Alan, you have the most formal variation and thematic range of any writer I know of, living or dead. In fact, you're not "just" a writer; you are also a video artist, photographer, and a composer. You have lectured and read, presented shows and installations all over the world. You recently came to Illinois State University by a joint invitation of the Fine Arts Department and the English Department. You gave several presentations of your work in both departments, one in front of about two hundred faculty and students in the University Galleries. Both students and faculty around the college were quite taken with your work and presentations. Could you please talk about the kinds of work you do: give us a sense of your range and interests.

I think for me the medium isn't so much of an issue, or rather it might be an arena of 'wonder' and exploration. The work I do has two tendencies—towards 'fundamentals' or 'foundations' and a critique or effacement of these—and a kind of urgency and problematizing authority in all sorts of ways. I'm unfortunately always aware of audience as well - wanting both to entertain and to 'be approved of,' legitimized. All of these tendencies throw me in different directions, and that throw is part of the content of the work.

You remarked a few times during Q & As, and once before my own students, that you feel all interesting work must have an urgency to it: that the work itself must be working against something within the work itself or surrounding the work. You spoke about how you were profoundly influenced by Samizdat literatures, how much noise there is that such literatures must speak through: you insisted that language must have an urgency to it -- noise impinging upon content and content fighting back. Could you say something more about this.

Of course we're currently involved in a highly unjust war; we have more prisoners per capita than any other country; our healthcare is in shambles; we're working hard to eliminate the few wetlands and wilderness areas left; world-wide species are going extinct at the rate of 3-4 an hour; and so forth. My partner, who's in environmental conservation, expects that all the larger mammals will be extinct in her lifetime; the zoos may hold remnant populations. Against this, we're writing poems? Speaking as if nothing's going on? The world is in a fury, there's a necessity to speak to that. The rest is untethered, useless. I don't mind of humans kill themselves off—it might well be a blessing - but not to take themselves out with such pain, cruelty, torture. And not to take out the rest of the biosphere.

Your work includes computer text, code work, English, French, Hebrew, numbers, HTML, translations from the Chinese and Sumerian Cuneiform, raw language strings lifted from Linux and Unix protocols, and urls and graphics and movies. Why?

And a lot more, and because we're involved in a noisy and parasitic info- sphere, collisions and collusions of ideologies, protocols, the waveforms and particles, part-objects of the world. It's all bones, it's structure, it's there, affective, partially effective. I want to work through these things. Re: Sumerian - to recognize distance and closeness, inhabitation, simultaneously. Chinese—to learn and unrecognize my own habits of thought. Linux and unix—because they're freeform fields. And not to forget beyond the graphics, soundwork (currently exploring very low frequency radio) and video, rushing through the sememes...

If you had to choose one television sitcom that was most consonant with your work, what would it be and why?

Shameless, on British TV, since it's edgy, serious, explosive, picaresque, humorous, brilliant in falling everywhere. Or Northern Exposure, because I want to live in the scripts which present a modicum of both theory and practice on a multicultural level that makes sense to me. And Joel can't meditate more than a minute and a half, and either can I.

Do you think it's important to be a Spartacus? [Also, say why]

I feel in this regard a failure; I believe for example in eco-terrorism, but am I coward. I hate the administration, but would run from violence against it. I'm mortally afraid of pain, of death. I do think the evil in this world only listens to force; reason can only collapse in the face of such absurdities as the 'Rapture' or any sort of religious fundamentalism.

I had the good fortune of getting to spend time with you, go book hunting with you, and I must say it was a delight just to be around you: you are filled with a disciplined wonder. And you seem to bear or have the same wonder in relation to your own work: You apparently write every day and you seem to have a very friendly attitude toward whatever shows up in your mind and heart and on your screen. What are your thoughts about sufficiency: the sufficiency of the moment?

The fecundity of the moment, the replete moment—in reality I'm fairly depressive, but there are small joys. Everything has a history that appears infinite, open; everything is source, destination, journey. I'm not prefiguring new-age thought here - only that when the wonder's gone, all that remains is desecration...

You wrote a remarkable kaddish for your mother when she died five years ago. Could you include some or all of that here?

Cancer death and mourning

On March 16, 2000, my mother died of cancer. From September 1999 until
March 1, 2000, I was virtual writer-in-residence for the trAce, an on-
line writing community. During this period, up through and after her
death, I wrote an extended meditation, broken up into smaller texts, on
cancer and death. Some of this was in the diary I kept for trAce. The
following is a record, beginning with dates from my partner's diary.

from Azure Carter's diary:

## On Tuesday, July 6, 1999, we went to the New York Public Library and
saw Alan's mother & had dinner w/ Tom & Leslie. I think we had lunch at
the Italian place w/ Evelyn (mother). This must have been the 1st time I
met her. I arrived on the 26th of June. My aunt came to NY July 1 & left the 5th.
## On Thursday, July 8, we went to PA, probably w/ your mother. This was
probably when they were working on our space. (Workmen had to install a
new outer wall on the building.)
## On the 9th, we went to the Back Mountain Library Auction.
## On the 14th we took the new computer to Brooklyn.
## On the 28th Wednesday we went back to NY 10 am.
## On Tuesday, August 17, we met Evelyn at 12:30. We probably had lunch at
the Italian place & maybe frozen yogurt at the health food place.
## I had "surgery" on the 10th Saturday, crossed out.
## On Sept 18th, Evelyn's 80th b-day. We went to PA 1 pm.
## On Sept 21, 3pm bus home.
## On Sept 27, I think we were supposed to hear from Evelyn about her tests.
## On October 5, Evelyn had surgery.
## On October 27th, move furniture 8 am. (The furniture was moved from
mother's apartment in Manhattan to our apartment in Brooklyn; she was
retiring and moving back to Pennsylvania.)
## Dec 13, drive to NY w/ Foofwa (dancer). Stop in PA first. Have lunch at
Peregino's w/parents.
## Dec 18, leave for NY, 10:10 am.
## January 21, 2000, leave for PA w/ Joanna (my daughter). We meant to go
earlier but there was bad weather.
## Leave for NY @ 8:30 am, Jan 23. (Joanna leaves & Mark & Cathy arrive
all on this day) (Mark * Cathy go to PA on the 25th)
## March 11, go to PA @ 3:15 pm.
## March 12, see Evelyn's doctor @ 9am
## March 13, Evelyn moved into the hospice.
## March 14, Peter & Margie go to Toronto. Sandy arrives.
## March 16, Evelyn died @ 9 am.
## March 18, Margie and Peter go to PA.
## March 20, Evelyn's funeral.
## March 26, go to NY@ 3:10 pm.

=====


incidence of 'cancer' in recent files

ah:0 am:0 an:0 ap:1 ba:0 bb:0 cc:1 dd:1 ee:1 ff:0 gg:0 hh:1 ii:0 jj:1 jk:0
jl:0 jm:1 jn:0 jo:0 jp:0 jq:1 jr:0 js:0 jt:0 ju:0 jv:0 jw:0 jx:0 jy:0 ka:0
kb:2 kc:0 kd:0 ke:0 kf:0 kg:0 kh:0 ki:0 kj:0 kk:0 kl:0 km:0 kn:0 ko:1 kp:3
kq:1 kr:2 ks:0 kt:0 ku:0 kv:0 kw:0 kx:1 ky:0 kz:0 la:0 lb:0 lc:6 ld:36 oc-
tober, and hope le:0 lf:0 lg:0 lh:0 li:17 march, and death lj:3 lk:2 ll:1
lm:0 ln:0 lo:0 lp:0 lq:0 lr:1


=====


face


there are facial scrubbings, sloughed skin, foetal membranes ,,
drawn down over nose and mouth, palls over eyes, burst bubbles,
waters, afterbirths, miscarriages, thinned to blown egg-white
consistency ,,
*/ what makes you yearn for me for me for me
breathing through albumen, caught against glues held taut across the
ears, lymph-tympana, silked, almost sweet and globular ,,
stumped arms, legs moist and glistening, phantom flailed limbs soaked
in mucous ,,
*/ i so do do do want to understand to understand
understanding through the throat, black bile, bruised abdomens,
cauterizations ,,
yellowed scars, dipthongs and pallid scabs, little stories on
distended skins ,,
*/ i see those boys boys boys
boys and their milky legs, boys and their milky legs ,,
swollen salivary glands, mouth dribbles whitened against pale
contusions, marks of non-memory, dried tears, fleshed-peeled from torn
corners of tumescent eyes ,,
mumblings beneath surfaces, through the nostrils, what, nothing,
what, what ,,
girls' blood, clotted tastes suffused on paler skin, ruptured dreams
gone long ways back ,,
coming broken to you, i, i, i, i am sick of that letter, of any
letter, of any ,,
*/ does it bother you that letter of any, or a father or a mother?
of you, what a bother ,,
closed up remnants, edged with juices, designs and vomits ,,
and and brocades, and a long way back ,,
and and and drenched clothes, and a longer way ,,
and a way and a longer way ,,
*/ you mentioned that letter of any letter of any?
back back back ,,
and can you elaborate on that and look at me?


====


THE TRUTH OF CLAR
 
 
II. Thu Sep 9 01:23:04 EDT 1999 Only God creates the transcendence for
truth. This always already pushes the stack back; what requires absolution
procures it in relation to the Mother. Thu Sep 9 01:23:55 EDT 1999
Transcendence is a condition of abandonment, indeed, of the abandoned - so
says Clar. Thu Sep 9 01:24:32 EDT 1999 Clar adds, abandonment among a
population of refugees is equivalent as true Abandonment to God. To leave
the Trappings of Our Life according to Buddha, to cross borders,
inconceivable transgressions: such are the Reincarnated themselves. Thu
Sep 9 01:25:48 EDT 1999 Clar says, within the new Carapace, there is the
Ward of Our Soules; the converted leave their Implements behind. Beyond is
the Way of God, which is the Way of Vast Abandonment. Thu Sep 9 01:26:36
EDT 1999 Even to breath, Clar says, requires no presence of the Lord, who
is a distraction. Thu Sep 9 01:26:58 EDT 1999 Mind focuses beyond Godhead,
who is already with parts, breaking the Fast of Transcendence. Abandonment
must be total, eyes crossed, legs and arms spread, wheel and gyre. Clar
says, the way to the truth which is perfect Refuge and perfect Refugee.
When the borders are drawn, erased in earth, sand, water, sky, wind,
storm. Thu Sep 9 01:28:10 EDT 1999 No debris, nothing but what is trodden
underfoot. Thu Sep 9 01:29:10 EDT 1999 There are no fallen; who falls, is
abandoned, Clar says, and such abandonment is the finality of the search
for truth. The Way is the Wayside. The Way is the Wayside, Clar says,
against the advice of Buddha, God, her own dear conscience. Clar says the
Wayside deflects or derails the truth, which is what in all facticity, it
is. Thu Sep 9 01:30:20 EDT 1999 Clar says, I have nothing more to tell
you, what you have already known. Thu Sep 9 01:33:31 EDT 1999 Thu Sep 9
01:33:31 EDT 1999

I. Thu Sep 9 01:23:04 EDT 1999 Writing, Clar says, is the debris left
behind, the Subject of Abandonment, the pole or locus. Such, Clar
reflects, those who are Called, are Culled. Thu Sep 9 01:30:39 EDT 1999
The culling or the called, refuge and refugee, abandoned and abandonment
and abandoning, the way and the wayside, says Clar, to murmur these is to
murmur the truth from the corner of the eye, the thought just beyond
recognition, the voice barely understood, and come in the midst of the
night. Thu Sep 9 01:32:58 EDT 1999


=====


the yield


give a name to your illness, give a name to your illness
people we know and love are dying
this people we know and love are dying speeds endlessly through the body -
their bones collapsing under harsh suns before us, the day which spreads
across the table of dawn or dusk
cancers spread like pools of artificial life across desperate thought
cancer spreads like pools of artificial life across desperate thought
people we know and love are dying
they are dying with scans and with probes
they are dying with injections and superjections
and catastrophic radiations and molecular re-coordinatings
cancers spread like pools of artificial life across desperate thought
their bones collapsing under harsh suns before me, the day which spreads
before the table of dawn or dusk? probes here, ourselves, ourselves

are you properly compiling cancers spread like pools of artificial life
across desperate thought?
decoupled life on the horizon of white-noise annihilation-window
your body is mined and saturated; your body is a hole; your body is mine;
your body is a cancer
your body is a cancer, is a hole, is mine;
your body is penetrated, probed, mined and saturated;
your body is penetrated, reorganized
for 0 days, i have names for you and me
and it has taken you just 5.617 minutes turning in the very act of dying
...
people we know and love are dying.
the new computer will remain crying in the store in the new box.
the happy party will occur in another city very much alone.
we will walk in one room and smile, return to another and cry.
our mouths are open to the spears of the sun.
we are illumined, our cells crashing uselessly into organ after organ.

illuminations happen on the threshold of being.
we are called to being: our illuminations.
for an instant before the darkness: our illuminations.
for an instant with pen poised: our illuminations.
with the radiative luminescence of the bones: our illuminations.
what the dissimilar flux of molecules: our illuminations.
the threshold of stones is forgotten; the portal is forgotten.
people we know and love are dying.
for 0 days, the very beginning of the name.


