xxxxxxxxhis enraptured final hush
and multiply itxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxand ruin the fruit
of his mother's laborxxxxxxxxxxx
by the lamentations of the nauseous. a man fails with a boy's cry. the tears of his mother fill tubs with blood in which to drown her young. her menstrual cycle was patterned on the radial velocity of the moon and so her son became a necromancer. a failure, who fetishized the body into pieces.
deeply paperlike kisses
blowing ashes in the wind
and then he would whisper
his torrential teleology
to the tinman, an alchemist
a shell of a man
a moribund effigy
awaiting translation
in the moisture
of his undead mother
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, March 31, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts
-
at the root of silence. paused a powder. rolling backward over the gutter. & dissolved in anOther’s eyes. & a chest secretly envied ...
-
they say the door opens inwards push as you will it will not budge & there is no lock so the key cannot be gasped nor felt ...
-
the LORD's house called time furnace tender Gilgal ( gate of desYre ) place of blood out where foreign gods preach through their te...
-
under a magnifying glass a flame becomes a fountain hands reaching for the stars at right angles to the moon clouds now blankets l...
-
It's becoming, in light of recent police aggression, understood by most, that it is not the gun that is worthy of our fear, but the bad...
No comments:
Post a Comment