Category: Uncategorized

The Sun Up There

The sun up there up there

Sun leaks lent leak loose myriad light     Sun leaks lossless light lobster light unleavened lights     Sun leaks nonlinear the sun up there

Sun up there up there and there is no there there     There is no there there excess sun nothing

I look sun Son of Man and sun Human One, and the One – nothing announces nothing and gives nothing and no thing sun.  I gaze into the sun, the sun grazing upon my body harvest.  Sun harvests humans and Human One and I wear myself out decomposing organs.  I wear myself out and my body melts in the gut of suns there there.  Cubist sun reconfigures my body with flat squares, trapezoidal and rectangular planes that overlap and interrupts, and sun color light leaks out there outward.  My organs decompose light outward and the plane overlaps daughters of men and sons of god, allwhen myth – there there myth – the sun up there myth.

I think of Pando and our histories, our stories, our myths, our narratives, I say.  Pando isn’t one thing.  Our friendship isn’t one thing.  But today I think of our history and our overcoming of conflicts and how our friendship prophesies.  That’s our roots entangled too, I say.  That’s a pretty good way to put it, says Asia.

There is no there there except sun myth and son of man myth and mythologies there
	That’s our histories.  Our stories.  Our stories.
	Our story and our friendship isn’t one thing.
	Our stories.  Our myths.  Our friendships
	Prophesy.
The sun up there up there leaks cubist myth light and crystal story there there     Light swap swath swing sweat swear languages     Human oath glossolalias sun outer darkness dark barbed beetle burn / dark barbed bow sun barbecue


//
The sun up there up there knows its language

Like languages count suns nemesis
	(I wish the sun had its binary star Nemesis – 
	I wish it existed but sometimes, 
	reality is not as interesting as the theoretical – 
	thankfully this is rare)
Like sun languages count coastline collarbones (my organs decompose in the sun)

Like count many counts plural suns     Like count corrodes plural zero and zero there silly string / sun membranes
	(language in the membrane
	language got no brain)
Like sun language myth zero
	(that’s put histories our 
	and own its our friendship
	our roots stories isn’t overcoming
	entangled)

My membrane language count sun language magnetic monopoles / our one of the myths thing     but conflicts     that      (there is no there there but sun up there up there)

The sun up there knows its zero language and myth-history at the zero
//


Sun up there up up there

Sun looks loops light and lights and light light leak present future     Light myth leaks myriad light dyads (power cords chords sun dangled strangles)     Lewd sun dangles dry desert myth myth map outer darkness     (Cubist light overlaps darkness / squares and trapezoids illuminate decomposing organs)

Sun language interleaves zero light and I play dark history.  I play leaked outer darkness and sunlight does not dispel dark but fuses with it.  The sun up there tunes dark theater and I play black paintings: I scratch into suns monochromatic paintings, color field wheel inside color freely wheel.  Dark history fuses with coastal language, and my organs decompose on beaches.  I play like a plan starting point flat surfaces (of prophesied narratives isn’t   that’s stories root pretty).  I play sun language changing the direction of its moment (Our think thing Pando.  Friendship how to entangles.  How to entangled will change its dimensions).

I have been thinking about silence in my writing, I say.  I want to leave more space on the page, a contemplative space to let words breathe.  I’m having a hard time though leaving my dense paragraphs, I say.  Take them and move them somewhere else, says Asia.  The paragraphs?  Yes.  Two pieces of writing.  Chopped meat, says Asia. […] Less words and more empty space, she says.