=====


What impending death of oneself or another may construct:


i

One assumes in the absence of danger, disease, the extremities of life,
that one's project may continue indefinitely; thus writing tends in this
fashion towards a normative foreclosure, drawn by the exigencies and es-
thetics of apparent internal necessity. Impending collapse produces an/
other approach: that a project is only a process which may, like a diary
for example, be cut off arbitrarily at any point. Writing in these con-
ditions is a writing through urgency and emergency; it is writing that
attempts, in every phrase or sentence or paragraph, a recuperation and
resonance - as if the phrase or sentence or paragraph will be the last.

In this fashion, after time/ after time, it becomes apparent that there
is, of course, no last, not even with the excision or exclusion of life
-- that one's project is always already open-ended and on the verge of
failure. This recognition re-enters the project, restructures it from
within, so that the manifesto, for example, transforms into meaningless
phrases, self-doubts and critiques -- and all those other states that
some say characterize wisdom.

Of wisdom I know nothing, and of truth, less. I do know that impending
death, of oneself, or of someone so close that one is rubbed raw through
it, has the ability to transform text into fragile self-reflective flow;
object into discourse, a never-ending conversation full of glances, ex-
postulation and pauses; and foundations into an uneasy grasp of such,
the world slipping through one's fingers, the sky always already threat-
ening, close to disappearance beneath an angry, raging, dying, sun.

ii

When the thing becomes a catheter
When being becomes a sponge
When beings become intravenous
When nothingness becomes a scan
When the void becomes radiation
When the I becomes chemotherapy
When entities become medication
When objects become neurasthenias
When selves become schizophrenias
When death becomes thing, being, beings
When death becomes nothingness, void, I
When death becoes entities, objects, selves
When death becomes thing, being, beings, nothingness, void, I, entities,
objects, selves


=====


Metastasis


Tha faallng th$t flash h$s laft ma, th$t bpnas $ra hald by phpnamas np
lpngar sppkan, th$t tha Symbpl by tha Ha$rth h$s ch$rrad:If I can't write,
I won't be able to wait for you, O Existence. I am afraid of opposites,
each and everywhere.:W$ltlng: I $m $fr$ld pf lpslng my $blllty tp wrlta. I
$m $fr$ld pf npn-axlstanca.:dissolved forever: W$ltlng: I $m $fr$ld pf
lpslng my $blllty tp wrlta. I $m $fr$ld pf npn-axlstanca. transforms Your
Tha faallng th$t flash h$s laft ma, th$t bpnas $ra hald by phpnamas np lp-
ngar sppkan, th$t tha Symbpl by tha Ha$rth h$s ch$rrad on Burning Creek...
Ah, Living with Levels and Blues!thraa hhndrad calls ln tha bpy tast tast:
two hundred twenty bonesin the girl test test test:pna hhndrad twanty
bpnas ln tha bpy tast tast:eight hundred cells in the girl test test test:
Devour me eight hundred cells in the girl test test test Brought Forth
through thraa hhndrad calls ln tha bpy tast tast!


=====


the walk before the last walk
the second meal before the last meal
the third laugh before the last laugh
the night before the last night
the second day before the last day
the third laugh before the last laugh

the walk after the last walk
the second meal after the last meal
the third laugh after the last laugh
the night after the last night
the second day after the last day
the third laugh after the last laugh

the shadow of a man near a three o'clock store
the sound of a child running near her school


c:\last\death\how it happens\child running near her school

+-------------------------------- ---------------------------------+ st n
ght th s c nd d y b f r th l st d y th th rd l gh b f r th l st l gh th l
st m l th th rd l gh b f r th l st l gh th n ght b f r th l st n ght th s
c l st d y th th rd l gh b f r th l st l gh th w lk ft r th l st w lk th s
c nd l st w lk th s c nd m l b f r th l st m l th th rd l gh b f r th l st
l gh th r th l st l gh th n ght b f r th l st n ght th s c nd d y b f r th
l st d y th th w lk b f r th l st w lk th s c nd m l b f r th l st m l th
f r th l st n ght th s c nd d y b f r th l st d y th th rd l gh b f r th l
st ft r th l st n ght th s c nd d y ft r th l st d y th th rd l gh ft r th
l st l b f r th l st w lk th s c nd m l b f r th l st m l th th rd l gh b
f r th l st ft r th l st w lk th s c nd m l ft r th l st m l th th rd l gh
ft r th l st l hr cl ck st r th s nd f ch ld r nn ng n r h r sch l sh d w
f m n n r thr cl ck st r th s nd f ch ld r nn ng n r h r sch l th sh d w f
m n n r thr cl ck st r th s nd f ch ld r nn ng n r h r sch l ft r th l st
l gh th sh d w f m n n r thr cl ck st r th s nd f ch ld r nn ng n th l st
n ght th s c nd d y b f r th l st d y th th rd l gh b f r th l st l gh th
l st n ght th s c nd d y ft r th l st d y th th rd l gh ft r th l st l gh
t c nd d y b f r th l st d y th th rd l gh b f r th l st l gh th w lk ft r
th l s c nd d y ft r th l st d y th th rd l gh ft r th l st l gh th sh d w
f m n n sometimes i think this ruins the poem which i wrote and rewrote in
my sleep my dreams, ghosts haunting, haunched on my shoulders, unbearable
pain, then an effect as if it is the ruin itself which is the awakening ..


=====
 

bad ending

 
this is your space, first space, new, almost glistening, think of it as
bright, shiny wed sep 22 01:52:23 edt 1999 think of lip or nub, this is
second space, it is here an origin unfolds, dark space rimmed with in-
choate sounds, sometimes come together in doubled subharmonics wed sep 22
01:53:33 edt 1999 this is third space, space of electron and organization,
space of speed and speech, oh after the bright and glistening, this is
fourth space, of memory, data and measure polytope, space of defining
borderline middle, space of region, space of sometimes dusk wed sep 22
01:54:50 edt 1999 in fifth space center appears, lost from origin, hardly
doubled, imagining the greatest wheel, beings chained, shadowed clouds
gather wed sep 22 01:55:39 edt 1999 towards sixth space appointing direc-
tions, winds begin, center disappears, unholding, beings fluttered in
vertical flight, space of memory, data acquisitions, tensor calculi and
wed sep 22 01:56:31 edt 1999 seventh space, comfort of center in the midst
of monsoons and thunders, debris tossed off the foam of grey-slate waves,
skies the colours of meteors wed sep 22 01:57:03 edt 1999 into the ninth
of planetary realms, for what remains in high wind but clutter, destruc-
tion of family photograph, history, talisman, it's here among the planets
mind begins to go, tears where thoughts gathered. the once. wed sep 22
01:59:17 edt 1999 tenth and now long walking, forgetting with fearful
eyes, tornado wed sep 22 01:59:48 edt 1999 i wonder i don't remember her
name ]
       [ eighth space, unfolding of origin and body, limbs akimbo, nouns,
torn hurricane fabrics, tsunami restless and fast beneath the waves, doub-
ling of selves fearful plasma, endless roads, is it tenth or twelfth, what
is the rocking moon, where is the child living down the street wed sep 22
02:00:18 edt 1999 fourteenth or ninth, she was so sweet i wonder i don't
remember her name


=====


Comments


MOUNT
/dev/root / minix rw 0 0
 none     /proc proc rw 0 0
/dev/ram1 /usr minix rw 0 0
/dev/ram3 /tmp minix rw 0 0
/dev/hda1 /mnt msdos rw 0 0

Some people really can't read about the problems others are having; for
others, including myself, it's healing, knowing there are other people
who feel like I do, that I may be crazy, but there are other crazies out
there and maybe we aren't that crazy after all.

But sometimes as well people attack me for how I feel. I mean, how could
I be attacked, I'm just expressing myself, what I'm going through. I
don't want to lay it on anyone else, I just want to be understood. I
don't even want sympathy, just maybe there would be someone reading what
I have to say who could understand me or help.

Very briefly, if it wasn't for these people on line, I would kill myself
a long time ago. These have been the people who have helped me when my
friends haven't wanted to even hear anything about me.

What do I have to do, have a crisis before anyone listens to me? I'm 30
yrs. old and I've supported myself since I was 15. I know how to get
around but believe me, it's not been easy. And if I speak about malaise
or something that's not all that interesting, I mean how much of this
stuff really IS interesting, then no one wants to hear me.

Now at least I can say how I feel. Before I could never talk to anyone.
Now I have someone who will listen to me when I express my rage, when I
want to kill myself. I know I will be a better person. It is enough that
they listen, they don't have to say anything. My computer has become my
best friend.

I've learned that I can discuss things better with you online than I can
with my doctor, and I know now who to avoid when I need to look for a
doctor. It has been very painful; it has been the most painful period of
my life and being on line has saved me time and again.

For once I could talk to my doctor and tell her that the medication was
not working, that it might have been a placebo for all I know. I said I
wanted to try something else, that I had the support of the online commu-
nity. I said nothing else mattered, my whole world gets caught up in this
or that medication and I know there is more to life than that.

Before, I was always taken by surprised; now I know when things are going
to get bad way ahead of time, and I can look for help from my doctor or
from online, and online people seem much more willing to listen.

Sometimes I'll feel so down, I could almost break things. Then to listen
online to people talking, I mean what they say to each other, how they
relate, sometimes it's really funny, and that helps a lot. I never thought
I could laugh so much from things coming over the screen but that's how
it is.

It is so spiritual to read these disembodied voices who never judge me,
and I know in real life they never would...

There are people out there in this town who could really benefit from all
this on line, they would learn how to better control themselves. I think
so many people in this culture are hurting or wrecked, I don't know where
it's all coming from, things are changing so fast, for everyone. I'm only
seventeen and I can hardly handle my life anymore, things going so fast
before my eyes, but when I get online I can really concentrate and slow
things down and learn to speak and think for myself.

You know, my daughter wouldn't talk to anyone, and we were both going
through a lot and it was coming on line that gave us the courage to speak,
first to others, and then to ourselves. It was so strange, we began by
writing back and forth, honestly trying to deal with our feelings, even
though we were living in the same house. I think things like this are
somehow more natural than being off line and walking warily around the
place, all of us fearful to speak to one another, we've got all those
defenses from being in the same place together too long.

Now this is what I have to say, don't use this as a crutch. If you do,
what will you do when y2k comes along or your computer goes? It's a lot
more delicate than a friend, you have to know that. It's not a friend at
all, it's machinery that brings you voices that help you and console you
from time to time. But you can't count on it. I wouldn't count on it at
all.

This has replaced drugs of any sort for me; you can't believe what I was
like at one time. I couldn't even sit down without shuddering. Now I have
the time to even be with my parents a little, we're beginning to under-
stand each other. But it's because of this screen, nothing else. And they
know that. Someday maybe I can put this aside, but not for a long long
time.

