I Perform The Book Complete Metamorphosis

A map has to do with performance / A map performs as a map’s performance

I map a Book at the cusp of spoken Bereshit     I map the Book from the spoken Bereshit to the written Bereshit, a simultaneous but distinct Bereshit at the cut cup and cusp     The multiples of the map reveals itself as real multiplicity and real mappings, and I experiment with its maps: I myth its maps magnetic and magmatic and it smears chaos landscape     Book swims thin landscape not exactly mapped but sketches written and spoken Bereshit

I perform the Book as a map reading and the reading revolts against reading     The map mutinies multiplicity, midway revolutions of a new map

I open the Book of the map moonlight monochrome twin repeating elements     I open the map of the Book black canvas repeating eliminate leaned against a wall     (I lean the Book against walls my wall body rows / he who walks behind the rows     I open the map of the Book bubblegum pink peyote of the precipice     I open the Book of the map bubblegum pink PKD laser beam)     I beam the Book to the map repeating rows and repeating twin elements

Book sloughs serpent column serpent cylinder seductive sidewalk lemon yellow     (I loiter the lemon yellow labyrinth: I linger lemon laughter Yahweh     I look lemon yellow lark light central park in the dark Yahweh)     Book molts serpent skin and scattered maps and maps multiply horned mayflies

I map my body to the Book and the book to my body: both undergo a metamorphosis.  Book undergoes a complete metamorphosis and Book molts new maps.  I arrange the new maps in different combinations and perfume permutations, and the modular Book ribbons rhizome anew.  I map my body to the Book pink beam body without organs and I rearrange my organs through a modular metamorphosis.

A map has to do with performance and I map my body to Book acute performance and performing monomania     Book deep sapphire performs sap sip forest last supper     Deep sapphire Book performs excreted earth and compact earth girth alligator porous

A map has to do with performance and I perform the Book complete metamorphosis

A Map Has To Do With Performance

A map has to do with performance / A map performs as a map’s performance

A map has mud or mow     A map has lawn mower or muddy mud skipper

A muddy map meanders lawnmower magma, a magnetic word or language     A map meows mud an absurd oxbow language and I move map to map     I extend the map purple martins or magpies (I dream a nightingale and she introduces me to the combers   blackcap   bluebird   reed bird   stork     I dream her stork speeds in chariot wheels to the underworld, a katabatic map made of flocks of various birds)

A map has to do with performance and I ghostwrite for god     I ghostwrite rhizomic maps as goregrind gods     I ghostwrite god thought experiments and the tetragrammaton quantum tunnels through the Theater of the Absurd     A map has to do with performance and I ghostwrite performances within the sea of reeds     I map the location of the ten plagues and the frogs and locusts follow the directions of my map

I always visualize maps as different bodies of waters and the map never stays static but shifts constant flux and fluxus.  The dynamic map continually swarms sands of the desert and dislocated dunes (these sands double as bodies of waters).  Maps move maps and map live wild and active: movement of the map drives movement of the landscape.  The active map mirrors the erotic earth: its magmatic flows, its shifting and slipping faults, its tidal cycles.  The earth never ceases moving and the map never ceases moving.

[Asia sends me a map entitled “Level III Eco-regions of the Continental United States] I’m [such and such eco-region], I say.  [I’m such and such eco-region], says Asia.  Alaska is more subdivided than I expected, I say.  I knew it, says Asia.  All neurodivergent people love maps.  I didn’t even give you any context.  I just threw a map in your face and you’re like “Oh cool, Alaska”, says Asia.  Was this a secret test? I say.  No, I was looking at eco-regions to look for native plant species to plant in my yard and I thought you would like the map, says Asia.  I did like it, I say.

A map has to do with performance / A map performs as a map’s performance     I map multiples and multiplicities and I ghostwrite for god (you are the one who writes and the one who is written)     I write the god Book and the divine Book: I write the Book Child of Humanity and Human One

I map Book Child of Humanity and Human One     The Human Book performs blessingway wild word and I wire wild ben body     The Human Book maps walk wall ritual / ritual revels minimal monochromatic (I map minimal monochromatic and the body without organs and my human body shapes sharp heat     I map heat written and rewritten)     I map the Human Book into and onto performing organs / I perform a monochromatic map ostinato

I map Book Child of Humanity and Book Human One onto the minimal body without organs (my minimal body machines the Book monochromatic and the Book canvas crocodile)     The Book snaps crocodile bite and Book shakes human jagged     Book quakes an irregular map pulsed odd additive onto my body bodies

Not much difference exists between a map and a book: their differences write and rewrite the synergistic Book-Map.  Their differences drive alive the anarchic differences and I live in the anarchy of the map.  I thrive in the anarchy of the Book and I adore its flat map where even its topologies and elevation changes project flat into the languages of the Book.  The minimal map of the Book prophesies both directions at once (maps multiply multidirectional) and the minimal and rational intertwine human macrocosm and microcosm.  The Book as map bursts open into blue dragonflies and her words wing fly-by-wire over wild desert.  The Book-Map crocodiles snap swarming dragonflies and maps rain many wings, the sound of differences together.

So I have this student who is OBSESSED with maps and war history and foreign countries, says Asia.  It’s funny because every globe or map in a classroom he checks for accuracy and is demanding my coteacher gets a new globe because her globe puts Taiwan as a part of China.  He was drawing a German tank and he put an iron cross on it, and I was like “hey buddy, I know that you don’t mean anything by it, but I don’t want you to get in trouble. Is there a different symbol we can put on it?  What about an eagle?”  He just looked down and said “I don’t know how to draw that”.  So I pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper and drew the eagle symbol.  He silently watched me draw it, then when I was done he held it up to his tank drawing and he said, “it’s too big” but then carefully tucked my sticky note into his chromebook so I think he liked it, says Asia.

