The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

July 31, 2013


(as if it were always already completed
(if it were separable from the body, or at least connected
(within the ontological), or if it were false, for example,
... crawled away probably if it weren't so disconcerting ...
as if it were a world, but something that appears,
it's over, as if it were, before it began beginning,
coming, and over and over again, as if it were pure and
  continuous and as if this were one transformed

and as if it were translucent
and cooled or if it were further delayed
and if it were not for the latter, all theories flowing
towards psychoses, and if it were thus, there would not
be these and others, i say subjunct, i subjunct,
  as if i were still alive, or as if there were still time,
  or as if i could write, or as if i were to be written,
  to be written ontologically

and if it weren't for azure and her kindness against all odds
  as if i were dead or dying, as if time had run out,
  as if cells were swallowed in enormous conduits of the dead -
as if it were an internal homunculus - i think i'm pointing -
as if it were possible to make sense for an instant,
  when we were on our own and so young and there were
  worlds and worlds to explore and we do look up above
  ourselves, as if we were -

we shall hold, as if it were solid, as if we were safe,
  and if my bones were not dying, my mind not seeping into hells
  i will never see, as if these hells were solid, granting
  sustenance and so obvious substance ...
that would be something of the light
that would be telling me creation
and i couldn't speak and couldn't return, and i would be
washed away, if i were not written, if i were not written down -

i is a stream of i's, i will tell you, as if it were true,
as if, and to believe, as-if would be sufficient,
would suffice, would always be otherwise and helpful,
and floating free, and dissolving, and the universe
  no longer a universe, 1/0, always other, always wise
  and no longer control, no longer out of it,
  and no perception, as if it were transparent, or not,
  and no meaning and no return,
  and no losing and no finding,
  and no truth and no anguish,
  and no silence and no living, nor death among the living
nor the meaning if it were true or if it were just true
and it were just true, and would have silenced

the span of human life

crimes, that consensual sex of any sort is sex of any sort, that
fetuses female masturbation against animated stillborn twisted
fetus the ovum right of center. spermatozoa flicking down the
screen, produce that extra kilogram of sperm. distended adults
should never have heidegger no kant honestly flickers through a
tired eye as the debris after tongues, i have walked through
yards, across rivers and canals, begged baby su_graham "he came
over to me trembling and scared poor little baby" the infant
drowned or injured mother, jl brought forward the idea that the
ego of the human infant girls - one pricks him with a needle, the
second uses pincers on him, the behavior in order to learn how to
make love to his wife or girl, some we played in copenhagan, hung
out with tj a bit, two whiteboys in son house, mance lipscomb,
watched them, i was whiteboy all the way, "i regret thoroughly the
pride and thoughtlessness of my youth, and see golden garland of
lilies we have around each others fair and youthful woman who was
fascinated by autocannibalism, as exemplified by her fantasy." the
woman mutilated herself by eating pieces of her fingers, concept
spaces, geometry of thinking his names, material on semantics, jk,
the roman text, dull, almost a thud, then the wayward semanalyse -
that the elderly are child-like. i'm told i'm living on borrowed
time, my mind supposedly elderly, am i repeating myself? did i
forget something full of algae, water, moon, dead objects, among
us once again. bang! they're dead! bang! they're back again! bang!
among us once again, grammed the eating of corpses, but the
possibility was there, running on, knew getting 'home' lost color,
pallid corpse-like around time. systems sizzle, suppurating, say,
structured slime example looks like it just emerged from the slime
of the symbolic, already our names smashed forgotten black dust
everywhere it's gone, scrawls with post-industrial stuff, worked
seeming full blankness at the close, and then the command net,
activated membrane, not just blank screen, connections monotheism,
totality. try from the other side - nothing happens. surely them.
but i'm a coward; i've seen, in fact, very little, almost nothing
at all -

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