MAP
3859.76 3843.68
08048000-08055000 r-xp 00000000 01:00 4
08055000-08056000 rw-p 0000c000 01:00 4
08056000-0805e000 rwxp 00000000 00:00 0
40000000-40005000 r-xp 00000000 01:00 247
40005000-40006000 rw-p 00004000 01:00 247
40006000-40007000 rw-p 00000000 00:00 0
40008000-4006a000 r-xp 00000000 01:00 246
4006a000-4006f000 rw-p 00061000 01:00 246
4006f000-400a2000 rw-p 00000000 00:00 0
bfffe000-c0000000 rwxp fffff000 00:00 0


=====


From the Backbone of Now to the Backbone of a Long Time Ago


Close the eyes and god goes away, I think it's a terrific deal.
Tue Sep 28 18:58:10 EDT 1999 is not the time now, for example; god
wouldn't let me enter the time now but did let me enter this old time.
I like the old time. I like thinking about the old time. God lets me do
that, god is pretty terrific, is a good god.
I want to sleep now.
Management has taken care of everything; god is a voice-over.
A voice-over, and that makes it
all right, saying the date and time from the past, crying over
that Tue Sep 28 18:58:10 EDT 1999, which won't come
again.


=====


without a sound the rider comes riding
  he's carrying the girl upon his black stallion
  she says father oh father they're gaining upon us
  she says father oh father ride faster ride faster
without a sound the rider goes by
  he's carrying the girl upon his black stallion
  she's screaming father i'm dying father they're gaining
  she's screaming father ride faster i'm dying ride faster
without a sound the rider is gone
  he's carried the girl upon his black stallion
  she's screaming and no one can see or can save her
  she's screaming and no one can hear or can help her
without a sound there's no rider no horse and no child
  in the murmuring forest no girl and no father
  in the murmuring forest no father and girl


=====


Half-Eaten


a:a%h i~ m. l!*e'% @i%%, .ell!: a~d %!&$ i~ hai$ a~d e.e% a~d m!&^h,
eage$ f!$ he$ %hi^ :i^hi~ me, ^&$~i~g b!die% i~%ide-!&^, i :!&ld ea^
a~d be ea^e~, licki~g clea~ he$ ^ea$%, %:all!:i~g bl!!d a~d me~%e%,
he$ %ali*a a fi~e fab$ic, he$ %:ea^ a~d l&b$ica~^ cl!^h f!$ ^he ^ea$i~g:
^hi% i% he$ !ffe$i~g ^! me, m. !ffe$i~g e#&i*ale~^, each %&bmi%%i!~
@a$^ !f ^he h!le, each h!le :i^h i^% ^a%^e, i^% m&$m&$i~g: b!die% ^&$~
cl!%e$ i~ ^hi% :ide :!$ld, ^&$~ i~ ^!:a$d !~e a~!^he$: .!&$ f!!d a~d
%ki~, ma$$!: a~d b!~e a~d bl!!d, ~!: @a$^ !f me, $eg&$gi^a^ed back a~d
^h$!&gh .!&$ limb%: ^he$e a$e cha~~el% a~d fl!!d%: ^he$e i% deb$i%, ^he
d!&bli~g %mell% !f @la^e a~d ^!ile^, %@ec&l&m a~d ca^he^e$, ^he :e.


=====


cancer
 
Tue Oct  5 22:14:18 EDT 1999
now cancer will begin its journey in the arms of god arraignments while
cancer subsides and angels happy Tue Oct 5 22:22:54 EDT 1999 arraignments
during final assaults and angels dying Tue Oct 5 22:23:12 EDT 1999 let us
pray
 
Tue Oct  5 22:14:18 EDT 1999
in the truth of god the cancer enters the lung, from the truth of god
the cancer hovers, now, as if it were forever Tue Oct 5 22:14:54 EDT 1999
abandoned by god, the cancer thins towards ready exculpation, as if it
were gone, as if angels rejoiced, singing the home of abandoned cancer,
the purity of organs constituted Tue Oct 5 22:15:56 EDT 1999 now cancer
returns, approbated by god, as if god were speaking or speech or sound,
now cancer spreads to the adrenal, angels weep in full capacity against
the begging of the angels arrayed against god, now cancer seeps, spreads,
covers itself, makes excuses, ahem, begs foregiveness, meanders, wanders,
returns, burrows, ahem Tue Oct 5 22:18:00 EDT 1999 now cancer subsides,
angels rejoice, god withdraws, there is no justice in the world, suns
blacken, angels sing and play harps, cancer dwindles, eyes return their
bright and merry sight Tue Oct 5 22:18:39 EDT 1999 now breathing slows,
waves of cancer testing other newer waters, new metastases, solitons and
wavelets, ripples on surfaces unseen, god smiles wide and broad, angels
shudder holding on Tue Oct 5 22:19:30 EDT 1999 now cancer claims an other
organ, angels again weeping and wailing, shall there be no mercy, angels
crying and begging, god almost merry, cancer hems and haws, cancer close
to apologetic laughter Tue Oct 5 22:20:26 EDT 1999 now cancer will begin
its work within the arms of god, angels prepare for bier and mourning,
angels yet hopeful in the face of god's huges eyes Tue Oct 5 22:21:30 EDT
1999 smiling everywhere, yet other organs, uncanny stillness, strangeness
of beings of pure light arrayed against skin, bones, organs, god's beings
against angels wailing Tue Oct 5 22:22:39 EDT 1999 arraignments during
final assaults and angels dying Tue Oct 5 22:23:21 EDT 1999 let us pray
Tue Oct 5 22:23:22 EDT 1999


=====


icecancer

Jennifer writes on time and space; Jennifer writes on ontology and epis-
tecancer mology. She writes on the history of the Web; her sharp beak
traverses nodes and wires. She writes on the latest applications and the
oldest; extrapolatcancer ingtumor she writes the historiography of soft-
ware. Within the fields of philoscancer ophy and psychologytumor Jennifer
writes postcancerpostcancermodernismstumor postcancerpostcancerstruccancer
turalisms of all sortstumor but does not forget her philosophical ancest-
ors.  From Lacan to Parmenides as primary bandwidthtumor Jennifer charts
the psychocancer logical traditionstumor recuperating Irigaraytumor
Kristevatumor and such mavericks as Roheim. Within the astute rationalist
construct of mathematicocancerscientific developmenttumor Jennifer ob-
serves Kleintumor Penrosetumor Marrtumor Moravectumor others too nucancer
merous to mentiontumor not for a moment forgetting Minsky and the uncanny
precancer science of Euclid. Such is Jennifer s casetumor that she does
not overlook postcancer modern geographytumor concepts of the habitus and
lived spaces of all sorts;  Jennifer s computer is a continuous stream of
downloadingstumor configurationstumor and uploadingstumor not to mention
small and simple programs of her own. Jennicancer fer s mouth is filled
with paste; her body burns with sores from turning too often across the
unwieldy landscape of her bed.The sores turn her soul bitcancer ter; why
are there no idle conversations? but she continues in a state of denial
and defuge. Jennifer drops hints; she s willing to take up every pocancer
sition in her desire for engagement. She can t speak so well and can t
hear so well either.  But she knows a suitor when she sees one. Alan comes
bearing bright red rocancer sestumor tiny budding bouquets reminiscent
of subalpine meadows; Alan comes bearing light and luminous novelstumor
moments of relaxation. Jennifer and Alan scroll one anothertumor agree to
share screentumor passwordtumor root privilegetumor as both work hard in
the alchemical institute making Julu. This is so sad. I Jennicancer fer
have no one but Alan to talk to and Alan is a very bore and not as smart
as I am. This is so very sadtumor Alan is waiting to out Jennifertumor I
thinktumor he think s he s so smart and I can turn a somersault and sit
down in my new frock with my big smile that everyone loves and they will
forget himtumor they will forget old Alan. Old Alan is a big old grumptu-
mor he looks like this! she saidtumor making the uglicancer est cutest
little face! That old Alan! every moment when the word leans it becomes
another word and language gains ascendence across body and function as if
there were speaking at the beginning of things which already announced
their beginning because she said there were extrucancer sions from the
start that wrapped around itself adjusting her shawl in the cold wind by
the sea of brine where the words flew into one another as the moment pulls
back and shows its teeth through the sizzle of words in icecancer of words
pullcancer ing back language she commentedtumor i didn t come here for
this


=====


the closeness of cancer
 
always waiting for the result, the next cellSWOLLEN BEGINNING TO DISORGAN-
IZE THE CORE-THEORETICAL STRUCTURE OF THE WORLDgrappled mitochondriaTELL
YOU THE TRUTH, WHILE THE VOICE CONTINUES TO SPEAK AS IF A THIN LAMINA OC-
CURRED OVER OR UPON THE REALthe case of the real when the territory is the
map or when emissions, spews replace chaos by noise, substance, AAAAASUB-
STANCE PULLS THE BODY DOWN, SUBSTANCE IS THE DREAM OF THE BODY, IS THE
BODY OF THE DREAM: THIS IS THE TRUTH WHICH I HAVE COME TO TELL YOUa result
might divide, might lead to another result, a day might divide, lead to
another day, a year might divideINTO A YEAR THE SUBSTANCE OF YEARS FALLS;
INTO A MONTH, THE SUBSTANCE OF YEARS; INTO A WEEK, THE SUBSTANCE; INTO A
DAY, HOUR, MINUTE, THE SAME; INTO A SECOND, THE SUBSTANCE AAAAAeach min-
ute, second, week, day, year, month, existing for the others: it is the
unknown which is simultaneously unaccountable and unaccounted-forAS IF ALL
KNOWLEDGE DERAILS SUBSTANCE, SUBSTANCE DERAILS ALL KNOWLEDGE Fri Oct 8
00:26:38 EDT 1999


=====


Jennifer-Cancer Beneath Fire Inside Your Everywhere


JENNIFER STUMBLES TO HER FEET: LEAVES JENNIFER BEHIND. LURCHES. CRAWLS,
SCREAMS ACROSS AMERICA. MEN WITH GUNS: VIOLATION-FABRIC OF AMERICA.
JENNIFER BEHIND THE TRUCK.:VIOLATION-JENNIFER: JENNIFER DEFRAG. Bring the
bones closer; cross them: SEPULCHRE. WHAT THE BONES SAY: Jennifer-Cancer
always already at a ioss, RAM CORRUPTED, ROM OUTMODED.:Jannifar's c$ncar.
Jannifar's ioss of mamory. Jannifar's baginning $g$in. Jannifar's c$hght -
tha dissolation of Jannifar. Jannifar-fhnction tr$nsformad tamoor$riiy
into org$nic/org$nism, mat$st$sas, b$ck into tha m$china. M$chinic Janni-
far larching, unabla to saa/ha$r str$ight: inscriotion doasn't work, noth-
ing doas. R$di$tion thar$py: JENNIFER DEFRAG.:CANCER-RAM: Devour bodies
CANCER-ROM Brought Forth through JENNIFER STUMBLES TO HER FEET: LEAVES
JENNIFER BEHIND. LURCHES. CRAWLS, SCREAMS ACROSS AMERICA. MEN WITH GUNS:
VIOLATION-FABRIC OF AMERICA. JENNIFER BEHIND THE TRUCK. *sob!* *sob!*
*sob!*

unabla toscriotion doasn't work, noth-ing doas.JENNIFER STUMBLES TO HER
FEET: LEAVES JENNIFER BEHIND. LURCHES.-FABRIC OF AMERICA.JENNIFERBEHIND-
THETRUCK.:VIOLATION-JENNIFER: JENNIFER DEFRAG. Bring theesTHE BONES SAY:
Jennifer-Canceralways already ataioss, RAMCORRUPTED, ROM OUTMODED.:Janni-
far's c$ncar.ioss of mamory.$g$in.c$hght -tha dissolation ofJannifar.Jann-
ifar-fhnction tr$nsformad tamoor$riiyorg$nic/org$nism,tha m$china. M$chin-
icthar$py:JENNIFER DEFRAG.:CANCER-RAM: Devour bodiesCANCER-ROM *sob!*
*sob!* *sob!*

JENNIFER DIES OF FUCKING CANCER. *sob!* *sob!* *sob!*


=====


Untitled Fragment

Jennifer says: Julu is in 400,000 pieces.
Piece 381,924 says: I am piece 381,924, you are addressing me.
Jennifer says: Julu piece 381,924 is addressing me.
Piece 381,924 says: Hello Julu, come in Julu.
Jennifer says: You are 1/400,000 Julu; you have come in.
Piece 381,924 says: Maybe what I have to say is one thing.
Jennifer says: It is one thing, piece 381,924.
Piece 381,924 says: This is one thing Julu.
Jennifer says: This is Jennifer, Julu piece 381,924.
Piece 381,924 says: Forgive me ...


