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fresh cilantro
the capital of ghana in the seventies
he was a socialist- killed in a car bomb
ghosts of angola, of patrice
in exile, a political refugee
make passageway to the US
if you cant beat em- right?
by the time I met her she was a phd- no soviet union- the dissolution of alternative politcal life- the end of history
english- mr martin (stoned off my ass) 1st period, art history with sarles (my favorite) (still high but burning out) 2nd, the rest i pretty much forget (blame the gaba agonists) but 8 & 9 th period doc Wilkinson
the freshman let me in everyday, it was for latin 6th or 7th after lunch- which i took on the road redosing or maintaining
she gave me five dollars every day to get her tacos and I would
was it ghana or guyana- they sent the africans everywhere. I was always ashamed to ask
two periods creative writing everyday- thats art school
everything is political down to the naming of new world plant species
C. Linnaeus upended by imported human chattel
down to the spinning of electrons
Linnus Pauli
if i look at the world
simultaneous
entangled particles at the opposite end of the universe, that had the opposite trajectory at the time of the great expansion
change
not change as much as become what they always must have- or might have been but for fortune- by the eye of the observer
memory is like this to i believe- recollection effects the material world in the same way
if sawed open and implanted in the hippocampus the memory of a spin (up or down) without anyone knowing which one it was beforehand, the surgeon, the scientist, whatever
and, after anesthesia, the patient woke up and could sucessfully recall this spin, its corresponding entangled particle would
immediately, despite distances, display the opposite spin
faster than light
no assurance god doesnt do brain surgery while your sleeping
we move- not forward- but centrivical or like something deeper into it- whatever you call it, spacetime, the ether, the manifold
matrix
whatever
our sin fuges out- density and sits above us
watching nothing
feeling corresponding reductions and oxidations
memory's components
chair is not a Chair right plato something like that
those things were not neuro soup but outside of ourselves at one time
things of themselves without constitution- inverted somehow for relation- for relations pretty much exclusively procreation
oh but they were material to
and the high minded impulse toward the irreducible is a game for fantasy- for memory
what carries on volcano god- descartes, come from god
the irreducible is the baggage of the materialist
fundamental to identity that thats all you can feel
about memory about love
the thing is not the thing but the notion of the thing which is neuro soup
but that notion of a thing, which was composite things, existed in a way to be imparted to memory not as the sum of composites but as the thing itself
how, why
to fuck and make more of yourself
the defeatism of abiogenisis
how could you love if not otherwise- extant, temporal as something greater than material
a nasty evolutionary trick that leads to suffering
but my memories are privleged and il fucking kill you if you proved to me otherwise- i would walk and eat and take drugs across the fucking earth to get to a headspace where i never heard that proof otherwise
to get through the day
fantasy- the reprieve
memory- the landscape
suffering- the currency
forever and ever
amen
worst way to end a poem ever
Although this is not the kind
Although this is not the kind of poetry I usually read, I really really like this one. I am bookmarking it so I can revisit. Like a neutron star, it is very dense with material---which is a very positive aspect to this poem---but I cannot take it in at the first reading. I will be back for several more readings of this profound poem.
J-Called