Raw Goods

this is called, "doing the laundry"

the important thing to remember is that stories, whatever their origins, must agree with the lies they modify. this is nothing new. you've probably heard it, or something like it, before. before what? before now, this. and before this, now. so, there will be no social contract, or if so, then only for the moment. how do we negotiate those absences of place and change, of tone and let? begin.

st. thomas had a legend, he was a doubter. st. augustine had a confession, he was a believer. so what do we do at the sites of our new constitutions? i wouldn't worry about it. "submit or delete, it's all the same." that's the cynic's line, i don't go by it. "the woman must be progressive, and the rise must be feminine." now, i know that's not quite right, but you don't mind, do you? perhaps you do, and i'm making a fatal error. uh-oh.

acker didn't play these word games, she wallowed in the shit. that was agreeable to her delivery: insistent, but not dependent. there is less time for these sort of allusions than. there is less room for these illusions than. there is less forgiveness for this sort of trickery than agreement will allow. so how do we go on? like this, apparently. also like that. maybe also...no. but still, "how are you? i am fine." the populists' route repeats.

who has received? assertions exercise patience, and mistakes exorcise insistence. so there, malfeasance! content, i depart, and we return, bedraggled like army chaplains up against the wall. this is the poetry of firing squads and evicted squats. how do we face the unknown? with a blindfold, or a clenched fist? perhaps better to stay low, keep moving, stick to shadows. light falls from the letters, leaving the spaces between in darkness. so we go

posted by judy j @ 3:15 PM