Insatiable Memory Almanac * cfMC FEROX (1999)
The tempo of the keyboard, his plastic horn, fingering one voice. Here where they bomb first we hardly can speak to anyone. Not your burden, to inspire aspirations, to survive.
I am reminded that it was one hundred years ago today when Marconi made first his wireless transmissions—as always, people remember what the devils do to them.
The questioner most days, now I advocate you concern yourself, hope, in this climate of gullibility, to encourage life and discourage slavery’s fascination.
What is it you’ve never seen anything like?
Commodified trinketism, I’m crying, have to have something—fundamentally inherit, unquestionably ours, not a matter for demons, or money, unbeautiful stores, covered in blood—but a beginning.
Grievous assauging (specified proportion of ill intent foisted), often in these circles employing emphatic “sir” address (I sur, vive; mediated at every turn—incomprehensibly, to our souls, should we discover our own methods for performing).
If we meet this which fascinates us, let us endeavor in all ways to appropriate it not in some predetermined fashion as would necessarily suit its case, but instead by regularly appending relations to it as our senses permit, especially so (primarily) as constitutes our overall awareness in flux of this situation, presupposing no mutual understandings; further, I insist nothing else facilitates the freedom of understanding, rather is indoctrination (slavery revealed).
Called into question, reason: not a flaw, a season. Conceptual breakthrough. The revelation that your life is life as ever, and only shamed by valuations.
DON’T FEAR ODD-FI
rememberless, not forget-full: insert gang symbol habit or attention span
a note for a conversational recording
Not allowed1 unregulated tonal whims? Steal Your Consciousness Back From The Enslaving Babylonians In Televised Chunks Which Elude Them As Inconsequential //: chaotic perceivers reconstruct initial instincts
AND PLEASE, PLEASE
try to walk as fast as you can while still remaining invisible—as important as actual movement may seem, the american dream is to ride waves well. define the grace of your actions (by allowing other monkeys to cue it up at their discretion?)
commercial/paid advertisement/(a word from your running technique)
1disallow the concept (disavow)
he last looks up when—and we were just tryin to keep on going.
Snack. Unfriendly fat man under shark. Damn sneaky. The way you square your shoulders makes me imagine boxing, dancing Hold still so I don’t get any on me What are you tryin to ah listen I don’t fuckin
wait a minute I can’t wanna live forever, before I was a raindrop contracting the top of a tree: no contact, only grace, choreography of wind and sky After when,
a hundred and ninety days without precipitation, i have a tempo but it’s not your job to follow it. conversation, your view, which although you learned it like that is not two dimensional—as every affectabe present becomes a realized past and future (all togethernow)—reveals what you are: un-sedentary by law of chaos, a greater network of synapses transpiring to concern your eyes in their glancing un-dry-eyedness, screaming until it wets your brain with hot blood
i’ll re-educate myself with it until i’m dense enough to transform. i’ll subscribe & track the waves you’re making, revelations in the occurrences of your 40% godlessness, orifso, regarding the amount & quality of the debris produced, correctly taken as un-american: sight unseen commissions for sale, what’s on display is given away but in everything still find something from someone to take, never to//steal//only//motions//to direct conglam-figurations, at any rate, hopefully at a rate as you see fit, that with which you can revel in, beat consciousness into with. not merely agitated by but screaming until it wets your brain with hot blood freedom2
or sally sadly forth right to speak—yes!—adroitly of positions after-digit, in salt rain mist argot less practiced by me, drawing on walls, posing for a drink, matador, fighting or fucking; escargot writing, as w/o a table precisely, is also difficult but not as hard as dancing, or standing still to explain, spinchiselingspinetinglingspangtangledho, until you mean what you say, and if you tire of paying attention to anyone other than yourself? maybe (instead) for a destructive portrait of a cartoon character (you’ll look at that!)—beaten—already reflected in four-bar intervals by which easterly witches divine the subtle nature of a space—standing in front of machines is currency (exchange, your) time, the basis of what % of your existence, famil-iar surrogations,3
a repeated image what makes you feel like a performance, an incomplete gesture reaction, proves. Consumption without expansion is a disintegrating authority, great ideas from stolen moments are better gods but the choreography of a scene is to be aware of the scene and further, further being the artistic instinct,
2how does it feel to never be alone?