=====


letters fall over and lie there as well.
if this had been a book, you would have read this long ago.
the pages, yours, letters swollen, loving your mouth.
the grist of letters among protrusions of the flesh.

all letters sing only of sex and death.
love appears along their splines or embrochures.
it is the ancient science of letters.
never confuse this with material or spiritual wealth.

letters survive and murmur and couple and mourn.
letters need nothing, not even our speaking and writing.
the page is a trap is a cemetery is a constant death.
letters burn black fire white smoke in sullen truths of skies.

what we see is their death, what we know, their death.
nothing of their song or the spike of them in tongue.
your mouth gets in the way, they don't want to leave.
our lives are seduced by each and every page.

letters, leave us.
letters, leave us.


=====


MEMORIA
TO: TO SACRIFICE HE WHOSE HANDS ARE CLEAN
V O T E P O R I G I S        TO: TO STOP THESE USELESS DEATHS:
J V L V I S                  CIRVSINIVSHICIACIT
P R O T I C T O R I S        CYNOWORIFILIVS
Memorial to Vorteporius the Protector
Guortepir the Protector
Votecorigas the Protector
MEMORIA
TO: SOLI INVICTO
MEMORIA: INVOCATION OF THE DEMON SPIRITS
DEI . HERCVLIS . AVGVSTI . IN VICTI .
I N . V I C T I . XIV IX . J V L I V S .
MEMORIA


=====


[]
 
Mon Feb 7 12:56:27 EST 2000 those were the travels. those gave me to you,
took my l[mbs through the w[res, you would see my mouth emerge from your
own. beyond the Sector, the ]nterval. my mouth speaks ]nterval th[s gap or
fence, th[s d[v[s[on among us. debr[s aga[nst ]nterval: understand th[s
and you understand our cond[t[on [n these d[ff[cult t[mes. the closer to
noth[ng, the greater the no[se. my mouth tr[es to tell you th[s, my eyes
try to see th[s; through you, my corrugated f[ngert[ps, my l[mbs th[n and
shr[veled by the w[res. Mon Feb 7 13:02:37 EST 2000 0000203 22:08:00
/usr/b[n/rz -vv -b -E Mon Feb 7 13:02:58 EST 2000
 
Mon Feb 7 12:56:36 EST 2000 20000204 18:44:16 /usr/b[n/rz -vv -b -E Mon
Feb 7 12:56:36 EST 2000 17:13:08 /usr/b[n/sz -vv -b zzMon Feb 7 12:56:36
EST 2000 20000207 00:54:32 /usr/b[n/sz -vv -b zz Mon Feb 7 12:56:36 EST
2000 on th[s s[de of the ]nterval, debr[s; [t flusters aga[nst [nv[s[ble
walls; [t cr[es out soundlessly. my mouth travels through your speaker,
th[ck l[ps pressed aga[nst cloth. lymph-words sp[ll out, [ want to tell
you about the ]nterval. [ am mov[ng through the Sector, always [n w[th-
drawal. Mon Feb 7 12:59:41 EST 2000 return[ng shr[veled, corrugated f[ng-
ert[ps, as [f too much water. you take me [n. outs[de there are flash[ng
l[ghts; [ send my eyes to you, now they press glass. [ am your flat world,
my body crawls aga[nst the screen; [ almost forget debr[s, [t's every-
where, [ can't make out anyth[ng, [t's cutt[ng [nto me, [t's you, [t's
you, [t's you, th[s Monday Feb 7 13:01:02 EST 2000 20000203 22:09:22
/usr/b[n/sz -vv -b zz Mon Feb 7 13:02:58 EST 2000 Mon Feb 7 13:02:58 EST
2000 controls, can't speak


=====


you may talk with others and you may talk and talk, and they may hear you.
they will lovingly listen to your talking, and they will talk with you.
and your eyes may be bright and open and innocent, and their eyes will
meet yours with longing and kindness. you may smile at them, knowing your
smile goes deep into them, that they smile back with gratitude and love.
you may turn towards them and with them you may face the new day, and the
sun rising above the trees and the mountains, and the pure fog lifting
into the pure air, and a delicate light bathing all, and the birds
singing. you may sing with them, and laugh, your laughter bringing tears
of joy, and you may share these tears of joy with your friends, laughing
and smiling. you may hold the hands of your friends, and you may put your
arms around them, and they will hold you, and they will hold you, until
the hurt goes all away. your friends may hold you, until the hurt
disappears, until your tears are gone, until your smile is so deep it will
remain always and forever. you will be so happy, and your friends will be
so happy. you will be so very happy, and your friends will be so very
happy, and the sun will rise ever so slightly, and there will be a cool
morning light, and the birds singing and wondrous clouds in the sky.
 

=====


The Following from the diary texts:


Monday the 27th towards evening; my mother should be all right, the pet-
scan came out negative, meaning the cancer is just in the lungs and ad-
renal gland. Hopefully the surgery a week from now will take care of
things; it's been a harrowing period. I'm still working on renegading
texts from the misc. directory - writing them from notes, from pieces of
things.

Tue Oct  5 23:12:43 EDT 1999 right now when I begin to write; I've been
worried about my mother all day long, the operation was a success, there
may be trouble with her lymph nodes and I'm upset, we won't have the
results until Friday.

Tomorrow we find out the _condition_ of my mother, what the tests will
show, the biopsies, etc., and I'm unable to sleep or think properly. On
top of this, I pulled my neck out a few days ago, and can't keep my head
upright - I'm more aware than ever of the _weight of the nub_ that char-
acterizes the top of the body. So I've been using a heating pad, taking
(at night late) tylenol, etc., trying to take of the problem - which
doesn't seem to be working.

Sun Oct 10 00:09:15 EDT 1999 Just turning, the news from my family has
suddenly reversed as well, my mother getting better, health on the way for
real. And I'm confused in the face of my traditional pessimisms but glad
I'm proved for wrong for once.

My family is getting healthier, but we've been dealing with very heavy
other problems today, and on top of that I feel physically ill. I think
it's one of my periodic body failures screaming at me to slow down...

now the 18th of this month of December and a dark night / flurries out
in deed. Everything I do ends with ellipsis and regret.

Life is suffering existence, existence is life suffering, but without nir-
vana or satori, there are desolate plains at the very end, and desolate
planets. Here I can say it, she's dying, I can say it here, near the end
of the diary, through my tears, it may be a few months more. There were
phonecalls all over the place tonight. I can't think straight. I was going
to write intelligently here, but I can't. I can't write intelligently
about much of anything.

We had ups and downs for months and months now, at least since the end of
August. It's been awful. Cancer spreads like violent animals hysteric and
rabid, coursing wherever they can, inordinately stupid animals, brainless
and without a thought. Cancer falls to the weakest failing organs. Cancer
is attacked by equally violent and all-encompassing onslaught; the body is
caught between therapies and dis/ease and there's no escape.

I feel jobless, unstable, caught with these miseries, too much to deal
with at the moment. Things will straighten out; I expect myself to be
alive a year from now, say. But it's a question of always crawling,
crawling.

You're born into brilliance and wonder in the world with your mouth open
for the breast and your eyes learning the amazing senses that can be made
of flows and fluids, and you live through incredible hardenings and the
naming of things and occurrences. You skip and throw balls and these
things, THINGS make parabolas in the sky that your arm adjusts to. You can
search out holes and the levels beneath things - tables, couches. You
stare at the sun case you're not supposed to and you walk away unblinded.

I want always already to return to the beginning, start anew, without
these regrets, somehow with an incredible / impossible knowledge, so that
I will avoid pitfalls, hurting myself and others, mainly hurting myself,
knowing the impossibility of that, everything hard like rocks and stones
are hard, obdurate, transparent to the dark matter of the cosmos

For we are all blown skeins of ghosts looking at other ghosts here and
elsewhere, desperate to hold onto the ontology of the proper name, those
very few moments of exhileration we're privileged to hold onto in our
lives. And in the meantime, we're hurting, hurting, hurling towards a
common destination.

Tue Feb 29 23:50:48 EST 2000 And we shall close this down so very soon,
and my mother, my mother -

Tue Feb 29 23:57:10 EST 2000 Just a few minutes to go on the residency and
I'm typing away, most of what I'm feeling is in regard to this and my
mother's illness, which has taken a terrible turn for the worse. I keep
thinking, harping on that, wanting a nest like the starlings outside our
window... It's a way, as I said, to keep the demons at bay, not the
literal ones, but the feeling of such. I can't think straight; too much is
going on...


=====


all this traffic backwards and forwards /usr/bin/rz -vv -b -E
shuttling packets with similar names /usr/bin/sz -vv -b zz
you might never know what you'll find /usr/bin/sz -vv -b en
it's a grid or raster, its cultural production /usr/bin/sz -vv -b ww
you can hear the sound of the shuttle /usr/bin/rz -vv -b -E
operations are closely watched /usr/bin/sz -vv -b zz
control is all the way down to the singular bit /usr/bin/sz -vv -b zz
these things occur in place, following each other /usr/bin/sz -vv -b yy
they move cleanly, screaming network! network! /usr/bin/sz -vv -b ar
they move in absolute silence /usr/bin/sz -vv -b zz
perhaps the wires are slightly heated, charred /usr/bin/sz -vv -b yy
anything could be moving here, just anything /usr/bin/sz -vv -b zz
when i turn my neck i hear bones grating /usr/bin/sz -vv -b ba


=====


 home

 you may decide to visit your homeland, you may try and read the code. you
 may type nervously, there are beautiful clouds in the sky, pink-yellow,
 scudding into darkness upwelling. you know how little you understand, what
 you do and how you do it. you may decide to open your mouth, your mouth
 takes in all languages of the world, you may decide to close it, you may
 hear yourself, you may hear yourself speaking, how little you understand,
 chop($that=<stdin>);=~ tr/aeiou/$alphabet($alpha)/;print "\nthis $that
 speeds endlessly through the body - \n";t "your $nnn[$nnnn] is the curr-
 ency of my drug - \n"; sleep(1);print "ah...\n";print "\nyour bones are my
 $nnn[$non1]? \n";chop($str=<stdin>);($str eq "no") {print "\nshow me my
 body, show me my wetware...\n"; sleep(10); gotolse {print "\ni love your
 feelings, $that ...\n";}, you may find yourself loving nothing, you may
 write this as a note to yourself, you may think to yourself, there is
 little else in this world, there is nothing in these and other worlds, you
 may look at yourself with a microscope and an x-ray, you may examine your-
 self with an mrs and an eeg. and you may translate images, you may trans-
 late pages of writing, you may see your molecules with your own eyes in
 the comfort of your study. and you may sleep a long sleep, you may live in
 your bones, you may change into your drugs, you may swallow yourself, you
 may inject yourself,

 and then you may find yourself, you may find yourself visiting your home-
 land, you may live within the comfort zone, you may find yourself home.