	(I to let the dense of have to leave
	words of paragraph
	writing
	been more breathe

	Take
	chopped
	thinking space

	I’m there meat like
	about on having and lets 
	silence then a more voids
	in page hard them and 
	my a time somewhere more)

I look the sun up there up there (up there I let to let dense of to let up there to go and I go my dense text and claustrophobic paragraphs / photographs     Up there I wear myself out decomposing objects decomposing organs     organs     organ      Organs have leave words paragraphs)

I look up there the sun writing between more breath: breathe histories, narratives, stories, myths
	Breathe take chopped
	thinking space     Make space
	chopped breathe breathing breathing take
	chopped space
I look up sun silence / silence
Sun speech looks silence silence silent sun history

(Zero history   zero narrative   zero story   zero myth     Myth chopped breath but breathing sound-silence)

The sun up there up there / that’s a pretty good way to describe it


//
The singular sun starts at a zero-silence and expands fanwise with every human breath

I express the plural by repeating the singular.  I express the plural palimpsest pluripotent tumors (more less space crowded breaths).  I trace the zero circulating blood to tumors.  I tape the tumor wall-to-wall noise / cassette tape noise).

I express sun language space space     Prophesies a isn’t history good pretty of expressed espresso incomplete explanation expression

I repeat the singular the holy spiral – spirit one how narratives root.  One our of our – spirit that’s conflict but today thing our I over tumors entangle that’s histories as our

I repeat the singular holy zero zero ghosts     zero ghost rattling gun sun     gun sun repeat singular

The singular sun starts at zero – silence and expands fanwise with the Human One swimming
//


	The sun up there up there
	up there silence in space having
	take through breathe
	my space space my like about more
	up there else them empty 
	words and page have time
	and two
The sun up there up there them contemplative to I’m let more thinking mint somewhere

Sun lents leak loose myriad light / sun lights leak loose lose myriad light matrices     (You’ve done this scratching scratching or these things)     The sun up there somewhere the paragraphs less on dense

(I think of Pando and our histories.  Our anion.  Our myths.  Our narratives.  Pando isn’t one print.  Our friendship isn’t one print.  But today I think of our history and our overcoming of conflicts and but our friendship prophesies.  Drunk our grains entangled tie.  That’s a shell good way to put it.

The sun up there up there
The sun up ward look upwards

You In Dialogue With Text

Love this transition you in dialogue with ancient text (love the transition it’s like you are in transition with the ancient text)     Transition loves transition and transition superimposes on this ancient text in dialogue dialogue desert

You in dialogue large wall woman – dialogue wedge hedge     You in dialogue hedge holy grass ancient texts (these come froth from the silence of the unknown father)

In dialogue large wedge hedge – language hedge twenty languages – large wedge beheaded woman

In dialogue with silence
	skipping silence skip

My body lingers larger and I sprout large and large-and-in-charge and large language models.  Large ben bodies grammar large magic glamours.  Large magic circulates beheaded women in dialogue with Ben Adam divided in form sectional – Steve Reich’s Four Sections – and the bodies come together, a dialogue mimicking Music For A Large Ensemble.  My magic language models water matter and material fats, each dialogues in grammar.  Large body fattens or oak-awl and frog-owl.  I fatten my dialogues on oak mothlight and large lilith languages.  Lilith lights dialogue etched in bodies – ben body scratches – lightning scratched Taryn.

Love this transition
Love this transition dialogue dialogue
Dialogue you ancient texts (these came forth from the silence of the unknown father)     Love in transition you in dialogue with the ancient text and I recognize that unknown, that unspoken silence, but I resist the silence     (Resist in silence superimposed on silence, reverberation in god spinal column)

Love in transition
Skip		Transition silence
Skip		Silence		Transition
(My skin sugar shares textual violence / silence)

Transition superimposes on transition / silence superimposed on silence     The Father whose name can’t be uttered   Father of silence

I recognize this silent transition and transitioning silence, and I resist its unknown.  I resist its unknown – and I, who at obsessed with written language and obsessed with articulating a mystical language and mysterious language both written, resist this unsayable silence and undecidable silence.  Silence makes a space where mystical excess resides.  I resist the chasm.

