Computer poetry is warfare carried out by other means, a warfare against conventionality and language that has become automatized. Strange as it seems, our finite state automata have become the poet’s allies in this struggle, the long historical battle by which mankind pries into the surface of language to reveal its latent mysteries… R.W. Bailey, Computer Poems (1973)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Crime Scene
Best sorceror I've ever knew. Is that a nebula or a stimulus? No use so the puppet got out. Atom apples on this abnegation may be closer than they appear. One wanderer steps into a landfill and finds a wonderer in a fudge factory. We wrapped his passivity in a pattern. He was carrying the syndrome of a sympathy on his feedback. That's what I call a masklike smudge. We dislodge the abnegation in accummulated rewritability. Do you want another appeal? No thanks? He was a troubled mainline named NighTmAre. But his friends all called him Warren. It's not just dusk that made him disappear. It was Jimmy the Fit who squandered him from a relaxed distance. Where did damnation come from? (he'd always ask) The cradle, I imagine, I'd reply. Is this not the sleeplessness of freedom?
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