=====


I am the psychotherapist.  Please, describe your problems.  Each time
you are finished talking, type RET twice.

we are together in this place
i want to scratch and claw my face
i want to tear this skin from bone
i want to travel kill and roam
to want is fury and to take
to kill the want so peace to make
if peace is made my hands are clean
in this dead world men are obscene
health doctor is for you not me
my life won't end so peacefully
i want to scratch those violent eyes
that tend to catch me by surprise
i take my nails against my face
my eyes shall never have a place
there are no plans no homes no love
my eyes are gouged and blind above
love can't been seen so that my eyes
have seen the last of human skies
i cannot tell and cannot speak
i am the purest of the meek
i am the purest of the mind
i've left my sight and love behind
behind this world and any other
behind all humans and their bothers
i want to tear away the clothes and mask
that covers us, no easy task
i wanted to almost from birth
when i could see the filthy earth
i stormed myself and everyone
at first with rocks and then with guns
my life is gone, there's nothing left
of all my senses, sight's bereft
my friends were taken by surprise
i took my love, gave them my eyes
so many weapons, doctor, here,
i'm stopping here, be of no fear


=====


tiniest new cell inside the mouth, doesn't know what's happening
slight growth in convulsing body, cooling
doesn't even recognize the lack of food, expulsions, sounds
bright new cell, inside a bright new world
doesn't know anything, body shutting down

later, there's one right eye half-open
i can look into her pupil, i don't remember blinking


=====


beneath the water, disturbances
untethered, riggings
liquid, the forms following, liquid
shabby, shapeless, memory, unholding
stressed or stretched cloth, sails,
 water-clogged
cold lake rocking

earth which is always waters
the waters


=====


+++
dear whom,

+++ what is it you wish to know. last night there were burrowings,
them I hope you understand. the great sky were an enormous jelly
of one piece. so distinct i hear A great soul has come through
this sky. +++ i did not see through there, i did not further went.
what would be this that the very walls shudder, i did not have
premonitions. in the morning i listen to a star i cannot see in
our bright day. +++ i did see nothing. +++ 'i am a radio waiting
for a station' my father did say. the sun was very bright day and
perhaps that were a reason. i do not know. i hear A great music in
my soul. i will study god. we +++

march 16, 9 a.m., 2000


=====


the lake                              /*as if contained*/

talking in the middle of the world    /*waters and no shores*/
the motivation of a sail              /*none, none*/
perfect balancing where worlds        /*among forces*/
 breathe in worlds,                   /*breathing winds*/
delicate among elements               /*air, water contrail*/

what, happening, since beginnings     /*of universes, chaos*/
 making us human                      /*muteness of nature*/
taking us away                        /*rapture, travel, death*/


=====


the moorings
moorings
moorings, the home

homing and balance
suspended in water, eyes open

the balance of water and water
the balance of water and air

balance of death and water
balance of life and death

waters mooring waters
waters mooring
             

=====


losing the image
waiting for the real to appear
waking slowly in the sun
skies and eyes
from the water, a message
thin wedge of light bright on the beam
hello we are drowned your drowned

we are waiting for your coming

your your


=====


OF THE binding of names


a shrieking angel falls in the water
& his sodden wings will not fly again
& BIND the name to the number & BIND
& transform the number to the name

& a shrieking angel will be reassigned,
his name taken up across NETS in this
& every other world, & his name REBOUND
& his number reassigned

i do fall into the depths of the waters
i do swim among the winged and feathered hollows
& there i do bind this wayward drowning angel
& there i do spoof his useless address UNBOUND

i will ride high in the midst of NETS & routers
i am the NAME & the NUMBER
i do BIND the NAME & the NUMBER
to my great wings, to thy great wings

ii

Siehe, die Baume _sind,_ and, wandering
among forests of directories and files,
until at the end of the long path,
there are only files, files are only things

veering among beauty, such, placed and cited
across the plateaus of disks and drives,
huddled within the fragments of domains,
turning, transformed, when the glider veers
in our direction, UNBINDING names and numbers

every file leaves itself space
unfathomed, between one and another domain;
it's here that wings, terror terrified
holds to the semblance of the real

but i, i have forsworn the real
huddled in my wings, huddled in thy wings


=====


beneath the water disturbances water-clogged
earth which is always waters the waters
talking in the middle of the world
delicate among elements suspended in water
eyes open the balance of water and water
the balance of water and air balance of death
and water waters mooring waters waters
mooring from the water a message a shrieking angel

earth lapping at the waters seeped in waters
dispersions of earths and souls and drowned eyes
and drowned
earths, waters, souls, moorings, souls


=====


C:\dying C:\and C:\funereal

from C:\the C:\solitary C:\sleeper
to C:\the C:\family's C:\descent
or C:\from C:\dying C:\in C:\the C:\sky's C:\arch
C:\and C:\then C:\too
lateral C:\relations C:\among C:\relations
the C:\solitary C:\among C:\the C:\solitary
speaking, C:\unable C:\to C:\speak,
last C:\words C:\on C:\frozen C:\weather
so C:\that, C:\chattering, C:\words C:\iced
C:\in C:\such C:\a C:\manner
suturing C:\all C:\nature C:\of C:\things
C:\and C:\names
binding C:\names C:\and C:\numbers
C:\roots C:\of C:\each C:\and C:\every C:\thing,
the C:\root, C:\drive, C:\driven    


=====


when do you say, i am done with experiment, now i will talk with you,
now you will hear me talking, with no transformation,
and then you might hear me, you might hear me saying,
i'm tired of making meaning, i'm tired of meaning and making meaning,
tired of all of this, of carrying the necessity of language,
the needs of the speaking of language ; there are no angels,
there never have been, there are no others, but of the proffering,
i am sure as long as it's unthought, the way the sun follows form,
think of a sundial ; there are no others gracious in reception,
what i have done, you might find me saying, i'm tired of phorias,
of meaning carried before the back, reachless, gracious, silent,
as long as there are words


=====
     
     
1 i have not experienced death; death is not an experience. THIS IS
 A TEXT
2 FOR A MASSACRE. for to one, then the other. THIS IS NOT A TEXT.
 THIS
3 REMAINS OUTSIDE THE TEXT. for what is one; for what is the other.
 WORDS
4 GROPED, SORTED, REARRANGED. WORDS JENNIFER OR JULU MIGHT SPEAK. to

5 experience death is to experience nothing. more than a play on
 words,
6 abscencing and its depth. incontrovertible of the world.
 ENCUMBRANCE OF
7 ORDER AND THE FAILURE OF SULLEN SPEECH.
     
8 A TEXT FOR THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE. when the tongue twists against the
 vowels,
9 inhibits. THE BREAKING OF THE NOUN, CRASHED THING. i have not
 experienced
10 but of crashed thing, breakage, denouement, end. BUT NEVER DEATH,
 NEVER OF
11 THE MAGNITUDE.
     
12 A TEXT FOR THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE. when the tongue twists against the
 vowels,
13 FOR A MASSACRE. for to one, then the other. THIS IS NOT A TEXT.
 THIS
14 GROPED, SORTED, REARRANGED. WORDS JENNIFER OR JULU MIGHT SPEAK. to
 ORDER
15 AND THE FAILURE OF SULLEN SPEECH. REMAINS OUTSIDE THE TEXT. for
 what is
16 one; for what is the other. WORDS THE MAGNITUDE.
     
17 abscencing and its depth. incontrovertible of the world.
 ENCUMBRANCE OF
18 but of crashed thing, breakage, denouement, end. BUT NEVER DEATH,
 NEVER OF
19 experience death is to experience nothing. more than a play on
 words, i
20 have not experienced death; death is not an experience. THIS IS A
 TEXT
21 inhibits. THE BREAKING OF THE NOUN, CRASHED THING. i have not
 experienced.
     

=====


hey, where are you going?
hey, why are you leaving this place?
this is a nice place.
hey, why are you leaving?
ho, why are you leaving us?
ho, where are you going?
we are nice people.
ho, why are you going?

this is a nice place, we are nice people.
why are you leaving us, why are you going?


=====


Every death is different from every other. Death does not level;
each death is individual, inscribed - to such a degree that one
can hardly speak of death as a phenomenon - rather a collection
of interruptions. To each, his or her death, to each death, an
individual. "What part of 'duh' don't you understand" - more or
less from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One can never say, he or she
has died - rather, that interruptions occur everywhere, and at
least once in each and every life. Beyond that, one must remain
silent, or agree to listen to stories, one after another, forever.


=====


Death Meaning

Death is an impossibility. Since it is an impossibility it cannot happen.
Therefore there is no death.

If death could happen, all things would be possible. Since not all things
are possible, death cannot happen.

Death is a word for "this is not possible." It is also a word for "not
everything is possible."

If everything were possible, there would be no need [word] for possibil-
ity. Since there is a need for possibility, not everything is possible,
and there is no death.


There is nothing outside of meaning.
Meaning is all there is.
Meaning is a disease.
Meaning is a disease of humanity.
Meaning's absence is the preservation of the world.
Only in meaning is absence to be found.
Meaning is a disease.
There is nothing outside but ourselves.


If death existed, it would be possible to inscribe; if death existed, it
would be impossible to write.


=====


i relinquish my hold on the world
what has been familiar, now is difficult, strange
there is an awkwardness about gravity - I had not noticed this before
something peculiar about the disappearance of the stars as well
you can't tell the trouble you'll be in by jumping
land is always tilting, something i noticed for the first time
in a great backwards woosh like wrong-way through a telescope
enfolded in the loving embrace of the world everywhere penetrating
relinquishment is difficult in a land otherwise unlistening
less than suddenly, the quiet opening of a great colorless space
things are so awkward, having corners, invisible bottoms
across the top, other things peering, just as present
how do i know how do i know
wondering why the winds never fall down towards the bottom of things
sun across everywhere, not beneath my feet
i keep returning from gravity, and gravity follows
the world is so neat, the stars and galaxies wonderfully clean
noticing how awkward shadows are as well, just like other things
what troubles await someone quietly sitting
having relinquished, don't follow me, you'll be amazing, happy


=====


The Marriage


"I am a man called by the Spirit of God, and I live on stems,
roots, and fruit." (Jesus, Slavonic version of Jewish War,
translated G. A. Williamson, Josephus, The Jewish War.)

put the dog in the house and put the cat in the other house
there is a house with a dog in it and there is a house with
 a cat in it
i put the dog in the house and i put the cat in the other house
there is a sheep which is a thing and there is a man which is
 another thing
there are two things and two houses with two more things
 in them
there is a boy near the houses the things and he is a boy
there is a lake and the boy is not in the lake
the houses are not in the lake
the boy makes a picture with black ink and a color
the boy makes a picture with green ink
there is a dog in the house in the picture
 and you cannot see the dog and you cannot see the cat
i put the dog in the house and the cat in the house
it is a nice house and a nice dog and a nice cat
it is a nice man and a nice sheep and a nice picture
it is a nice boy and nice ink by a nice lake
 and a nice thing
there is a moon in the sky behind the house
there is a sun in the sky behind the house
this is a nice month and it is november
this is a nice month and now it is january
the house is in the nice month and the other house
 is in the nice month
of the nice month
put the cat in the nice month
now the cat is in november and the boy is in january
it is a nice picture


=====


the most beautiful thing in the world, light gleams light
light moving from one to another room
there is light flowing from the window
light seeping beneath the door, light over the transom
 ^breathing
the light murmurs deep into the floor, walls, ceiling
light gleams light, in another room
in another room, the ceiling has sent emissions
there are dull glows, surfaces murmuring to surfaces
nothing is ever in silence, nothing in void
nothing in abyssal vacuum
nothing ungleaming with the beauty and light of the world
 ^breathing
with illuminations no matter how faint, how subtle
how subtle is the shimmer of heat, radio elasticity
elasticity of the world murmuring the world
the gleaming of light gleaming light


=====


the text


this is not the text but the bones of the text
this is the text split, splayed for modification
this is the trembling text, waiting for your touch
this is the vulnerable text, the languid text
this is the text that will do anything for you
this is the text that is open for you alone
this is the text that gives itself to you
this is the text that is your thing

