to show the simplicity of
a crowns of thorns
doors sustain the fluency of quartered men. their bowels burning before them. the stench of putrid burning flesh.
they desired to be governed.
the general has functionaries.
the specific, a given.
harmony master arises interior
to our hard display
the desire to endure
with measures bending
the nameless divide
from here the city looks like an egg. begging to be pe/ne [fertilized] t/r/at/e/d.
the resonance of a messiah. dances beyond measure.
the ether is filled with dreams. hopes and fears. populations take refuge here. lack after in one. lump sum.
to follow lean. back after the sunrise. runs red in one who must not fear.
the small beginnings. works. hosts. starve. if we can hold fast to attain nothing undone always has no other bends.
the one must not be weary of
small populations shadow death
in our field
ways attacking bonds
labour creation; heart to procure
root constant object Now actions
saga/city appear us fills non-interference
water down rid functions merit
an object's crevice
as if we were
to all things
service
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)
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
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