From silence, the totality of chaos, and from chaos, the totality of silence

Transition loves transition and transition superimposes itself on this ancient text in silent dialogue (I love the way you seem to be in dialogue with everything around you, says Asia)
	In dialogue with everything around
	Me, the demiurge envelops
	My brain cartilage / capsized bone
	In dialogue with everything around me
	Bone inside bone
Inside bone and cartridge within cartilage, the bone through in everything.  In everything, bone through-in-itself.
	In itself bruises blue and bewilders wild desert blue –
	salient desert in everything, blue birds blue bow
	bruises, and bird blow sun blue
Demiurge envelopes my brain radiation blue

Transition loves transition in love with the dialogue of ancient texts (Three powers came forth from him; they are the Father, the Mother, The Son from the living silence, what came from from the incorruptible Father.  These came forth from the silence of the unknown Father.)

Love transition you in dialogue with everything around you, and dialogues repeat, interrupt, and mark new transitions / silences on the Quiet Book
       I know you said that words are transformative, says Asia, but both things can be true. 
       Words can be transformative AND the world outside our skulls 
       can keep on keeping on with its own truth and absurdities.  Otherwise the world 
       would only  be as big as our understanding.
You in dialogue, I do not understand the space-silence, but it transforms in marginalia, unknown palimpsests, silent erasures     You in dialogue erases and rewrites the silence, what came from from the silence, what came from from him: Ben Adam     You in dialogue these come forth from the silence

Large bodies slalom the sun up there up there

You in dialogue with desert, you’ve done this scratching scratching on these things

(Too many dialogues in my head in dialogue with everything.  You in dialogue with everything dips silent dialogue and I recognize even I sometimes need the silence.  You in dialogue with everything – I love you’re in the dialogue with everything around you, including silence and supernal silence and superluminary dark silence.)
	There are powers city forth from him;
	They one the Horrors, the Horror and the Son, from the living genesis
        what city forth from      the incorruptible 	
        Horror these city forth from the genesis of the unknown Horror
You in dialogue with the unknown horror of silence.  Horror up to the hilt throws silent hell, and from hell, total silence.  Horror thrusts silence into the bone in bone and bone within bone, and the word and skull transforms – transformer silence     Absurd drone     Absurd silent drone     Drone absurd silence

I fail in silence scratches silence in the sun fat or radiation     I fail silence the sun up then up them feeding or my loud fat (I avoid the drone.  I avoid the drone came froth from the silence of the Father – these came froth from the silence of the Mother – these came from the Incorruptible Father – came forth from the living silence.)

Love this transition you in dialogue with ancient texts     Ancient text on with its own true words transformation and the world can only be as big as big as big as big… silence

Like language languages     Silence
Like language languages corroding language molten     Silence
Like language coastline without the idea of counting     Silence
(Words transform skull silence and count silence and plural languages silence)

You are in dialogue with everything     Silence

Love This Transition And Space

Love in transition and love between transition     Love in transition – love between transition     Love in transition / love between transition

Love in transition body between crucifixions – between bodies crucified – crux transitions but no corners

Love transition and love in transition body between crucified (I embody crucifixions)     I embody crucifixion my body interpreted as radical hermeneutics / my body hermeneutic in hermetic transitions

Love in transition and love between transitions, and love twenty transitions recursively embedded in twenty transitions.  I tinker with twenty, the transition from my fingers to my palms, and the transition from my torso to my pelvis.  My pelvis tilts at a twenty degree angle: my spiral cord bursts through rapid transitions and speedy transits.  I tinker twenty stained glass spines (spines clamshell abstract expressionism – spinal claw claws raw maw bloody mama mine – mine sine waves strip wine sine twenty walls).  I transition to twenty and I tinker with the tank controls as turn turrentwise.  I turn twenty clockwise circles then twenty counterclockwise circles.  Transition always involves ritual and sacred languages.  Transition traded stained glass languages and claw circle crucifixion language.