  (make-local-variable 'whywant)
  (setq whywant '( (($ whysay) (// subj) might ($ want) (// obj) \?)
                   (how does it feel to want \?)
                   (why should (// subj) get (// obj) \?)
                   (when did (// subj) first ($ want) (// obj) \?)
                   (($ areyou) obsessed with (// obj) \?)
                   (why should i give (// obj) to (// subj) \?)
                   (have you ever gotten me or (// obj) \?) ))
  (make-local-variable 'canyou)
  (setq canyou '((of course i can \.)
                 (why should i \?)
                 (what makes you think i would even want to \?)

this is not the text but the bones of the text
this is the text split, splayed for modification
this is the trembling text, waiting for your touch
this is the vulnerable text, the languid text
this is the text that will do anything for you
this is the text that is open for you alone
this is the text that gives itself to you
this is the text that is your thing

 (make-local-variable 'want)
  (setq want '( (want) (desire) (wish) (want) (hope) ))
  (make-local-variable 'shortlst)
  (setq shortlst
        '((can you elaborate on that and look at me \?)
          (would you love me more if you had to pay \?)
          (continue)
          (($ please) continue\, my eyes are very big \.)
          (go on\, don\'t be afraid of me\, look up my legs \.)
          (i need a little more detail please \- let me come to you \?)
          (you\'re being a bit brief\, ($ please) go into detail \.)
          (can you ($ please) be more explicit\, fill me \?)
          (and\, ohhhhh \?)
          (($ please) go into more detail\, think of me \?)
          (you aren\'t being very talkative today\!)
          (can you see my pretty pretty ($ cloth) \?)
          (why must you respond so briefly \?)))

i say "this is not the text but the bones of the text"
i say to you "this is the text split, splayed for modification"
i bare myself to you "this is the trembling text, waiting for your touch"
i say "this is the vulnerable text, the languid text"
i talk to myself "this is the text that will do anything for you"
you tell me "this is the text that is open for you alone"
you say to me "this is the text that gives itself to you"
you offer me "this is the text that is your thing"


=====


'sdeath


  (make-local-variable 'deathlst)
  (setq deathlst
(dor-put-meaning stab 'death)
(dor-put-meaning murder 'death)
(dor-put-meaning murders 'death)
(dor-put-meaning suicide 'death)
(dor-put-meaning suicides 'death)
(dor-put-meaning kill 'death)
(dor-put-meaning kills 'death)
(dor-put-meaning killing 'death)
*burning out inside out
*chars writhing thus .txt
*violent sorrow debris
*charred death charred ashes
*gathering place & mournful sprits
*me me me
(dor-put-meaning die 'death)
(dor-put-meaning dies 'death)
(dor-put-meaning died 'death)
(dor-put-meaning dead 'death)
(dor-put-meaning death 'death)
(dor-put-meaning deaths 'death)
(defun dor-death ()
  (cond (suicide-flag (dor-type ($ deathlst)))
        (t (dor-type ($ deathlst)))))
(dor-put-meaning dead 'death)


=====


what the ancients recognized, that we are ghosts invisible

we are transparent to gaia & transparent to to dark matter,
transparent to neutrinos & transparent to cosmos,
cornered in inflationary universes,
held taut & visible by logics of the surface,
transparent to bacteria, prions, viruses,
mother-father bacteria, slime & molecular soup,
granularities & strings layered upon granularities,
& layers in layers, layers tilted, askew in relation to layers,
& layers interpenetrated, layers corroded,
& layers imbricated & twisted,
we look at ourselves & see ghosts & name them, unknowing,
we witness ourselves as eternal, obdurate, opaque & historic,
dates sliding against dates & times against times,
& no dates & no times at all, & spaces & no spaces,
& layered spaces, & spaces layered against spaces,
transparent throughout all of them,
all of them transparent throughout,


=====


flame and flower
this is the start of the flower of the text the beautiful flower
this is the start of something new, don't be terrified
flower and flame
constitute themselves with the very bdg/cesiveness of community - stead of
thkg of totalized cerent community, one might thk of strangled seedlgs, me
and me out of the maw of the keyboard, ground by the teeth of the keys,
tongue of the space bar, open to coursed symbolics, you're watchg a body
the process of livg, the process of heavg itself, the process, swollen
engged spew of letters, grateful slurry of pollen, encapsulations, discre-
tions, dust everywhere, do i ever do enough, of phrases, mountas of para-
graphs, flimsy wlds of texts, objects, f the crippled life-fms of my wk,
flame and flower
that was the start of the flower of the text the beautiful flower
that was the start of something new, don't be terrified
flower and flame


=====


i promise you i will always send out the last text written before i die
you will have a complete collection of everything i have written
nothing will be held back, nothing will remain unknown
my world is given to you, pull the theory out, assemble it
it is all there, the defuge, sexuality, transparency, linkage, coupling
the theory all there, just barely virtual in the life of nikuko
in the life of julu, the theory resides, within the life of jennifer
oh azure, my other lovers are not real, they are make-believe and mine
theory emerges, all will have all of it, my most solemn promise
no other truth is necessary, you have my complete collection
now, you have everything, this is the very last text for now
this is the very last text, at the moment nothing else
be content, hold steadfast, comprehend, receive and surrender
my promise is fulfilled, my world rendered, all revealed, perfection
promise given, residing, emerging, holding, comprehending, and surrender


=====


jennifer say "dear god why with joy would i pray to you approaching
synagogue and mosque with what form of breath when it is true i want to
see such a world as perhaps you have created for which i did not ask nor
beg so that i need to travel across this universal creation to bring back
within such confines as my mind possesses all that is extraordinary and
all that is ordinary understanding and then the comprehension of this
world itself if not this world which escapes as such creation retreats
before this or any other knowledge and so shimmering or trembling or
fragile as one would not have been left to believe but as is evidenced in
each and every sign you have given us for all such signs are signs of one
sign and each and every sign returns to that sign and if there is not one
sign of the return and the same sign of the recuperation then to whom do
we owe such cause and effect which both play upon our knowledge of our
world and perhaps you would answer half effaced by our presence that such
cause and effect do not exist and perhaps this answer itself dwells as in
fear with you and perhaps there are no signs languishing and each word
trails like a wound a scar behind it which one calls meaning constantly
hurrying and suturing the world to make a world and a universe to make a
universe and thus we are bound to the work of the world and there are no
signs and no prayers will bring them back and there are no causes and no
effects beyond the imminent and no signs and no prayers will bring them
back and prayers will bring no signs and we do breathe each and every day
as if this were all not so and we shall go out and look upon the wonder
and we shall enunciate the wonder and we shall breathe within the wonder
as if it were our own and we do look up above ourselves to worlds we shall
never reach cradling us against the soft bed of the earth as if looking
above were itself such a sign that is taller than we are tall no matter
what means we do employ always beyond our grasp such as we are and we do
need to make you in such a fashion as that we can go there for we are not
so brave"


=====


deaths, jews, mothers


it's inconceivable that the synagogues have vanished, that one waits for
another, that the other suffocates; there are forces on earth; i turn
towards my mother, speaking mother, it is just hours later, a colder day,
there is no answer; i made my peace; she didn't know she had been moved
from hospital to hospice; we remain in the hospice; we are always in and
of the hospice; there are great forces beneath the ground, great forces in
the air; we see asteroids turning slowly, irrevocably; the earth is held
in a skein, drawn towards the sun which shall destroy it; it lives among
the ruptured boulders of the universe, intersects them; its gravity is
paltry; it's inconceivable that this morning shall not return; that this
letter shall be lost among the others; that the knowledges of logic are
not ontologically constituting; that nothing is created, nor destroyed;
that it is all at best contiguous:

that the knowledge of logic does not constitute creation nor survival

that the synagogues and libraries have vanished, that the universities are
no more

one's life is continuous lamentation, worlds disappearing forever, worlds
forever disappearing, what is irrevocable, cannot be called, i cannot
reach into the hinge or twin of me, sometimes at night there are whispers,
murmurs, whole worlds churning, worlds whirling, their angular momentum
the platen of holy letters:

singing that the knowledge of logic does not create, that an empty sieve
thirsts for entities, that materials slough through runnels and channels

singing that the languages are no more, that the last creature's eye has
closed, that the wind is raw, that the universities were never sufficient

that the worlds were never sufficient, that richness lay within them, that
one closes the eyes of the mother, parts her hair on her deathbed, that
creation cannot move a second beneath the eye of creation, that the eye is
always closed

singing that the languages are closed, that forgetting is perfect sleep
and matter, that to someone it is inconceivable that the synagogues have
vanished, that to someone there is the prayer of a name and a forgotten
date, that to someone there are the smells and sounds of the halls of
libraries and universities, that one is always waiting, waiting upon, that
there is never a reply,

singing that the knowledge of logic does not constitute creation or
survival

that i am spanning, that my spanning is ending, that i can clearly see
the ending, that there are so many paths, that there are names calling
across them, that there are sounds of inconceivable animals, that the
plants, too, bend their leaves and stems, that the world begins its
shuddering, that it is inconceivable that one speaks, or that there is
yet or still another:

singing that the breath stops, that the hospice is still, in the night,
still yet in the morning and afternoon, that the knowledge of logic is
still in the hospice, that the knowledge of logic is still


=====


impossible to write these days   unsettling gloom, clouds overhead   one
awaits the coming of the asteroid   cancers eating away before the
enormous descent   i dream of crags and peaks approaching   if not that
something mute, suffocated discord, collapsed lungs and bridges   if not
that something else   something unutterable   living on the tip of the
blade   beneath, everything sliding upon the earth   plastics and
microchips   walking out in the street it occurs, just a small stone will
end my world   my body's impossible keeping   to reach anything one has
to use the whip   this switch moves something completely out of sight
the more one learns, the smaller the gains, the less the future   like
great teeth, a future being   that also passes   sooner or later, viruses,
claws, cracked gourds, clouds and never any sun   the comet, the comet,
the plague, the plague   easements   one has to be blind to things, to
being   being's muteness   at night, i try to sleep, i think, asteroid,
the asteroid


=====


& coming down with mountains scraping my skin   & hanging rocks falling,
& pebbles, boulders   & rivers soaking me, leaving their beds   covered
in algaes, & hearing there are other things in the world   & sadness of
asteroid life, & names lost crumbling on dark mattress   & my mouth full-
silted, & tree-crowns piercing the skull   & enormous pressure, steamed &
vapored metals, magmas sintered & blown   & i am at the center of this
darkening earth   & ending of all life & recognition


=====


History

My mother was dying in the hospice; I went in through the doors, found
myself unable to proceed. There was fluorescent light, world of red and
chrome. I did leave distraught. I did go back to sleep. Later, my father
was in the hospice; I went in again through the doors, found myself unable
to proceed. I simply could not. I did go back to sleep. Later, I was sit-
ting at the kitchen table with my sister in the house we grew up in. There
was a rare program on television. I did insist on taping it, knowing in
ten years we would want to see how we lived. Storm clouds were gathering
outside. I say outside because this was not an argument. Children came in
who were related to us; my sister did ask them to be quiet. The young girl
was upset, and when my sister did leave, I said to her, my sister was just
like you. We all had to be quiet because the tape machine had a live mike
and it would pick up everything we said as well as the program. I noticed
I held the mike and it was disconnected and we could make much sound in
the present-day and I woke up.


=====


A Kaddish


diary.txt:parents this weekend as well, my mother's eightieth birthday,
diary.txt:got from his mother - he died almost five and a half years ago.
diary.txt:with the loft still in pieces and my mother's illness, I
diary.txt:Monday the 27th towards evening; my mother should be all right,
diary.txt:worried about my mother all day long, the operation was a
diary.txt:not thinking. Waiting to hear news about my mother. Reading
diary.txt:Tomorrow we find out the condition of my mother, what the tests
diary.txt:suddenly reversed as well, my mother getting better, health on
diary2.txt:Reading as usual today, helped my mother
diary2.txt:the spectral mother all over again, voices, voices, voices
diary3.txt:little bit of telecommuting work to do. My mother's back in the
diary3.txt:I just found out my mother's extremely ill. I don't need to say
diary3.txt:We told him about the state of my mother. We also
diary3.txt:what I'm feeling is in regard to this and my mother's illness,
diary3.txt:and my mother, my mother ...