A map has to do with performance / A map performs as a map’s performance     I map the locations of the Book as dislocated and bilocated: Book locations look and lake allwhen and allwhere     Book looks maps when all directions and its where machines deserts and lakes     (I am the lake written and rewritten I am the desert)     Book maps blue dragonflies lawn drawing undressed     I draw Book maps undressed rainfall (maps that look like normal maps but are representing what anarchic non-hierarchical communities would look like, says Asia)     I undress in lawn pom-poms and rainfall rewrites rainbows as forest earth funk and horseback archers      (Rainbows map forest earth funk fire rainbow forest)

I repeat the Book red and I repeat the Book red maps     I repeat the Book red map reading rose secret road     I repeat Book map trees crags gorges river precipitous land various precipitous places, and the maps perform the paces     The maps perform precipitous places precipice red aporia     Maps rainfall porous aporia the Book full crag and gorge

I read the Book map precipitous displaced aporia and maps perform in the penal colony     Maps repeat in the penal colony red colonnade or pink out the corner (in the penal colony repeats its human maps red bodies book bloody)

I ghostwrite for god and I receive the rays of her disk when she lights up my bodies in the netherworld (when she passed by I enter into darkness)     I ghostwrite for god and a map has to do with performance     I ghostwrite the performance and I map the map worship     I perform the map worship written word work and wyrd work     I perform wyrd work map and I worship map woman and machine woman (head of horns   face of horns   neck of Horus The Goring One)

I recognize the rays of her disk and I map the disk.  I map her disk sermons to the dead and I prophesy her disk as dead and desert.  I prophesy her dead as the solar disk and the disk diverges to the solar anus.  I recognize the rays of her disk as desert revelation.  I recognize the rays of her disk and I map her disk as sea and sea.  I receive the wave rays of her sea and I worship her rays written on my body.  Her rays tattoo in the penal colony and reinscribe colony the ghostwritten Christina.  I receive her rays and map their rhizomes onto the increasing desert palimpsest.

A map performs as a map’s performance and I repeat the Book maps and performances     I repeat the Book human performance and map performs Book Child of Humanity     Book repeats many maps river time and time rivers     Book repeats time river time rivers precipitous places (I worship in the porous place and I pray in the precipitous places)     Book between map and place ghostwrites passions and passages

Precipitous Book maps porous plane plank narrow forest: her rays row forest narrow bay monochromatic     Plank marches monochromatic material multiple colors marble

I map the map mischievous machine Elvis, a DMT Towering Desert     I map the performing map of desert towers and lake bunkers     Maps whir water mischievous architecture (I fish lake Christianities)     I fish microcosm a return to melody: multiple maps meander multiple melodies     Melodies perform the map banishing circle and salt circles circling ben bodies

(You don’t have to worry about the changes, and you can do more with the (melody) line.  It becomes a challenge to see how melodically innovative you can be… Fewer chords but with infinite possibilities as to what to do with them.)

I move toward a modal map and a melodic map.  I perform the melody of the Book rather than the Book changes and its hermetic memory.  I model the melodic line and I map melody onto melody: I map a multidirectional melody.  Now a polyphony or homophony, the thick melody as fat melody projects its maps under earth netherworld.  Melody maps downward and upward thick pyramid Kingdom of the Skies.  I must continue to keep the melody and melodic map line in mind, and let the line write and rewrite towering thick melody (even a god phallic melody and a pornographic erect melody).

I map the line to the line I map the line the line melody (melody performs new now nonlinear)     I fuck with the line map contoured cup cobra     I fuck melody from circles cyclic rapid cycling and the lithium lamp oil receives the rays of her disc and lights up my bodies

A map has to do with performance / A map performs as a map performance

I map a Book melody     I map a Body music precipice on the motion of a sound that doesn’t begin and doesn’t end     I map a Book as a desert of line pulses and long tones coming together to yield a melody that never stops     I word an erratic and erotic melody (an erotic event explicit hitman pornographies) (AND GO TO BED she was a jazz club girl and made music for men only)

I map a Book melody and its contours trace monochromatic moonlight     Book repeats maps and maps map a melodic performance

The Book Bundles

The Book bundles the breakers of the Book a bastard bull Book     The Book bundles up against the animal brush of the Book and Book brandishes brush against broad bodies     The Book bundles the boulders of the Book, a stone brush bristle blush scarab

The Book bundles the whiplash rhinoceros beetle of the Book and I brush Book crossbow animals (I leave the frustrated shores and I embark on the Book     I could not have left the Book since: I could not have     Sometimes the space between the lines is so large I tread new ground)     The Book bundles a new Book groundless and Book plunges pure abyss     (This Book blossoms a What word and a Who word.  This Book blossoms an odd What and I do not know the What of the book but its beware.  Beware this Book and it swerves What word multidirectional.  The What word of the Book bundles beware the Book Animal: Beware the Book beast from the earth and beast from the sea.  This Book blossoms a bestial Book so What beware.) (I briefly hallucinate the Book improvising over the quartal harmony of Miles Davis’ So What and this entire What belongs to the Book: Beware the book contains everything her Who and What.)     This Book blossoms her What Word and her Who word     Her Word blooms beware the Book god goliath beetles

The Book bundles the breakers of the Book a bastard bull Book     The Book bundles up against the beetle brush of the Book and Book bombardier beetle breaches the Book

A Book Sea

A Book breathes 
Sea.  Sea of reeds weave
Book sea red breath and
Blue breath 
Banded ash pages.

A Book braids 
Sea.  Sea of reeds weed
Book coral red and 
Blue kelp clusters
Cool caldera pages.

A Book brews
Sea.  Sea of reeds wear
Book clamshell sheets
Blue and red 
Magmatic pages.

I Increase Anarchies

I increase anarchies I increase anarchic intensities I increase anarchies I increase anarchic intensities the dragon Sabbatai Sevi I increase anarchic several antinomian disintegrations

I increase anarchies I increase anarchies / I invoke wild earth

I invoke wild earth and I unearth new texts. I invoke new wild texts and the texts trade and taste new textures. New texts teases and tastes wild earth textures. I invoke wild earth texts and I wear them as earrings and jawbone jewelry. New texts erupt from the repetition of previous texts, wild earth word bursting from new wineskins. I invoke wild earth text and its textures tessellate volcanic-rhizomic. I unearth text wild anarchies.