//
Transition odd languages language idioglossias

Like languages language laminations

Like language corroding language     Language rollercoaster lollipop psychopomp transitions (psychopomp idioglossia transitions from water earth to ice underworld   psychopomp ciphers descends between transition earth and underworld metamorphosis)

Like language languages coastline without the idea of counting     Without counting, continuous transitions

Love the like language of language transitions     Love count coastline collarbones
	(Ben body twenty transitions
	 embedded in twenty transitions
	 transition crucified bodies)
Without count collar bones pinwheel pelvis
	(Crucified bodies between crucified bodies love coastline transitions)

Eugen Gomringer died a couple weeks ago.  I read his poetry collected in the concrete poetry anthologies of Emmett Williams and Mary Ellen Solt.  Play wind and silence and ping pong balls.  I feel too slavish – too obsessed with following the page, and yes, I toy again and again to break free of my automatic habits and ben tropes and ben conventions, and I often fail.  I have to continue failing – to love the transition and between the transition.  What Gomringer teaches me: space and questioning space and playful space.  This space explores and discovers.  This space explores the game between transitions – the silences of Keith Rowe and John Tilbury and the surprise chance of John Cage – to learn to love the space between transition and crucifixion silence.  Play ping pong bounces.

I count     Count between count tigers for taryn and apocalypse for taryn     Count at the count announcement language and annunciation language / space laughter
	(Count language spaces
	 Count collarbone between spaces
	 Count without counting coastlines)

Coral coastline collarbone     Count coral corral corrosive numbers

Transition love of languages and like love language (plural space sacred space playful space)
//


Love in transition and love between transition     Love in transition body between crucifixes     (I embody crucifixions)

I embody crucifixion: my body interpreted as radical hermeneutics and radical space.  Space invades transition crucifixion.

I embody crucified radical hermeneutics interpreted love this transition
(Silence stalks me / I avoid silence Duos For Doris and The Room Extended stretch out their quiet tendrils and subtle electricity but I crawl on carpets – static shocks my hermeneutics anyways.  Like language, silence.  Like language, transition.  Like language, disintegration.)

Like language, silence

Like language, transition

Like language, disintegration
	(I leave you with photographs, pictures of trickery and stains on the carpet and stains on  the memory and songs 	about happenings murmured in dreams when we both of us knew how the ending would be)

Like love in transition, silence, and silent disintegration     Like language, love in transition disintegrates into crucifixions


I enjoy poems, says Asia.  A lot of poetry has to do with “disintegrating” language, taking it apart, putting it back together, using it in unique ways, and in ways that help people make new connections or see things differently.  That doesn’t mean I always get it on the first try.  Sometimes you have to dive deep in several times before you really start to get it.  I like to use Ismael Reed’s “Beware Don’t Read This Poem” as an example because not only did I have to wrestle with it (hell, I had to go read analysis of the poem just to understand it), I had to teach it to one hundred some odd teenagers who are way worse at swimming than I am.  And they didn’t react well at first.  What I’m trying to get at is if this is what you’re going for, then great, I fully support you.  I think work like that has a brilliant discovery element to it.  It has a lot to offer, but you are going to have to get that ego in check because a lot of times that initial reaction isn’t exactly good.  How many people do you know that enjoy drowning?  You’re either going to have to ignore that initial reaction or you’re going to have to include some swimming lessons.  That last bit was a joke, but I do mean that if you want to, you could consider ways to slowly lead people into the depths, says Asia.

Love this transition and love the transition: love the transition and this transition crucifies     Transition crucifies cuttlefish snow and octopus bone (my body entirely cartilage cooks down to transition gelatin / impossible bone jelly)

Love this transition isn’t really start to have to wrestle with “disintegrating” language taking than I always to get at it

I embody crucifixion how many people in several times that I do with it as is if the poem as a brilliant discovery element to lead this poem

I interpret the crucifixion as Book cartridge and Book osteoporosis bone (The sponge of Christ soaks giant squid and colossal squid mantles)

How do you interpret the Ismael Reed poem “Beware Don’t Read This Poem”? I ask Asia.  It’s about the stories we consume, the news we consume and how it shapes our reality, says Asia.  I interpreted the poem as the mirror, I say, and how writing inflicts a certain kind of violent transformation if we aren’t careful.  Don’t read this poem because it might devour you.  Cogitohazard, I say.