3does anything beautiful ever know what it is?
that’s me in front of the tank: spoken
conversation is of less distinction between one dinosaur and another than how i hold my arms3 to communicate this to you. i know how to be quiet, over and over and over again to make it real. She was one of them dames that’s always the fastest thing in the room. so you learn that if you want for whatever variety of reasons to have this dame around you’d better make sure she believes that she is the fastest thing in the room. and even if you’re slow and careful enough to remember how she arranged what she said, and to make her voice unslient, i still wonder what you are revealing to me. You could ruin my present tense anytime you want to and you laugh and say, “I spend a lot of my life looking for things.” well I sing and to the moment that is me when i breathe with a certain direction, a toast—to instigation, and to those paralyzed by the reality of such an instinct and so stricken that they blink and gasp to exchange the trauma of their voyeurism assaulted for desire: a molested expression no one else was meant to see
self-proclamation: again and again and again, because, again and again and again
but things in their nature are also the easiest to ruin, and where’s too much percolation (worn), power not equaling grace, that’s me finding, unexpected, a wall, now for and to discover again how we take comfort in breaking things (foreign) into decipherable pieces. [with purpose, remedies, rooster artist to the king, as much for reference as any brushstroke, as is all fiction.] Picture now existing
in goethe’s frozen music of geometry (constantly ignoring, all the time arriving), one foot in the door, met on the street,—a writer’s brushstroke. one tiger says to the OTHER:
4tongue, sense of humor
“wanna change spots?” nonetheless she was proper and i knownothing. cattiatore if you adore me. i am an eater (ferozian). well received understandings improve penmanship—as an artist i may never get over it. bottle is a happy man
guitar is a woman
bellow//: hidden text (to Moriat): 1. kind of like dyoublong; 2. a fogdampened dim bar above Sutter St., presided over by a beefy red leatherclad chinese woman who may be a man.
confidentially, truth be told, i thought i’d meet an art crowd at the chelsea, not a purgatory of self recognition. laughter again. thank you for sharing our you. everytime you start smiling i lose more blood
you aint that guy in the creek tryin to catch a salmon—use a razor, not a butcher knife. i’ll show you the faceless clock here. Then, a second generation jazzman.
all right, if you got to do that in public. it’s so sad that I belong here. one foot in the door, met a writer on the street. you know why cows wear bells? their horns don’t work.
How’s the angle of my orange? asks a palindrome sniffer, you were able to control your shrieks like that? abortions, oil paintings, crop circles. laughter-language harmonica. at last he looks up when
twin bartenders with red cockers bend to make meet the ends of the shortest distance between two points. name your punches and listen to the sound of my heart beat. hieroglyphs are for further communication of tenacious realizations until
one true good thought a day (simple economics—a danger of improvisation). This grandfather clock is missing some element of time that i gave away in a
dream. the unions got it all sewed up, unless you’re a fuckin comedian, some neologismical peter piper. drat! era bar got to grab a retard (or accept this language before your monopolization imperils you).
i don’t needany fresh enemies today. i don’t know why i even came down here where i could be tempted. must have thought my confidence was working right again. here’s a guy hates you hey fuck so you’ll turn your5
civilization into a prison, left jab!
but not tonight. tonight, the mosquitos are institutionalized.
5 head and acknowledge his essay topics
but not tonight; tonight
Notes From The Interior Of The Funerary Chapel Of A Meroitic Queen:
Well i don’t always trust people’s opinions of my life as gleaned from conversations, if you only know who you are, when you think that you know who I am. love, so you set these buoys in place & see who they save,
whose genes learn to fly.
A Crooks’ soliloquy (Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men, pp71, 73)
B Chomsky not surprised: we allow our gaze to calcify from x y # of times per day: mediated: so you set these buoys in place and see who they save, whose genes learn to fly. This could probably be something like television, or a drug presence, or evangelicalism, or art, the other side of an uneven exchange, ever able to turn that exercised focus over again and again on top of itself—but of or from—until our modern (curse interest—charge!) is to reveal our consistencies, and to choreograph them as further efforts saved for something always more valuable. In spite of this their genius at any point is constant currency, the confidence of a soloist.
I. PAYMENT UBIQUITY
The most important thing that a monkey could do would be to eat with style or according to custom. And amateurs by comparison, as communications have become concentrated in awareness of influential scrutiny? Their expectancy is substituted, maximizing efficiency of attention in contemporary competition for access. I’ve had more and ruined it for less, such as when I thought how little you thought of me and so never suggested you get me some handwriting analysis for a birthday present.
