ON BIRTHING DAY

One hand is for creation, another hand for destruction

a body lingers and collapses through space, leaning on the earth for support

an eye dazzled mesmerized by liquid sheen of propagandistic wallpapers

and upholsteries

an inebriated man crossing the street follows the light

tripping in trance one becomes not oneself but none other

the philo-logos-ontologic-ocular mechanism self-maintaining

pooling seas of seizure and tragic reductionism

the dissociated self as mechanic, weaver of tapestry, welder, proctologist

Gastroenterological discourse

take any philosophic postulate as potentiated momentum

through the only voice left, a poetics of technè

ŦàœşŦ ÜĺūŴíůŵ

ôõijöø ŝļěļș

ŗťśóĭÚ

åïī

æĺĺ

àłľ

äŀļ

ăľŀ

ġćæŇŧŧÿīęł őôŶÝŪņóö ĺij

ĺĺijķ ùŝŇαΧĘ

πνβζ

φÆϖĠ

βξθπφϕϖĎ

ŒŇĬ

an ancient tradition is taken up

referential to the cosmic "all" primary plenum of experience diffused

mysticism reinvigorated through a rigorous collapse of logic architectures

witnessed firsthand

this body dissipates into a vacuum of potentiated diaphragms

culminating in seemingly infinite honeycombed chasms of interior ego chambers

technocratic bohemianism conceived as barbaric vigilantes

a call to arms by the silence itself, for waste not want not

i would say yes, certainly these plants and animals stewed a sweating tea

and my i is indeed indifferentiatable (sic, italics mine), undifferentiated, indistinguishable

hence a song to/through the aether

to vibrate the bridge between that medium and this one