I increase anarchies I increase anarchies intensities and immediacies / immediately he arose, took up the bed and went forth before them all I increase immediate anarchies wild earth I increase number upon the face of the earth and no one whose testicles are crushed or whose male organs is cut off shall enter the assembly of the LORD (I increase immediately and there be eunuchs, which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake) I invoke wild earth let the waters be alive with the swarm of living creatures and let the bird wing their way above the earth across the vault of heaven

If someone goes by the teaching of Christianity and what’s in the Bible only, says Asia, they aren’t going to get a form of anarchic Christianity or one that values equality and justice – that comes from them having a strong sense of equality and justice in them already. That driving force will cause them to shape Christianity. As in “this is good and just, therefore if Christianity is good and just, then it will look like this” instead of “well, the church says it’s good, therefore I’m going to shape my whole worldview to make that make sense”, says Asia. I think you make good points, I say. I will point out two things though: the Bible says a lot of contradictory things but I think one theme of almost all the prophets of the Old Testament are: your sins are you’re rich and fat, and you neglect the justice of God by not taking care of the orphan, the poor, the widow. A second point is a point from postmodern philosophy. Jacques Derrida thought all texts including scripture inherently contain the seeds of its own deconstruction. To simplify, the text always-already undoes and dismantles itself. So if the Bible is really about power and hegemony and oppression of non-Christians, then the Bible for Derrida always necessarily contains the seeds to undo that power. I think a value of having the driving force come from within Christianity is it is helpful for Christians stuck inside the structure. I really do think it cracks open that husk and dead shell of Christianity and opens it up for spirit of ripe fruit, of ripe living and sustenance and nutrition, I say. I agree with that, says Asia. I do think it holds the seeds for its own dismantling. Have I ever told you about a book called Small Gods by Terry Pratchett? I read it while on maternity leave and it was a salve for my little post-Christian soul. [Asia tells me the premise and summary of the book]. I just love it because at the beginning, Brutha is presented as simple and slow but shows this kind of non-violent strength, says Asia. Brutha acts like Christ, I say. Maybe Jesus Christ incarnated to keep God in check. I have told you about my idea before that God becomes completely God by becoming completely human, but maybe Jesus also acts as a sort of holding line to Yahweh, I say. Strength in kindness, says Asia.

I increase anarchies I increase anarchic intensities and immediately spirit drives into desert I increase anarchies / I invoke wild earth

I participate in anarchies as John Cage and Merce Cunning participated anarchies: not with abandon but an interest in creative anatomy. I anticipate as anatomy of the Book, and I try to create what Albert Ayler called putting the form in the free form. The Book contains form and structure but I prophesy a non-hierarchical form and a flat structure. I structure the Book flat and extended-undifferentiated while simultaneously teeming and swarming with multiplicities: an animated wild earth. I prophesy anarchies enveloping and then devouring Christianities. I prophesy an immediate anarchy always-already erupting and rupturing Body Earth.

An increasing anarchy speeds Taryn tumbled (Taryn tumbles ten ton tongue anarchies) Taryn speeds speakeasy tumbles bubble dance anarchies (thimble tumble bubble theatrics) I prophesy theatrics more repetition less density Theater less density mystery howling bone (ben bones howl a wild earth / earth repeats erotic anarchies)

I invoke wild waters anarchic earth (earth archives anarchy and antinomianism / a theater for nuclear semiotics) (Wild waters swarm wild: I worship wild woman winged wolverine Wild I worship fallen fallen is Babylon the great)

How is it that a heathen can write better religious narratives than religious people can? says Asia. How is it an atheist understands Christ better? I think an atheist comes to Christ with a different set of interpretations in mind, I say. A Christian grows up with the baggage of church doctrine and ready-set interpretations. An atheist can come to the text by itself. The text by itself is still infinite interpretable, but it is not confined by the interpretation of years and years of church. It is open. I think in general, openness is more Christ-like for me, I say.

I increase anarchies I increase anarchic intensities and I prophesy several antinomian disintegrations An anarchic Christ immediately stretches forth his hand and catches him An anarchic Christ prophesies, and some fell on stony ground, where it had not much earth; and immediately it sprang up because it had no depth of earth I increase anarchies and I invoke wild earth I invoke deep earth entirely stone desert: stone bone sound soft whirlwind

I language a creative anarchy and open ant whirlwind Anarchy steps theater tetrahedron octahedron / tetrahedron tendons agglutinate long filaments I language anarchic fragments and sustained tone patterns (I exchange one pattern for a bone pattern for a stone pattern) Taryn tetrahedron tumbles Taryn terakaidecahedron Taryn tall a wall apricots (she wanders tetrahedron ant lions)

I meander language fragments (an anarchic fragment further forests) I meander language fragments immediate magick (greek magical papyri play rhizome rituals and magick multiplicities) (I am not an atheist but I am somewhat of a radical materialist. I believe in the physical and material and in its scientific analysis. However, when it comes to my own creativity, I recall what Henri Matisse said when asked if he believed in God: “Yes, I do, when I work.” When I write and create I feel something like the mystical and apophatic and the prophetic spirit happen within me. I think non-religious people might call it “the muses” or “connection with the universe” or “psychological flow” or other terms. Because I grew up Christian, I use the terminology of Christian mysticism. When I create I feel the same as when I saw God face-to-face during my mystical experiences. I do not believe in magick, except when I write magick. I do not believe in the afterlife except when I write and make the afterlife. I’m a radical materialist until I create the apophatic and mystical in my writing, prophecy, and creativity.)