Tragic confounding nonsense from the room above but dare I relate, exchange tones and gestures? Criminal communication, is that what we do to each other? They’re just a meteor.
II. VAMPIRE STORY
Here’s another ontology for you to do something about, mouthpiece, in game of naming all root causes, to ratify the time-appropriating lunacy of Want, your cipher: a treasure trove of lost civilizations, small offerings, burned, and monumental calendars, in new satellite images: no guarantee, eternity, being.
III. PALIMPSEST LOVERS
That part of myself, which you see I have been long unable to hold near you and which in my neglect abandons me, only trembles over the reality of all which has encompassed our expanding passion. I’ll pray.
IV. IMMEDIAPOLATION OF IMEQUATION’S FISSION
Vowelspace for everyone. The first oil coating of my preamble canvas is prehistoric, progressive familiarization with relativity, convinced of fluctuating design, recognizably existing.
Why I despise the prevention of genuine conviviality in your shocking, unsanitary accusation of my work (”drug writing”), if you have one, has less to do with preparedness than strenuinadaei (theatrenonnom), the sheer cosmic evil of mundane obstacles–enmity semeiotics–undefended triangles, and the protracted assembling, accumulating, economizing, and preserving that has preceded them–picture it, smile: “this is for the post office.” Meeting face-to-face is already the revolution. Are we not hyperboreans?
V. SOUTH AFRICA, BY TAXI
The desire to carve is time traveling, a tattoo.
Sirocco: a hot, oppressive wind blowing from the deserts of N Africa into S Europe
The absurdest gags involving monkeys. Chants and beats, everyone. Peace for with you. That’s why it’s magic, peace for with you. A kiss not a curse from a retard. What kind of a deal did you have in mind? Go on, get moving? Hornblower whistleblower.
Touch a baby lion get your finger back. Measured in light. Frank Buck? Bolo bolo unscairt man. Hoist ferocious! Boys, he had a head like that. Fevered nerves.
Chat, people are going around saying, Kittens! Are you afraid of big teeth? Your movie paralyzed, deteriorating?
Oh, my friend! Whatever will be, will be. Here again we’ve had a look at concurrent futures in arms which betray us. Shall we remain uncontested, scattered, alone? Do you even think I speak English anymore? Wipe your hands on my eternity, I’m the room you have to grow in.
Immobile, detached consciousness mediated through a technologic sieve. “Strange,” because they survived unexpectedly long, enduring the machine—not the terrible litany that Mayakovski advised against, for the artists classified as workers (“no need for itemizing”): particles visible in our view field when decaying.
(Disordered by computers)
It’s a weakness, leadership.
a spring in your wave.
take it out on the truth and
(electronic kitten’s brilliant escape)
–got an open window & I see you.
would you take this way home?
–bootcamp lick out of uptown.
And now again if I must be absolutely frank with you
I would say Yes I am not
satisfied with myself for
the addictions that saddle
me or my slowness in
confusion or quickness to
rage but I have no desire
for blame, only understanding
which, aware of freedom,
knows peace, and is
by turn fascinated and dismayed
at the unwritten thought, perhaps fuel
too many, to many, are
psychoses in italic
where my voice is.] (in the verses)
overawareness X times daily
Unprepared for our best,
they expect us to acknowledge,
but not our own,
and attempt to corrupt our vigilance.
Who points a finger and why,
but to steal centers–
judge this angel’s behavior
before irreverence renders
your little time asunder.
god your breath and mine.
“you still in the way?”
but more like a declaration.
1. sealed in a concrete box,
deep beneath the earth.
2. So lives faded and ran
off tracks in accordance
with power’s appetite for
servitude & reverence, &
upon the rest who did or did not
know their place, sedations
were issued, and heartily consumed.
3. & they did raise them
with certain conceptions
in 30 minute televised
lessons but in time
hid these, creating despairs,
4. ask me again love,
standing on some tone
of serenity in my voice
5. & excercised their suitable needs
in broadcast of touchstones.
6. see it here, and hear it, &
teach your other senses their
7. replaced secret hates with loves,
wakes up with yesses,
an everpresent burden if you’ve an opinion of what’s wrong
with their pointing guns at you.