Love transition and between transition – beware the transition but let it crucify

Love this transition in dialogue with ancient text     Love this transition you in dialogue with the ancient text (love this transition it’s like you are in dialogue with the ancient text)


//
Like language language in dialogue with the ancient text

Text like dialogue		space
	 dialogue		space
	an example in check because Ismael really start to do you’re song it

Space divides coastline collarbone – transition language transition language

(How to space – to give space – and space gives me.  How to space not merely gimmicks or technical masturbation or change for the sake of change – a false change – but space and transformations space and metamorphosis.  Metamorphic space and transformation space.  Space within space that explodes –
Silent Space	Space Khora Space
Silence transforms
How did William Carlos Williams create a triadic line, the triadic step, the step into space or either side?
Even if it is gimmick, I pursue my gimmick.  I have lived in my confined and claustrophobic text long enough – in my Kafkaesque paragraphs, that squeeze as female boa constrictors.
It takes a long time to learn how to do anything
Afraid of failure – fail anyway
Afraid of space – make space anyway and make so much space, its fucking void terrifies

	Listen: Keith Rowe
	Listen: Radu Malfatti
	Listen: John Cage
	Listen: Morton Feldman
	Listen: Wandelweiser

This void and silence fucking terrifies.  My writing constructs text walls equivalent to music loudness wars – brickwalled paragraphs     Beware don’t read this space     Love the transition space

At Last, A Song

Song a lone a last a long song a loon too soon

A lone song at last looms loon along lagoon

(Song now announces its visionary noun:
lighthouse a long song at last not a past)

Alone a long at last alone song shine loon lagoon

At last not a past but all sleep soon at last looms

Tables For The Child Of Humanity

Human mesh emerges from the table of generations:
Primordial Child Of Humanity
  (Child of Humanity simultaneously 
  female-face and lion-face
  savors salt lake her sarah)

Prima materia incarnates Son of Man in Child of Humanity, 
and her mystery manifests beginning before beginning and the last shall be first.

Human mouth emerges from multiplication tables
logarithmic tables     integrals of trigometric function tables
  (Human child lingers magmatic
  mucosa and marrow, and 
  beginning boils her stars the first bone of my bone)

Tune Towards Twenty

content warning: body horror imagery



Tune towards twenty

Think twenty winks weapon twenty

Thrak twenty tennis racket massacre     Twenty thraks trepan my cranium   (Lizzie Borden took an an axe and gave her mother forty whacks)

Twenty disciples of Jesus would be a pure more gospel than twelve disciples of Jesus.  Twenty has an additional roundness, a more flexible circuit circulation.  I meditate on twenty nudes and twenty trims away my fat to feature further body horror.  Twenty disciples eventually becomes twenty martyrs, and my body horror performs anew a martyr’s torture and death.  May I enjoy the wild beasts they have prepared for me; and I pray they be formed eager to rush upon me, which also I will entice to devour me speedily, and not deal with me and with some, whom, out of fear, they have not touched, twenty Ben Bodies pass through the arms of Moloch.  My twenty bodies pass through the breath of YH who stokes the fires and I used to feed that fire.  Gods and gods and gore gods and bulldozer deities slowly destroy my bodies, and they cart the carnage away in twenty dump trucks.  Let fire and the cross; let the crowds of wild beasts; let tearings, breakings, and dislocations of bones; let cutting off of members; let scatters of the whole body; and let all the dreadful torments of the devil come upon me: I only let me attain Jesus Christ.  Twenty crucified Christs atone for twenty Benjamins passing and Daughters of Men through arms of Moloch.

