The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

July 29, 2006


unutterable sadness, cursor intrusions, head-object or object-head moved
piece by piece, that is spectral redrawing of coordinates given and
through certain trajectories, i'm sure there are disturbances yes for me,
i hear howling just beneath the surface, although these might bounce, much
as a message from me to you, unable to reach its destination, and that is
in fact its destination, in fact, in dream, in imaginary, in virtuality,
of which these are texture-molded from vaginas, testicle, shaft of penis,
sex-heads, silent, silenced, not even a nodding, yes and no

*/apologies for removal of some files, i have limited space/*

when i talk with incompletion
sometimes there comes a notion
that someone owns completion
an imaginary notion

asking campers riddled questions
is riddling walls of the camps
someone who no longer questions
is no longer roll-called in the camps

grey stained red and sutured mouths
no one ever gets out of here
bodies are nothing but mouths
the rest no longer here

obscene half in obscene half out
this is the primal scene
it never happened or worked out
just repetitious scene

arrows fly like cursors hasten
better get out of the way
space itself seems to hasten
time imprisoned one way

time has no time to rupture time
space is only residue
of time confined to confine time
time is residue

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