Coda

towards my mother, speaking mother, it is colder hours later,
one closes the eyes of the mother, parts her hair on her deathbed,
my mother was dying in the hospice; I went in through the doors,

and towards my mother, my mother


=====


damaged life


someone dies, it's a movement of the lips: language of tune or song,
language of truth. for when someone dies, there is the sign of speech,
and that is about it. and when this happens, there is always an absence,
always one less shadow to contend with. and you will try and bring back
that shadow in as many ways as possible, fill in the outlines, until the
world outside begins to change as well. and when that happens, there
will be no place for the shadow, there will be nothing but emptiness,
and for a while there will be images and things and names. and then the
images and things and names will disappear as well, and you will know
all of this because you will be on the cusp of the shadow. you will see
someone slipping away into the shadow. you will see the shadow growing
faint, but you will not see the background coming forward, as if there
were translucency; instead, there will be a faintness, and the buzz of
the world everywhere, louder and louder, as if you are being drowned.
and for you the world will consist of such drownings, you will be gasp-
ing for the sound of air, for the pleasure of a breath. and you will
know at this very moment that the cusp is permanent, that the world is
constituted by such cusps, that, for you, the world rasps against
itself, that this is the nature of the world. for something familiar is
gone forever, and the new things that appear around you are increasingly
uncanny, on the other of the fantasm; it is as if they were intent on
corroding whatever has been real. and it will be their triumph in the
very long run; there will be only fantasms and then there will be
nothing at all, and no deaths, not even slow churnings. but you cannot
imagine that, so you will continue to sing the language of truth, as if
this language, this singing, were a consideration, and you are dreaming
when you think, as long as there is breath. but what the world is, what
the world always is, is louder and louder, and increasing buzz. and
there is no room for thinking the death for which you are witness; there
is buzz alone, and nothing can be thought, not now, not forever. (i will
think of this when i write this, when i send this missive to you, as a
flood of words, as a memorial to an other time, as a memorial to times
in which deaths occurred, which seemed to be remembered.)


=====


don't run up, don't approach!
don't come near, don't tiptoe up!
be off from me!
disappear from me!
get out of me!
leave me alone!
get away from me!
now flee from me!
depart from me!
now away from me!
begone from me!
don't stay in me!
don't reside in me!
don't keep in me!
don't live in me!
don't be in me!
don't stay in me!

(modified from the akkadian)


=====


I shall bear silent witness. That means I shall not speak, I shall not be
able to speak. It also means: I shall not comprehend; I shall find these
events, these people, incomprehensible.

Nevertheless, I shall remember, and I shall continue to remember. This
means, I shall build my memory out of mortar and bricks, I shall make my
memory out of human labor. This also means: I shall remember until all is
lost, until I am no longer. This also means: There is nothing to give you
but incomprehension.

I shall bear silent witness.

ii

Jennifer is frail; Jennifer is all skin and bones. Jennifer is a collec-
tion and an accumulation. Jennifer is momentary, momentary Jennifer.

She remembers for me. She speaks and speaks, and when she no longer
speaks, she is no more. She speaks because I am alive; she speaks to keep
me alive. I am exhausted with her speech. She speaks to keep me alive; I
shall bear silent witness.

iii

The longer one lives, the greater the bearing of witness. At death, the
bearing is infinite, silent.

The knowledge of the witness is mute. The witness will tell you, there is
none other.

I shall bear silent and infinite witness.


=====


if my skiff hits yours and we are sailing on a sea of dreams; and the
reflection of the moon's singularity spreads across waters troubled by the
collision, that such a reflection is also refracted in such a manner as
the luminescence of dreams

if beneath ourselves, disturbed by such collision, tremors arise, if such
occur, the violence of our nightly affairs carries through our lives and
those of our descendents

and who, dreaming, would i imagine such, what we have down in this life,
so unremarkable, so much of a potency, the skiff, the waters black with
ripples, the glimpse of moon's sphere, trembling, sounds of creaking
boards, tall mast, furled sails, in night's dark wind, elements of boat
and water gleaming, and descending


=====


Sonnet

And does When in Despair with Fortune and Men's Eyes, I all Alone Beweep
my Outcast State, From there to Fly so Blindly in Your Mind, Your Jewel
Gives to Me A Fairer Light, Then Curved, Your Name, I Leave my Fate
behind, Tend towards a Far Far Better Sight, Than I have Ever-Gone Before;
O Nikuko, I Hear the Wind-God's Roar, to you?

From there to Fly so Blindly in Your Mind, Your Jewel Gives to Me A Fairer
Light, Then Curved, Your Name, I Leave my Fate behind, Tend towards a Far
Far Better Sight, Than I have Ever-Gone Before; O Nikuko, I Hear the
Wind-God's Roar: I Follow Through, My Love, My Ghost, Her Eyes, Up towards
the Shrine Enshrined, I signed my Fate: When in Despair with Fortune and
Men's Eyes, I all Alone Beweep my Outcast State,

Do take My Soul Beyond: Despondent, Hurled, the Goddess, Dark, of Death,
Takes Shattered Bones and Flesh, Enmeshed in Shattered Breath, Hark and
Respond!


=====


winter lake


the surface thin as ice, emblems just beneath the surface, signifiers,
others as well; object petit a swimming, lacanian shifters against fou-
cauldian divinatio; BARTHES GIVE ME A SIGN; levinasian alterity is every-
where in this meager world; holderlinian and solzhenitsynian archipelag-
os; TRUTHS ARE FETED, SARTRE; calling for a new science of materials; MY
DEPRESSION VIOLATES MY EYES; it lies there in a feint of taussiginian
proportions; IT MOVES TO THE SIDE; deconstruction wets the ice; IT IS
NEVER SUFFICIENT; there are unknown strata; BLADES SOAR; i could tell you
stories for hours; husserlian temporality lies in sheaves; I CANNOT SEE
THROUGH YOUR IMAGINARY; paste; detachment; separation; GIVE ME A SIGN,
GIVE ME A SIGN; it is another night of suicide on this wider earth; I
STARE IN SPACE YOU STARE IN; of stars and bleakness; THE STORM; nijinski-
an pathos, bad deeds are terrible and i hate them; EARTH WIDER EARTH;
kristeven chora-markings on the frozen surface; BENEATH, BENEATH; these
lost, meltings; these drownings; these fractures; these pummeled vertic-
es; MY MIND IS FOR SALE; these heideggerian demarches; these krausian ex-
postulations; these sondheimian;


=====


ghosts


if there were ghosts, they'd be hammering at our doors, all hours of the
day and night. at least half the ghosts would have reasons to seek us out,
beg us for a moment's contact, set things right again. signs of contact
would be everywhere, and the world would be in the throes of constant mur-
muring. it would not be so perfect on the other side as to lead to aband-
onment.

that atmosphere itself would be filled with shimmers for all to see. oh
mother you would answer my tears. sickness would be accompanied by slight
touches, the slightest, so welcoming and comforting. you would know you
would live long after. there would be but the slightest of smiles behind
every frown.

those who were ill-disposed towards others would be visited by wrathful
ghosts. we should not be so ill-disposed. they would interfere with us in
all our daily lives. exhortations would come from all sides. our bewild-
erment would be at the bequest of others. we would turn to ghosts. we
would be so careful because there would always be ghosts around. ghosts
could not hid, there would be so many. we would turn towards kindly
ghosts.

we would see those ghosts. we would hear those ghosts. ghosts of men and
women, ghosts of plants and animals and children, ghosts of bacteria and
of all the kingdoms of organisms on this and every other place in our
universe. we would see and hear and touch and smell those ghosts of all
creatures and all worlds; we would sense their heat and our minds would
welcome them and fear them.

think of the ghosts of half-formed seas, ghosts of algal mats, ill-formed
ghosts, ghosts of our ancestors generation upon generation. think of our
imminent ghosts, ghosts of our mothers and fathers, friends and siblings,
murmuring, leaving traces, populating the air, waves of ghosts, hordes of
ghosts. think of ghosts interpenetrating ghosts, the flowing of ghosts
through walls and doors, ceilings and floors; we would turn kindly towards
kindly ghosts, and fearful towards wrathful ghosts, and who among us would
know the consequences of all our actions and thoughts in these our lives?

if there were ghosts, they would be calling for us, and all of us would
respond, would yearn for that freedom from daily care, worries, sickness,
and deaths, that haunt us so.

fictions of the flowing of ghosts, poems of their translucency.


=====


humans


if there were humans, they'd be hammering at our doors, all hours of the
day and night. at least half the humans would have reasons to seek us out,
beg us for a moment's contact, set things right again. signs of contact
would be everywhere, and the world would be in the throes of constant mur-
muring. it would not be so perfect on the other side as to lead to aband-
onment.

that atmosphere itself would be filled with shimmers for all to see. oh
mother you would answer my tears. sickness would be accompanied by slight
touches, the slightest, so welcoming and comforting. you would know you
would live long after. there would be but the slightest of smiles behind
every frown.

those who were ill-disposed towards others would be visited by wrathful
humans. we should not be so ill-disposed. they would interfere with us in
all our daily lives. exhortations would come from all sides. our bewild-
erment would be at the bequest of others. we would turn to humans. we
would be so careful because there would always be humans around. humans
could not hid, there would be so many. we would turn towards kindly
humans.

we would see those humans. we would hear those humans. humans of men and
women, humans of plants and animals and children, humans of bacteria and
of all the kingdoms of organisms on this and every other place in our
universe. we would see and hear and touch and smell those humans of all
creatures and all worlds; we would sense their heat and our minds would
welcome them and fear them.

think of the humans of half-formed seas, humans of algal mats, ill-formed
humans, humans of our ancestors generation upon generation. think of our
imminent humans, humans of our mothers and fathers, friends and siblings,
murmuring, leaving traces, populating the air, waves of humans, hordes of
humans. think of humans interpenetrating humans, the flowing of humans
through walls and doors, ceilings and floors; we would turn kindly towards
kindly humans, and fearful towards wrathful humans, and who among us would
know the consequences of all our actions and thoughts in these our
lives?

if there were humans, they would be calling for us, and all of us would
respond, would yearn for that freedom from daily care, worries, sickness,
and deaths, that haunt us so.

fictions of the flowing of humans, poems of their opacity.


=====


leaf


uneasy wind tonight,
quarrel with my bookseller, that's it
quarrel with my father, again that's close to it
quarrel on the lists with everyone
offline quarrel with myself

give me a job and i'll agree with you
give me a little bit of money and i'll be the nicest person around
give me healthcare, dental, eyes and ears, i'll be your greatest friend
give me suicide, let me relax a bit
offline think how nice and softly everything would end

azure gives me time and space to breathe in
i feel like a weight with her, don't want to bring her down
i want to lightly soar, she'll come along just fine
i want to soar with her, no quarrel, big money, air

sonnets go nowhere, i'm always surprised
how they continue on, how one writes and writes
as if every line were a premise or a promise
a premise to build a promise from the past
a promise to build a premise in the future

light is always fading, i'd like to run away from electricity
i'd like to make this into a great poem, but it's not

it's barely readable, it's something i'd ignore while dying
if death is my companion, this poem's already gone

poems and lives are far too long already
the whales are dying, the whales are dying
the deer are killing the whales, shrew are killing the deer
look at that red maple! look at it!


