm rolls over us
inside us in static, forget
it says, forget the world, and fear.
In the day I go to the car
which has cut us off from the past
through rhythm and distance, and dream
(in trying to claw some short rest)
of moments in videogames
where I could have performed better
these performances being real
(At least outlined like a series
of logical atoms.) The game
is all that is the case, and I
have made the world mine. Thus I pass
over everything in silence
When I was what you could call ‘virulently atheist’ I remember warding off any future professions of faith with great vindictiveness. What did I expect? I imagine it was a form of self-reinforcement.
I would say… if, in the future, I profess faith, then you can know that it is truly a mistake. As if to protect and account for my future self, who would undoubtedly have gone through an incredible transformation.
I’m still atheist, I’m just a lot more materialistic about the cultus now. Now, I would say of my future self – if he professes faith, just be kind to him.
Say NO! to hysteria
Metre and syllable limit are machines to make beautiful language, or good poems. There are others, among them actively thwarting metre and syllable limit. These machines routinely break down, when they are not understood as machines.