I increase anarchies I increase anarchic intensities and intensities invade leopard language I meander language fragments, immediate magick and immersed subterranean rituals (I meander ritual and rhizome) Language adds oxbow ben adam sacraments / wild earth eucharist Language add adds oxbow / oxbow meanders figure with meat Cave mouth erupts eucharist oxbow and oxbow erotic (magical geometries and non-euclidean magicks)

I increase anarchic intensities I increase anarchies / I invoke wild earth and wild Book (We left our frustrated shores behind and embarked on your book You could have not left the book since you could not have But sometimes the space between the lines is so large that you seem to tread on new ground The margins are so wide The book chains us together) Book blessingway wire wire word ben body Book blessingway wall walk body without organs minimal monochromatic Book blessingway wire wall walk body lean: body light lean mellow monochromatic

An anarchic Book blesses Book An anarchic Book blesses Book increases An increase anarchic Book intense I increase anarchies / I invoke wild book and wild earth Book wild wild whirlwind anarchic An anarchic Book blesses Book wild

I embark on an anarchic Book. I embark on the anarchic Book and Book builds flat Babel. Book builds horizontal Babel and Babel sprawls an anarchic body without organs. I embark on babel banks of Book and book rivers horizontal. Book meanders anarchic and opens oxbows (oxbows appear as another open Book). Oxbow opens a cobalt Book and its river pages salt horizontal. I embark on the indefinitely extended anarchic Book and Book babels a multidirectional horizontal. Book babels both directions at once. The direction immediately babel anarchic and reiterate anarchic Book.

They aren’t respected jobs and are considered feminine because they are lesser, says Asia. Empathy makes you weaker in our current system. Imagine if those institutions were owned and operated by the community instead of some CEO who doesn’t even live there looking to siphon as much money out of the community as they can. That’s another thing, resource are very important and you cannot dismantle power structures without establishing more equal access to resources, says Asia. Do you think there’s spirituality in an anarchic community or if there are truly no gods, no masters? I say. I don’t see why spirituality couldn’t be in an anarchist society, but the “us versus them” mentality has to die, says Asia.

I increase anarchies I increase anarchic intensities I increase anarchies / I invoke wild earth I increase number upon the face of the earth and the breath of Elohim overs above the waters Waters meander oxbow lakes, her anarchic Book lights and her face hovers over waters and turbulent waters reveal her faces

I Make A Mirror

I make a mirror     I make a mirror face-to-face     I make a mirror face-to-face with her forest     I face her forest and her field mirrors my face     Forest mirrors pretty polyrhythm schism and pretty how town

I make a mirror     I move mere mention     I move stone moor more mere mention (her mirror moves meteor manipulation)     Her meteor here I wake up mirror     I mirror and I make and wake mirror mere mast or bronze casting     I move mirrors more waters water more water mara scar wave invisible     More material material mirror sand work     Sand sorts mirrors     Sand sorts monuments and mirror more momentum: mere momentum slings middle and meddle language     Mirror stings dream tonal stones     Stone mirror stone sounds tonal eccentric flint canoe with passengers

I look at the mirror as a meteor.  My face mingles with iron.  I move toward the mirror and it strikes my face as a meteorite.  My face fuses with the iron (staring at this Parisian sex flick where the characters don’t meet, the characters don’t speak, and the characters are like mirrors facing mirrors: space always expanding).  I look at a photograph of Christina or her mirror and I see my face expanding into space.  I move towards her mirror, Christina’s mirror, and I only see my face.

(And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days)     I say stray earth structure, she with he her metal earth: memetic earth hermetic work (People frequently ask me what my definition of music is.  This is it.  It is work.)     I work mirror written rewritten mirror earth     Mirror earth moon mirrors metal metal metallic     (I look mirror mirror shellac or shaker     I look metallic medicine cabinet copycat plexiglass)

I make mirrors     I make mirrors mere motion

I Want Dinosaurs All The Time

I further forest fragment face-to-face / forest furthers fragment face-to-face

Forest future float further forest: forest futures floats further forests forests (Forests multiplicities fragments fragments) Forest future float further forest my fractured spinal column

Future forest furthers future forests (I further my feel for these fragments and I float flush with forest languages) Future forest furthers future forest not a disjunct forest but shares forest furniture

Forest future float further forest my fractured spinal column City columns cling cord crisp cookie cutter shark morning Not disjunct forests but further forests shared furnitures (as soon as someone dies, frenzied construction of the future shifting furniture, etc: futuromania)

A forest futuromania meteors manic: an iron chair fragment, a steel chair leg, a brass basin bottom I scavenge forests for further metals

I find fragments in the forest and I further forest fragments face-to-face. I find fragments in forests. I find fragments in the forest and fragments time travel past and future. Future forest fragments send apocalyptic transmissions dreamward (You are receiving this broadcast in order to alter the events you are seeing You are seeing what is actually occurring for the purpose of causality violation). The future of the forest is the future of the fragment. Whether I name them fragments or patterns, they extend far into the future. I extend future by extending forest fragments.

Future forest floats peacock feathers and feathers tickle my fractured spinal column (I listen here a new city in the future and Christina eavesdrops on an old wire or crystal radio Here, here it is, the places where you lived, the place where you rose transparent a ghost) Future forest floats fragments fashion further blown ash I catch ash forest passages and I pursue passages into the future

I pursue forest passages into the future and I make future mirror

I make a mirror fragment I make a mirror forest fragment further into field Forest field mirror mirror passages schism polyrhythm Forest mirrors fugues with fragments and the melodic cells mirror polyrhythm and text passacaglia

I pursue passages and I prepare text fragments as passacaglia. The text passacaglia grounds my grammar even as it disintegrates in language experiments. I pursue passages through the forest and even routine fragments reveal undiscovered Christina ghosts or Asia conversations. Passages spiral into the forest labyrinth and I treat the walls as a lydian fugue and a catholic mass in mixolydian. A lydian forest punches firefly lights into the future.

