The Object
1.
The object is simple,
a point in space
that may or not travel
through it from the,
let’s say, barrel (itself a
constituent part of
the nature of its
consequentiality à posteriori
such as the wound of the flesh) of
the sphere of emptiness
(or any such property)
of a gun of which the
subsequent state of affairs, i.e., death,
sustained by an atomic fact
in motion arriving
at a destination, i.e., the head,
conveying the possibility of affliction
already manifest à priori as
it happens over and over again.
The World
1.1
Form and content
creak, roughly speaking and as generalization, deep in the world
when human form cleaves the fixed configuration, indistinguishable
from itself.
Although colorless, as in blind-to-its-selfness,
this bipedal tormentor (point to any one of them)
does exhibit its blood as red and constantly,
or discursively, spilled, thus
boding the bounding of the world
in recurrent images of propensity
toward anguish, its own.
Sickness unto itself
1.11
One man’s atomic fact is another’s hibernating dream: an idea strung, or strings of memories annihilating all other objects in the vicinity of itself and of negative facts hiding beneath the epistemic sheets of remorse = darkness is upon it, i.e., one man’s existence is a humanity’s folly. To picture this would be only a mere fact plus all the elements therein as elements of the world, in an indefinite combination of pain, a sickness unto itself.
Suborning Death
1.12
All connections, strung or unstrung, combine to form structures: a broken heart, deceit, grief, etc. The idea of these forms is relegated to fictions, once set upon by the blind—Where is their picture of the object? Where is the link to reality, the embedded wave frothing upon the berm of regret as seen clouding over the landscape of the image? That is to say, in order to be a life, the life must have its own picture and be in essence all the elements of that picture suborning death.
Umbriate Press Poetry 