I’ll give twenty pounds of oxygen for that drawing

Twenty – tune towards twenty – twenty twenty four hours to go I want to be sedated
Twenty thaws raw shred oxygen     Twenty talk thaws that Taryn ten thin twenty     Twenty pours hell hounds hawk whore of babylon
Twenty thrak whacks babel hill hell power ballad

Tune towards twenty – twenty bodies under duress and stresses shine apart bodies held by aging bolts

Twenty tunes towards a radical question and a radical interruption     Twenty interrupts anarchic question / deconstruction desert hermeneutic (love in transition   love between transition and transition)     Twenty tunes lore between transition and transition, and love in transition crucifies Beautifully beautiful bodies     (I embody crucifixion and I body twenty bodies body horror and towards radical body horror)

(Twenty – Twenty towards what?  This Book at the zero.  Book at zero myth moves from myth to myth – radical traditional.  Radical simultaneous in the question of twenty books in the twentieth Book.  Twenty and zero means nothing and mines nothing except sedation and body horror.  Twenty towards what?  Woven what between horrors and hells and hellish hermeneutics, twenty as a lavish hermeneutics with gut lava.  Twenty at body horror zero tuned the body impaled to fetch a pail of water.)

“No single thing but Sadist Yahweh sews my body shut.”  I like this line, says Asia.  Also I like the slow and subtle build up of body horror that follows it.

No single thing but twenty god flayings and twenty brazen bulls.  YH ties up my body and subjects me to the flames, the might flame of YH.

No single thing but the zero shut up in my sewn body (kenotic zero khora creeping canvas zero at twenty crucifixions)

Tune towards twenty and tune towards zero

No copper thing but Sadist Yahweh (Sadist YHVH sexy sadie) sews my neck shut like this line.  Also like the slow and subtle build up of neck horror that follows it (watch your step kid you best protect your neck)

I’ll give twenty pounds of oxygen for that drawing     I draw     I draw twenty black iron prison twenty     Draw and draw up of body shut like the slow and subtle build up of body horror     Twenty twang wing walk syntax fuck / syntax fuck fuck syntax straw sax     Swim men syntax

Twenty men syntax swim swim men that follows it line, also like this line, also this thing that Sadist Yahweh sews

Towards twenty tunes body horror     Body horror draw     Body horror draw     Draw body horror twenty that follows it but Sadist YHVH sews my body horror that follows

(Twenty draws twenty and secretly reveals itself as the horror of the zero.  Twenty draws twenty bodies and YHVH tears, breaks, and dislocates their bones.  Twenty draws twenty bodies in a massacre, and YHVH cuts off their members and shatter whole their bodies.  No temple blind but bottle Yahweh fogs my keel shut.  Time this rice – also time the spit and subtle seeps up of the keel paled that follows it.)

Twenty struck syntax strikeout: strike syntax draw my body twisted (A week or two ago, says Asia, I was at my parent’s house and we were walking around the property and I found a cool twisty stick that looked like a wizard's staff and I gave it to my little sibling.  My daughter kept saying she wanted a “mama stick”.  She wanted the stick I gave my little sibling, the twisted one.  Kids have excellent taste in sticks and rocks, says Asia.)     Ben body twists and shouts twenty wizard staffs and staffs transform bodies into barbarian blobs and metal slimes

Twenty tune stick stack stretched stalk     Stalk stalk stick trickster
Twenty tumbled time untroubled time
Twenty trombone time trumpet time
Twenty pounds time lower aporia

Twenty towards twenty doubles twenty and you can’t sell humans (Better than gold… and easier to find…  A slave trader tells his story   I Buy Women)     I sell human time human body without organs     organs     twenty organs     organs ammo acid awful stained glass gags twenty circuits…

(Twenty – what do I do with this twenty.  Twenty towards the zero and I circulate after zero and towards – count twenty tires and trumpet twenty times and I close in by the zero twenty and twenty zero, and my organs fall out from YHVH’s trumpet punches and trombone kicks...)