I love dinosaurs, I say. I want dinosaurs all the time. Dinosaurs are cool, says Asia. Do you have some dinosaurs you like a lot? I say. As a kid I always thought Utah Raptor was super cool, I say. I think dinosaurs are cool but I’m not very good at remembering their names, says Asia. I liked the very tall long necked ones as a kid. Brachiosaurus, I think. Sauropods, says Asia. Next time when you’re at a museum, just ask them, I say. George, Bob, John. Brachiosaurus is cool, I say. I particularly like prehistoric plants, says Asia, and how vastly different ecosystems were then how we think of them. Like how grass is relatively new and that ground covering was mostly ferns. My favorite part of the Jurassic Park exhibit we went to were the bits about the plants. Apparently fern savannas were a thing. Lots of dinosaurs are cool though, she says. How come grass is relatively new? I say. Do you know what made ferns so advantageous during that time? If I were to take a guess, says Asia. I’m not an expert but I would say it’s because most grass species fall under the flowering plant family and flowering plants just didn’t exist at that time. Out of the non-flowering plants, ferns would provide good ground cover and grow quickly which is what you would want to fill that niche. I would imagine that most environments at the time were very humid so ferns make sense, says Asia. That sounds reasonable to me, I say. I don’t know if you know this but forests develop in stages, says Asia. The very first stage usually involves some kind of quick hardy “weed” like dandelions. These plants are called “scouts” and I think this is adorable but they do “scout out” the area and work at keeping soil in place and starting the ecosystem in the soil. The scout plants spread, die, decompose, enriching the soil and then come fast growing shrubs then trees. We like to think of trees as independent but they aren’t. A sapling can’t grow on its own: it needs cover from the sun and rich soil, says Asia. I actually didn’t know anything about scouts, I say. I have decided I want to hear everything you know! I say. I distinctly remember one time my very bright grandfather found a sapling on the outskirts of his property, says Asia. If I remember correctly, it was a tulip poplar tree and he wanted to dig it up and move it somewhere else. Me and my sister were like “I don’t know, it seems like it’s doing pretty good where it is” and it was the middle of the fucking summer in south Louisiana, it was hot. He wouldn’t listen to us, so he dug it up and moved it and it died in less than a week, says Asia.

I further the forest fragment face-to-face / forest futures fragment face-to-face

Forests further further forests / I further further forests by fugitive fragments I plane my fragments as herbaceous pioneers and shrubby pioneers Fragments cover quick fern fragments / stubby stalactite savannas (I stretch the savanna as extended pattern and fragment) I do not develop the forests but extend the forests I extend ben birch bodies blackberry bodies scotch broom bodies ben hinnom Forest repeats river echoes time / the only water in the forest is the river Forest lingers longer rivers: prolonged river pulses secondary-growth forest into old-growth forests (big shade and big mud) I prolong forest rivers rivers snake scale slightly different iterations surrounded by different silences

I search the forest for fragments and I find slightly irregularities sustained in the scouts and fragments The slight irregularities disrupt soil and explore new ground (fragment firewood wires wild new word) Fragments shimmer slight forest irregularities Pioneer plants extend forest soil then this happens and then this other thing happens

I extend the wild land set aside for hunting. Wild land extends open wood haunted and the witches gather ghost kind in secret forest shelters. I search forest silva sylvan split selves: I find my hunter-gatherer self and my bewitched sorcerer self through the wild forest mirror. I extend forest and field wild wood and rivers map multiplicities through the tree shadows. In shade, I conjure mirror forest and forests within forests wild: wild sylvan silver scouts extended sheets of sound.

Forest future float further forest her haunted face Her face fay and her face sylvan looks wild into my eyes gothic My face surfaces in the architecture of the secret forest city, and city mirrors my fractured spinal column My face city sylvan clings crisp to my cookie cutter shark mourning

Forest future face wraps snow around further feathers / feathers flint fragment zone of exclusion mutated forests (luminous limestone infiltrated forests lurk a long witch light light rivers) Luminous forests fragments find my frenzied face and I swing bat below monomania Manic forests mixed our forest Christina face-to-face: our face mourns videotape torso body horror

I thought of an art concept earlier, says Asia. Maps that look like normal maps but are representing what anarchic non-hierarchical communities would look like. I also thought of a concept for a xenofiction. It’s a post-apocalyptic xenofiction where corvids, cephalopods, slime molds (and maybe like dolphins and orcas) have gained sentience and formed their own societies. The story will be told from the point of view of a corvid named Fermi (like Fermi’s Paradox) and explore ideas of what is intelligence, cohabiting with other creatures, and similar themes to the Fermi Paradox except the other intelligent life is on the same planet. I was thinking the slime molds could use and repurpose leftover human technology and when they come into contact with other slime molds, they become one intelligence. I was also thinking of an entire forest being a sentient creature, says Asia.

I further forest fragment face-to-face / forest furthers fragment face-to-face Forest drags sling furniture snow to snow silicone breast implants (I bare my breasts forest blue sapphires) (My breasts blaze blue fire abyss and forest fangs forest fitted blue fires) Forest furthers fire fragments and benjamin bare breasted / blue breasted ben hinnom

I Do Not Develop The Rose But Extend The Rose, Part 2

I do not develop but I extend: I extend desert spiders and sand scarabs     I repeat desert sprawl spiders speed and I extend sidewind word (word sidewinds Asia With Weevils a winter music)     I do not repeat but red repetitions spider ribbons and spiders wind a knot not knot but forest gnosis (spiders spindle Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil)     Spiders spill new knot neumes, a monody of the forest

Forest repeats flesh patterns: I extend flesh     I extend flesh float loot sound slant     I extend a spider flesh float loot forest bioluminescence and my word weeps flash fluorescent flesh     I extend flesh not form but scale (spiders scale wet stalactite word)

I now frequent the forest as much as the desert.  Forest fragments do not differ much from desert fragments / desert fragments do not differ much from desert fragments.  Forest frequently forms fragments and forest adds fragments through findings.  Forest finds forest thrown into a fragmented desert, and desert repeats the forest.  I frequent the forest because the forest figures foreshadowed human flesh: flesh son of man and flesh word woman (spiders spill from her mouth: spider speech and arachnid prophecy).