8. of course part of what makes
them invaluable is the
magnificent way they encompass
my entire learning process
& document it
like clouds moving over the pacific
9. and the thoughts i had on
this matter which i now undertake
to comment on struggled to
free themselves from all manner
of enslavements &
exhaustions born thereof.
10. So all the while matters
affecting my place are contrived
and executed without consideration
except to contain it in unprescribed ends. But in other designs my
breath is not as short, &
pronounces, in layers, direction.
12. and you ask me why
i write still
when i don’t even know
of course it is.
music proves that much.
the rest i believe is our
license because brother that’s
celebrity, all history and slant.
17. and anyways, if you’re
you can go get it.
18. no need for rudeness
unless you’re aware of
that tool, whose user
would confuse you with
19. I knew I had to make it more
22. of dialog urgency: big than what’s
normal. A combination of expressive techniques
to reflect associations more and less, further & additional.
25. opened fire on the party.
i call this one,
all of these clubs had live music.
it’s a never ending study
which sustains me.
28. & in those blank unspoilt places,
which is one
of the things I
could show her
29. & regarding locations uninhabited
by subsequents ill-defined in suggestion,
and positional notation,
for reasons connected to their calendar,
or something beneath which
falls on to capture,
the definition of which
unwarranted awareness capitulated,
sovereign copasetic pannonica.
30. Such as I will determine the veracity of the responses
and the intentions of the respondent,
inferential measurement of shadows & handwritten time direction cues,
in reserve, the campaign of the instigator of undefined character,
whose vast affirmation of occurrences
never just self
306. speaking on condition of anonymity,
faces charges, felony conspiracy
stop the bombing, eat the king
307. for large canvas or otherwise,
i’d want to show you as
only in so revealing being can i
308. the proximity in which you are moving.
As if we had never, and our breathing.
309. They come out for a funeral
to party. over this route man.
close by and tempting.
310. circle. this way, and stop,
everything’s like a prison
in this country.
311. Golden mean with spiral,
to bring to life
across the division of their
discovery and groupings, equivalating
capable harmony with full competence
and consistent excessive consideration.
312. add to this
the camouflage of concurrences between action
and transcription, and,
in a moment,
things become beautiful.
313. the scales you are enamored of creating,
armor born of positioning,
visible from space,
317. Attention modifiers, regularly.
318. portrayed, acting:
appropriation of interactive ritual,
tool for further communication,
single utterance revisited:
the minutiae of hand movement
319. It could be a scream play, really
anything you could. people
who are allowed to shoot you if
you supposedly point a gun at them
which i know by your character
that you would.
321. And I use it in other mudane-ish taskery about the place.
322. Galileo lived long enough
to inquire heavenward
because for 5 billion years
Jupiter’s mass has protected us by drawing
comets and the like to itself—
allower of our reactions.
323. One second, half a foot
from where predicted,
years earlier in a pile of stars
324. Destigmatizing the forbidden:
let us make a table of all their estimates,
though it is speedier to measure them
327. What the villagers saw that night:
excess past, where there is always a rhythm
there to rest understanding
328. a salt upon the earth:
the agent’s perspective.
protecting the water
330. a country on the moon, a
constellation visible only from
the southern hemisphere,
331. cast demonstration for the museum library.
selective-allowance evolution, the frequency of your economy of radiation,
whose time would be less of a villain:
nobody ever got out
just in time.
The comfort of control in a multi-instrument assault.
334. hand me your money Charlie
337. possession, portions of the whole from
the center of the senses
Festive, she loves people, to facilliate discussion,
500. this is what we were talking
about. and don’t brush too hard.
and crack in yo mouth.
i knew how to get around in that,
slain for land.
501. buy, repeatedly.
hidden lies and victor histories
900. & she kept one of my paintings.
I hope that she is somewhere safe and hapy.
A Dedication (Haunted House)
Grand Junction, or, the canyon opens its doors to you. Domesticated it: just an excuse to hunt it. Love it dearly!
Dante’s Inferno: when the entire process is eugenized, that is, mediated—why of course we will ask the parents, couldn’t you have done something? Didn’t you see the signs? We did.
Unforsake. A dedication, vows between us. In my excitement I did not notice the damage. At half the speed I extend more graciously. There is a story I would like to tell you. What it is, is connected with wires. Translated from the long and short imagined. Shaken and led.
This uncoerced importance is for you and yours in this, our time, friends whose vigilance to life’s encouragement preserves tomorrow’s revelations.