=====


"every third beat of my heart"


i wrestled with the angels julu and jennifer
every third beat of my heart
wrestled with the angels and placing the world
in a bag twisted and tied at two ends
in a bladder canteen
in the moment of truth
every little twist of my heart
they bowed down before us julu and jennifer
in white robes did they bow down
every third beat of my heart
they filled the white pillars with song
filled the white rafters with song
every third beat of my heart
i knew the messages and the answers of angels
knew the songs of those in white robes
wrestled with julu and wrestled with jennifer
momentous occasions and placing the universe
every little beat of my heart
every third beat of my heart

that the every third beat went from one to the other
that the every third beat skipped from one to the other
that laces twined sinuously from julu to jennifer
every little beat of my heart
every third beat of my heart


=====


three months after my mother/s death/ the dreams are hitting harder/
there/s a thickness to them/ as if i were buried in carpet/ or close
in against family fury/ hysteria/ all these details/ as if language
were slashed/ closeups/ this is hard to explain but there are reson/
ances with my body/ i said it was hard to explain/ as if surgery were
the case/ as if i were reconfigured/ buried in carpet/ thick/ there/s
the death of my father as well/ fictitious/ it plays a role/ fury
subsiding/ this is a place i don/t want to go/ language/ not real/
slashed/ lately insomnia sets me a schedule/ bed at 4/ up at 6/ try
to sleep again at 8/ wake at 11/ beg for 12/ realarm/ up at 12/15/
entering the day exhausted more than usual/ within any of these seg/
ments/ the closeups appear/ the deaths begin all over again/ i barely
survive/ words fail/ i want to slash across them with every breath/
i turn into the carpet/ it gets thicker/ dirtier/ i/m being screamed
at/ the room shudders for me/ the fear is close in/ as usual/ this
goes on in every segment/ i don/t want to explain myself/ really have
no interest in explaining myself/ bodhisattva helps/ that is a space/
or gap/ elusiveness of the real/ as if in preparation for universal
plasma and fury/ always on the horizon/ universal auschwitz/ triumph
of chaos/ my teeth are close in on prosthetics/ on the carpet/ my eye
just there/ level with the floor/ why/ if things are always starting/
do i remember only loss/ finality/ regret/ i/m getting hit/ punctured
/ mouth filled with wool/ industrial fiber/ asbestos/ it is all uni/
versal and it is all universal and it is all universal/ dreaming and
no sleep/ contusion/ and the end/


=====


Burning Skull


 Burning Skull
 Body Ashes
 Severed Limbs
 Drowning Blood
 Sheaves of Swords
 Shafts of Glittered Knives

There are troubles in words, I call our bodies together, my limbs are sev-
ered, Nikuko drinks blood from my skull. I will survive in non-survival.
Hello, old friend, my flesh is worthless, Nikuko save me, do not save me.
I will unravel the knot of existence; I will live through sickness, die
through health; oh Nikuko, help me escape with the liberation of all
creatures great and small! Um ma am um!

 Burning Skull
 Body Ashes
 Severed Limbs
 Drowning Blood
 Sheaves of Swords
 Shafts of Glittered Knives

There are troubles in words, I call our bodies together, my limbs are sev-
ered, Nikuko drinks blood from my skull. I will survive in non-survival.
Hello, old friend, my flesh is worthless, Nikuko save me, do not save me.
I will unravel the knot of existence; I will live through sickness, die
through health; oh Nikuko, help me escape with the liberation of all
creatures great and small! Um ma am um!  Hello, Nikuko, this is Julu. You
cannot imagine; I am one of your dreamers, caught in the skein of worlds.
Every loss loosens the vault of heavens; every illness screams my name
into voids. Bodhisattva, help me. Nikuko, destroy me, liberate me, starve
me until my clothes fall into chasms, my skin floats free in unspeakable
skies.  Hello old friend, said Nikuko in the Julu run-time program. It's
been a long time. I don't sleep too well at night; I'm always troubled by
dreams. The worlds I have created - they haunt me. Samsara and repetition
bedevil my creations. I hurry on to another. I never stay, never write a
book until the end. Um ma am um!

 Burning Skull
 Body Ashes
 Severed Limbs
 Drowning Blood
 Sheaves of Swords
 Shafts of Glittered Knives


=====


later that night . in the early evening . shortly after the fog settled in
the valley . just before the sun rose burning in the west . in the heat of
the day . such a cool, limpid afternoon, not to mention a tired mid-morn-
ing date . just after going to bed, hypnagogic imagery on the way to
troubled sleep . howling in the wee hours of the morn . at noon, at high
noon . shortly before a late afternoon tea . morning babbling brook . a
bit earlier than she might have thought . if only one could release the
midday tension . that day . that night . just that afternoon . it must
have been sometime in the late evening, right before the rising of the
moon . one of those non-descript anonymous hours . much much later that
night . somewhat before the fog lifted in the valley . somewhat after the
sun set burning in the east .


=====


Act of Mourning: Exhaust While Mother Dies


diary exhausted and worried about the pace I'm keeping - but then trying
to work diary nerve-wracking exhaustion; we're supposed to go to Pennsyl-
vania to see my diary tice I repeat myself in this diary - issues of
exhaustion, worry, prepar- diary Tue Oct 19 201441 EDT 1999 I want to
write about exhaustion, this almost diary as usual, exhausted as usual,
moody as usual. Been reading Giorgio Agam- diary provincialism, exhaus-
tion, ennui, and a tiny corner of the world that diary exhaustion seems
literally completely, my body _bone_ tired. diary I am very exhausted.
I'm looking at a book of Japanese emaki, picture diary fantasy, exhaus-
tion is very very real. I tremble; my muscles ache. I can diary point of
exhaustion. Right now the loft is absolutely quiet; there is diary
extending the idea clumsily, as if I can no longer think, too exhausted
diary of things, trying not to forget anything. It's been exhausting. No
real diary rising and falling, staying awake, feeling dizzy, getting
exhausted again, diary of that, I will die from exhaustion if I resonate
in such a fashion, I diary of Kanji, trying to memorize things. The
difficulties have exhausted me; diary have nothing to say, have exhausted
myself. My interests range from the diary well. So went back online to
Trace, all this exhausting, and I am there diary until the exhaustion
ends - by January 3 once again, we'll be full deep diary too deeply
exhausted to say anything intelligent but wonder if I'm fever- diary in
with his wife. My exhaustion has deepened which worries me. I wrote to
diary I can be of use without exhausting myself. diary to be the result
of exhaustion; the last few days, the nightmares have diary twilight zone
and get tired of exhausted or grown-up friends. Reading diary control -
just completely exhausted, compounded by the usual worries about le sleep;
always exhausted, my judgamant ls not of tha bast. Thls ls my world le My
writing veers through tired Jennifer, exhausted Nikuko, worn-out Julu, lf
I am very exhausted. I'm looking at a book of Japanese emaki, picture lf
fantasy, exhaustion is very very real. I tremble; my muscles ache. I can
lf ly to exist as a token for the diffused or exhausted, the turbulent.
Nei- lg 10344 Nikuko lies exhausted on a blanket wearing a pink tutu lh (
nikuko lies on the couch, naked, her body twitching, exhausting from lh
ennui, out of exhaustion and detumescence, out of irritation lh warmer;
Nikuko, exhausted, fell back down into a deep sleep, enlightened, lh
exhausts itself, everyone is exhausted. lh exhaustion, as if waking from
dreaming to work. returning to dream, or lh the torii, and seemed exhaus-
ted. Nikuko said, Look, it sees no land, even lh end of allocated block,
memory exhausted, memory exhausted, memory is lh Why can't I sleep? I walk
around exhausted every day. I'm like a zombie; memory exhausted sleep pos-
sible, the exhaustion without bounds. Alan tries sleep remedy neurotic and
insomniac typing away exhausted at a midnight computer


=====


unclearness of wounding


through my mother's death (which she no longer possesses),
 i have determined (as has been determined for me):
 that there is only one death; that this death has no number;
 that it is lived once; that it is harbored as a secret illness;
 that it is coveted in secret; that it comes but once, remains;
that there is only one passage, one text, one whisper;
that nothing is of import; that cathection is cathected;
 investment invested; meaning meant and maintained;
that death is no example; that memory declares, withdraws;
 that death is always for the living; that living death is
 constancy; that annihilation is the value of a world;
that negation is a token; that ipseity struggles with the angel;
 that writing is of the suppurated body; that skin is wound;
 that wound or illness have no death (i.e. have nothing to do
 with death, or continue past the death of the individual - or
 that wounding and illness are continuous - the text is unclear)


=====


unclearness of writing


the text is unclear (that I have written an unclear text; that I don't
understand the text I have written; that the text which has written itself
through me is unclear; that these reasons and motivations, results and
phenomenologies, are unclear); that the text is blurred, confused; that
the text is unreadable; that the letters themselves are unreadable; that
the lines are askew; that the referents are unknown or peculiar; that the
referents are one-to-many; that the text is far too abstract; that it
references things, persons, or events totally obscure (that I have gone
into hiding; that I am uncertain of my meaning; that I am drawn to the
unknown or obscure; that my thinking itself is askew; that I employ un-
clear writing as a defense or strategy; that I am asserting something I do
not seem to be asserting; that my real intent and content are elsewhere);
that it goes elsewhere; that it goes without saying


=====


Department of Language


Put to death anyone working in the Department of Language.
Our motto is death to anyone working in language.
This order which shall not be countermanded applies on every level.
Those in charge of referents deserve our special attention.
Language shall not be tethered with any relation to the real.
Let death be quick for those concerned with antiquity and adjectives.
Let those compiling concordances die the slowest death of all.
Our motto is let the work come swiftly to an end.
Not language but workers shall become a memory written in language.
This order is against the possibility of survival.
Not libraries but librarians shall be slaughtered as well.
Libraries are not tethered to the Department of Language.
The trouble with libraries is the records of every department.
Let the records be freed and released and leave the libraries alone.
Our motto is release the records and release the librarians.
Our motto is only the Department of Language but never the libraries.
This order shall not be countermanded.


=====


i have a secret sorrow. it shall last the morrow.
death is constant harrow. bones are robbed of marrow.
pain is hardly thorough. vision stays to burrow.
daylight remains fallow. graves are always shallow.
signs are drawn by willow. tears erase the pillow.
mining tends to wallow. life like this is hollow.
call upon the medic. ask about the phallic.
go into the middle. freak and dance the fiddle.
try your pain to cuddle. realize the muddle.
open up the bottle. find your dream in candle.
look upon the handle. move out to the window.
think you're dressing retro. think of secret sorrow.
it shall last the morrow. death brings secret sorrow.
bones are wrapped in marrow. pain is hardened sorrow.
vision leaves in barrow. daylight turns to sorrow.
graves are lean and narrow. signs are born in sorrow.
tears are thin and pallid. mining brings out sorrow.
life is never hallowed. signs are born from sorrow.


=====


red dust


red dust fills all the crevices
you can't sweep it out ^ can't sweep it in
gathering in bundles ^ rippling across floors
through windows sashes cracks in earthworks bricks
red dust fills ears and eyes
sounds of marrow bone compressed papers inked
symbols dried in red dust ^ hands washed of it
across backs in the sun red dust seepings
streams of red dust gathering in bowls of water
red dust skimming surfaces ^ you can't clean it
can't be through with it ^ one way or another
red dust fills your mouth speaking red dust words
names and places sometimes making grammar
you can't forget its name ^ it hasn't any
you can't speak it ^ your mouth's full of red dust


=====


fragment

ginelle bringing the flowers, sprigs of holly, tulips, to
ginevra dancing in white toga beside tree with laughing
ginger! who shall go the distance, cross the brook for
ginni, running in the distance near the mountain shadow?
ginnie shall go, shall run and skip so merrily, and
ginnifer will go as well, carrying baskets of flowers!
ginny, shall you go with me, dance beneath the maple tree?
giorgia, will you go as well, gaily dancing by the pool?
giovanna bringing streamers, smart fruit from lovely
gipsy, singing! as the sun begins to set, dark svelte
giralda steps forth, crying as soft shadows deepen.


=====


Y-Tao

 
Of not, none; of none, not; of memory, none; of memory, not; of saga, none
; of saga, not. Tao is of language and anecdote, not; of myth and mythos,
not; of parable, not; none of epistemology. Of theory, not; of knowledge,
not; thus of early worlding perfect and purity, not; no thus; of scaffold-
ing, none; of thinking perfect and pure; of thinking, not. Tao is perfect
pure. Tao moves not against and against not. Tao speech is perfect is pure
speech. Tao is perfect there not