burned by the block
a paradox plagued by steroids
would move the clarity of Marduk
who was being conceived in a noose of thought.
drugs bid love. my blanket replied with the hope
of my throat. false definitions covered by vomit.
you would pray smooth. understanding the first
bright change could be your last. serving the god
object. all of those operators. foiled by reality.
nurture the symptoms. they scurry to cover.
their reflection in a book. an infection of flesh
along the prism of the centroid. back to what it
must be like to be a book. locked in a repeating
circle. haunted humans playing to be bought.
they eat their fears from pornographic cancers.
acquired from a divine seed buried beneath
a ruthless tree.
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)
Sunday, January 23, 2011
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