Forest repeats flesh pattern and pattern recognition     I extend the pattern and it covers the entirety of flesh an overgrown forest     I extend my flesh forest float loot sound wall slant / I wall slant shared water waver matter     (Forest and fragment slant towards my watery body and my body prophesies body)


I have been thinking about what it means to prophesy again because I have been writing about it a lot, I say to Asia.  I did tell you I have been talking to someone who absolutely adores my writing, yeah?  She was very touched by some of my writing on prophecy because she’s also bipolar and experienced similar delusions of grandeur and she appreciated how I managed to ground my prophecy about god.  I told her:  

“When I stopped practicing as a Christian, I realized a part of me that wants to prophesy – and to speak truth about the world and humanity – still existed, but I realized it was not a prophecy rooted in god but a prophecy rooted in me and being in relationships with other people.  It’s about wanting to create a radical and inclusive community on earth in the now, I guess.”

I think art and storytelling and mythmaking are all integral to this prophetic process.  Prophecy is art and narrative and it just so happens to be the main narrative is Ben and Asia.  I think I prophesy to us as well and in doing so it speaks to others in prophecy too, I say.  I think I would agree with that, says Asia.


I prophesy art and narrative: I prophesy forest fragments     Forest repeats flesh patterns: I extend forest     I extent forest floats a lucid light lucy in the sky with diamonds     Forest extends lucid dreams and arachnid army australopithecus     Forest extends floating flesh and flesh flash points: forest points loose loot sound wall slant groove     I groove walls walk slanted water: I grove wavering pomegranates     Her myth shifts gospel of matthew shoe cabinet (my medicine cabinet molts slow carcass madeleine)     Slow simple cedar shares forest medicine (cedar bows forest cello door cedar bows door dance desert dome or deal distance)

The leaves of a rose grows in clusters of five, nine, or thirteen leaves     Between Elohim and Elohim, five words which grammar five divine leaves

I do not develop language but extend languages     Languages repent echo river time     Languages linger repetition longer: prolonged river scale slightly different iterations surround by different silences     The slight irregularities ink exploration     I prophesy subtle shimmers: this happens then this happens and then this other thing happens

Leaves cluster unique language as god grammars.  Leaves linger a unique new york language and languages run retrograde run languages and language leaf language turns left rhizome: leaf language twists lift language.  I look and her language places lampstands beneath the leaves.  Leaves do not lessen but amplify the language lin guts.  Leaves do not lessen but generate new grammars (my eternal grammar: through the yard of blonde girls).

I do not develop the languages but extend the languages

I extend the rose which grows in clusters of five, nine, or thirteen leaves

I Do Not Develop The Rose But Extend The Rose, Part 1

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, or thirteen leaves     Between Elohim and Elohim, five words with grammar five divine leaves

Leaves layer a single notes in various patterns: leaves loop a single sustained wavering line     Leaves sustain single tone fragments and I feel the fragments as manuscripts     I fold fragments as scripture (the only scripture unravels leaves of grass     the only scripture spools skin son of man)

The leaves of the rose repeat a void and repeat the void     Rose leaves repeat void commercially available fluorescent light     (Rose leaves exposed bone the void matrix)     Rose and void fragment my body albeit in non-overlapping fragments     Rose and void find desert in disjunct fragments: I rearrange the fragments in varying leaf clusters     I arrange the irregular line rhythm up rhythm down desert, and I surprise the sand cats with syncopation     I syncopate fragments as horn hits in the chromatic desert     I comb sardine sand dollar chromatic / surprise polymeter sand cats     (Desert combs chromatic panic attacks     Fragments attack sudden staccato)

I examine the fragment as the flesh of my body.  I feel my flesh in fragments and my body breaks disjunct across the sand bar.  I examine the fragment and feel out its experiments: fragment experiments brief flashes of bioluminescence light in the bathypelagic zone.  I alternate light fragments and word fragments to find a new mosaic sheets of sound: I search a sheets of sound collage bricoleured from bioluminescent and fucked-body syntax.  I examine the fragment as flint or granite, and its friction rubs rose light and light escaping the eye.  I examine the eye of the fragment and the fragment of the eye.  My eyes break into oceanic fragments interrupted by jar jellies and tentacle tasers.

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, or thirteen leaves     I grow leaf fragments: I grow the single sustained fragmented forest (fragments fragment     fragment fragment: fragment forest fragments)     Forest fragment looks fresnel lens lambda lamb of god (lamb of god who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on this machine forest and forest monster)     Forest ferments in fragments, a holy spirit sputnik syntax     Line fragments blur forest light lobe lizards: low lizards scissor texture

Leaf fragments refract fractal textures     Low lizard scissor textures fragments larva lizard lava textures    (I do not explain the textures but revel in their kinesthetic rubble)     Larva light loud lizard texture, a line refracting lower and higher registers     Larva lava light beach lizards longer stone length: lizard bench press beach (I rapidly rearrange the beach glass fragments and sand textures)

A past Asia had this story idea, I say.  A person in a haunted house but discovering the ghosts are all different versions of themselves.  I was thinking what different versions of ben would haunt a house: a depressed sullen ben, a manic crazy ben, etc.  Like 13 Ghosts, I guess, except it’s all you, I say.  Oh damn, that’s a good idea, says Asia.  I’m a genius.  Too bad I can’t remember anything, she says.

I don’t remember fragments but they ghost as beach glass and discarded rose leaves     (Fragments remember for me in the form of beach foam ghosts) (You are a genius, I say to Asia.  That’s why you have me to remember for you.  I don’t remember anything either.  That’s why I write: write to remember, I say.)     I don’t remember fragments but beach ghosts chant the leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, or thirteen leaves     Leaves linger a stone tape on beach beaches and volcanic pebbles     (I parable pebbles and paddles, a pouring out of holy ghosts) (I prepare the parables of the holy ghost as a division of thirteen ghosts)

Thirteen ghosts garment beach body without organs     Thirteen ghosts gown beach crown of thorns / theater of the absurd     Beach inhabits different bens as ghost fragments and I play the beach pebble bodies     I play beach pink forest starfish     Starfish fragment YHVH yosemite and I yoke myself to maypole ritual     I make a maypole triptych from rose leaves and they cluster blood clot fragments     Triptych tile repetition Morton Feldman fragments (Patterns are complete in themselves and in no need of development, only extension.  My concern is: what is its scale when prolonged, and what is the best method to arrive at it?)

I forest fragments which are complete forests in themselves, but I continue to extend the forest.  I populate the forest with roses and their leaf clusters extend a forest clustered white and pink.  I fragment, which are complete fragments in themselves and their selves beach flesh.  Their selves befriend flesh: hail the new flesh.  My flesh floats forest fragments and I extend my flesh as a spore colony body horror.  My forest appendages proliferate fragments.

Patterns are complete in themselves, and in no need of development, only extension     I do not develop but extend / I only repeat fragment developing variation variation     I don’t repeat repetition now knot knot: not knot but know knot beach beach and grocery aisle     I walk no repetition upward grocery aisles and its islands superimpose beaches     Grocery aisles meander interior laboratory corridors and secret bases in comic books     I repeat no repeat pail sail knots: clipper variations barber development

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves     Leaves link patterns and fragments     Leaves link link to the past patterns and fragments of the masamune     Leaves link a rose language roses rhizome     I do not develop the roses but extend: their stem extension swashbuckles door hinge   hinge open language man o’war

I play with patterns but the patterns puzzle me.  Patterns play me as much as I play the patterns, and their challenges charge several failed experiments on the page.  I compose pages of patterns complete in themselves, and I love their alternating light and dark on the page.  I accept my failures as still-interesting experiments and explorations, and I never stop exploring.  I explore cave pattern experiment and desert patterns exploration no end (I play a desert music: it is a principle of music to repeat the theme.  Repeat again and as again as the pace mounts.  The theme is difficult but no more difficult than the facts to be resolved).  The patterns are difficult but no more difficult than the pages to be resolved.

I do not develop but extend: I extend leaf clusters in five, nine, and thirteen leaves, and the leaves scale large orbits (the Book not a map, but a many-body problem composed of many orbiting galaxian systems)     I repeat the roses, for there is a rose and then there is a rose     I repeat the roses Asia Rhizome and Asia With Weevils and we share the forest spider word

Yesterday, one of my coteachers was talking about stepping on spiders with another teacher, says Asia.  The other teacher said, “Don’t you hate it when you step on them and a bunch of babies run out?” and my coteacher said “I hate it when they do that.”  I butted in and said, “THEY didn’t do that.  YOU are the one that stepped on them.”  We also got a new student yesterday who was wearing a Slipknot shirt.  My coteacher told me the t-shirt made her uncomfortable because it was demonic, and I was like “Ma’am, it’s a generic band t-shirt.  I don’t think that a 12-year old is a devil worshipper,” says Asia.  Asia, great defender of spiders, I say.  

There is a rose and then there is a rose: her rose with leaf clusters of five, nine, and thirteen tent a stairway of spiders     Rose architects arachnid clusters and cicada crowds, and I compose a stochastic spider melody     I connect a spider medley of leaf clusters and her harmony arranges spiders into stochastic vertical columns

Prophecy Of The Rose

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves

Leaves leaven light and even light leaves leaven light uneven lights the bubblegum gradient of the rose

Leaves leaven elephant light glacial insects (glacial insects glint light gradient to gradient the grand green of the rose) Leaves layer elephant lights light cassette tape loops Loops light leaves glaciers / glacial lights sharpen leaf ice

Leavens glisten glacier light light rib erosion Light erodes insect leaves turn inside you Leaves turn haft half stone insects (insects select light glacial erratic) Leaves turn rocking light rotations and I imbibe leaf light I imbibe light insect inlets and inlets turn leaves looking I look leaf light labyrinths (to write leaf labyrinths look late Morton Feldman and I draw the desert with curtains drawn)

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves Thirteen leaves thread tense textures: thirteen leaves trusses textures and tensions present tense

There is a rose and then there is a rose: the rose reveals real. There is a rose and the rose reveals a rare rhizome and a real rhizome, and the rhizome plays the labyrinth of leaf clusters. There is a rose and then there is a rose, and I remember this rose in rhizome. This rose rhizome repeats leaves and clusters, a grand green labyrinth and a labyrinth grand guinol. I remember this rose in the multiplicity of its clusters and these clusters cling to a city desert crowded by coyotes. The rose of the coyote slices canine leaves and the leaves lace additional light from the desert skies.

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves Leaves lengthen labyrinth light vertical visible Leaves tongue a vertical light verdigris a generous leaf light labyrinth Present tense labyrinth lights a verdigris gut babel (babel gog and magog tower of babel) Leaves imprint insect tensions and textures mixtures tension mixtures night train (night train tags leaf tracings and light green nocturnes) Leaves cluster night train wheels and vertical telegram wire (I work fly-by-wire wheel clusters clusters creep rib cage constellations)

The leaves of the rose cluster where I wire textures (textures flirt night train present tense) Present tense looks leaves the very pulse of the machine / machines cluster thirteen leaf maximums I look at the lake water maximums and lake murmurs wire water light fragments

I flutter through leaf fragments and light fragments. Fragments flood an elephant light over the rose. Rose clusters flush to fragments and I fit the fragments present tense. I fit the fragments fidget and fractal, and the fragment fractals face Christina mourning and gog and magog. Fragments only transition to other fragments, an endless night train. It must always be night, otherwise they wouldn’t need the lights.

The leaves of the rose cluster present tense fragments Fragments wheel wire leaf whirligig: fragments from the Yod of the whirlwind and the tempest El Shaddai (El Shaddai wires fragments a telegraph tetragrammaton) Leaves of the rose cluster god fragments gog and magog and I rearrange my guts in rose clusters I arrange the bloom of my guts in leaf fragments (wheel fragment textures tress wire tenses wheel fragment flex fly-by-wire wild word) Fragment, wire leaf whirligigs: single notes in various patterns

(Single leafs in various patterns Single fragments in various patterns)

Single leafs in various patterns cluster various patterns Fragments in various patterns vine vertical verdigris fragments in grid (I draw grids fragment in graphite and I indulge in a fragmented minimalism) Single notes in various patterns sound leaves in clusters of five, nine, and the thirteen Leaves in various patterns lure light inland: a single sustained wavering light and a single sustained wavering light Leaves look light and line look fragments

You said this about my work a bit ago, I say to Asia.

[It’s bold and provocative, a big fuck you to the church, says Asia. But it’s also a hand reaching out to the part of yourself that has been excluded and others on the margins, looking them in the eyes and saying “you belong here, come as you are.” That’s prophesy to me. You job is to speak truth and comfort to those that have been marginalized by the church…]

Do you think my writing still does this? I say. I think it’s good to check to see if it’s prophesying properly. OK, let me be clear, says Asia. Your prophesying can change and still be “proper”. I do think this element of it has shifted some and you yourself have distanced yourself from church, she says. What do you think it has shifted to? Towards you and your relationships with others, says Asia. I am curious in what ways you feel that is prophetic or the prophetic spirit, I say. Can you tell me what it means for something to do prophetic? says Asia. I feel like I have a pretty loose definition and I have to make sure we are close to the same page, she says. I think my definition is very close to an encounter William Blake has in a few of his works, I say. This is from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell where Blake meets Isaiah and Ezekiel and he asks what Isaiah what made him think that God spoke to him:

Isaiah answered: I saw no God, nor heard any, in any finite organical perception: but my senses discovered the infinite in every thing, and I was then persuaded and remained convinced: that the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for the consequence but wrote…

I also think of the following lines by William Blake:

A Poet a Painter a Musician an Architect: the Man or Woman who is not one of these is not a Christian You must leave Fathers and Mothers and Houses and Lands if they stand in the way of Art

OK, simplify that into a single sentence, says Asia. I don’t think prophecy can be simplified into the sentence but sure: prophecy is the storytelling that realizes and brings about the creative anarchic community of things. Some people think that’s divine or the Kingdom of God. Then why wouldn’t your writing be prophecy? says Asia. I was more curious how you thought me writing about myself and relationships fit into prophecy, I say. Does your definition differ than mine significantly? Not by much, no, says Asia. But I’ll be honest with you, even if my definition was very different, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t have a concrete idea of prophecy outside of speaking and reaching people in some way. If you say what you write is prophecy, then your idea of what is and what isn’t is more important than mine, she says. I ask you though because I trust your judgment and I think it’s important to check and reevaluate I am prophesying what is true. I do consider you an important creative collaborator of my work even if it’s indirectly, I say. I just don’t think that I can say for sure what is true and what will speak to you, says Asia. Is me writing about me and my relationships prophecy for you? I say. Yes, because you are writing what is true for you, says Asia. If it’s true for you then if you feel it’s prophecy – I write our friendship in a true way, I say. Yes, says Asia.

The leaves of the rose grow in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves There is a rose and then there is a rose: I prophesy roses I prophesy the rose rhizome and multiplicities roses multidirectional I prophesy multidimensional fragments and fragments fractal present tense tensions textures (textures taryn ten thousand things)

I prophesy textures and threshold Textures tone and intone a prophetic threshold and light liminal light

I prophesy present tense textures and I tent prophetic fragments (I grapple and wrestle with the Book as prophecy, and I grapple with wrestle with myself as prophet, this Ben Adam and Ben Hinnom vision. What the book prophesies and my identity as prophet continually shifts and transforms. I continue to evaluate and reevaluate this prophecy and what it means to inhabit the prophet body and visionary body. I continue to resonate with William Blake’s visions and insights on prophecy: prophecy arrives with what might be called a Quaker Inner Light, or a ground of soul that boils over with a universal human insight. This prophecy cannot be separated from art-making, myth-making, and storytelling. My prophecy transparently struggles with what it means to prophesy and for all the better, because it cannot remain stagnant. Prophecy is process, even if it must continue in mournings, messes, masses, weddings, and fragments.)

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves I prophesy rose leaf and leaves of grass and single notes in various patterns Leaf and leaves wire longer a single sustained wavering light and a single sustained wavering light Irregular leaves light line rhythm up rhythm down desert (desert dances up distance down distance delicious roses)

Single notes in various patterns cluster irregular lived irregular lights (my eyes have slightly irregular shapes and my iris opens a shaped canvas)

Irregular leaves line rhythm up rhythm down chromatic desert

The desert rose rarefies in dream. Leaves distill and condense into a material leaf and a leaf maximally metaphysical. This rose of sharon speaks in holy spirit tongues, a violent pink rose prepared from pentecost. The desert rose scales chromatic desert colors and I pick up the modal leaves in scalar fragments (fragments form a pantonal Book of Sand). The coyote cells inharmonic shards of rose: for there is a rose and then there is a rose. The desert rose condenses in the coyote dream and we must walk dreaming. The rose and the coyote walk dreams, and Christina and Ben walking dreaming. The desert rose scales Kindred in chromatic pink and saturated raw red. (When I put a green, it is not grass. When I put a blue, it is not sky).

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen, and I have a vision of nine and thirteen I have the thirteenth Christina vision, and she emerges from the desert rose rock river fragments (For the rose reveals rebirth There is a rose and then there is a rose red rebirths I have a vision of Christina’s corpse as Tiamat: and the Lord stood upon Tiamat’s (Christina’s) hinder parts and with his merciless club he smashed her skull He cut through the channels of her blood, and he made the North wind bear it away into secret places (Jesus prays in the desolate place, the secret place of Christina’s hollowed-out body She tents open Lake Galilee tempest / shelter from the storm mechagodzilla skull) He split her up a flat fish in two halves, one half of her stabilized as a covering of heaven… (If Christina only remains as a corpse, I will transform her corpse into a Shekinah canopy; I will tan her skin for the Book anthropodermic bibliopegy. I do not know if I survive without Christina, but if I do, like Marduk, I will fashion creation recreation of Book and recreation of ben adam, my soul and body Ben Book Adam Kadmon. I don’t know if I survive Christina what Christina when Christina hollow earth – first wedding night first mourning night. Now night, Christina Babylon gores my body agharta).

The leaves of the rose grows in clusters of five, nine, and thirteen leaves