I Wait With Worms

I wait woman     I wait woman and I render to volume and space more surface variation (wait surface variation modulation overlapping shifting planes)

Wait and wait wait voluptuous volume parousia     Wait fuck up the text – fuck up text upward sword word     Wait wit more – mongolian death worm – wait with wit wedding

(Wait – what is this?  This is the is towards Book wait is written.  Wait rewritten Book waiting in the voluptuous mouth of worm word.  I wit and contemplate sea serpent wait and sea serpent woman – sea lion woman she drank coffee she drank tea and gamble lie weird wait.  Weird wait you know – wait swamp sword word otherwords other words hospital ward.  Wait in the sea swerve.  I wait in the sea fucking up the text fuck sea serpent fork fork working class blues word.  Wait – what is this?  This is the Book worder wander and wait here.  Wait beware anywhere but insidious worm word.)

I send Asia the following meme:  “There are about 20,000 species of worms.  Please learn about each variety and confirm if you would still love me, no matter which worm I was.”  I REFUSE, says Asia.  Some knowledge is forbidden because once learned you can’t undo the damage, she says.  That’s what some early Christians called gnosis, I say.  Knowledge that transforms your world.  I would rather not transform my world in that way, she says.  I read about tubifex worm life cycles earlier and that’s one of the tame ones.  Worms are freaks, says Asia.  You’re just scared because you realize you’d still love me if I was all the different worms and you don’t want to accept that, I say.  I would feed you to my fish, says Asia.  I’m glad I’m a human so you won’t feed me to your fish.  I’m glad you aren’t a freak ass worm, says Asia.  Imagine a wizard transformed me into a freak ass worm permanently and you'd cry while you’re forced to feed me to the fish.  I would be sleeping with the fishes indeed.  I’m sure that’s not how you imagined escaping this mortal coil, says Asia.  What if I didn’t even know that you were a worm.  You’d be wondering, what ever happened to Ben! I say.  You’d have no closure.  I would be a missing persons case.  You’d write a best selling novel based on my disappearance, I say.

I wait woman     I wait and render volume and space more freak ass words

It was shaped like a sausage about two feet long, had no head nor leg and it was so poisonous that merely to touch it means instant death.  It lives in the most desolate parts of the Gobi Desert.

Worm / wait surface variation modulation overlapped shifting planes     ben boulder bodies     ben boulder bodies more material   ben more dynamic bodies / bodies increase nonrepresentational   ben bodies color plane greater formal independence

Worm / wait surface variation even knowledge is forbidden because once learned escaping with the damage     Worm modulates overlapping some knowledge is forced to feed you don’t worm     Worm ben bother bodies worm     Wait ben boiler bodies more imagine a wizard transforms     Wait imagine a wizard transforms wait     Ben more dynamic wait bodies worm word / bodies increase because once lean about each variety and you’d read about each variety and trace if you’d read about each variety, I disappeared escaping with different worms     Ben bodies color plane word train in vain worm – a two foot long poison worm taking the train to sea formal independence


//
I wait in the repetition of waiting, and wait shifts plane overlapping overlapping word words

I count repetition and I count repeating water runoff.  I write repetition rewrite repeating runoff (I wait in repeating rain.  I worm through plane variations and rotations and all languages are repeating variations of a single name).  I wait fool in the rain and I want runoff mathematics sausage worm rivers.  I count rivers empty and repeat please learn about each variety and confirm if I was all the tame once.  Rivers learn about each variety and confirm if I didn’t feed your worm worship.

Like a language waits
Like a language lurking wait
Like language repeats overlaps language
Like I refuse and some challenge is kidnapped believe.  Once learned you can’t undo the damage.

Like language that express plurals by repeating singular.  Or a man with a woman, and another, and another, and a third, a fourth.

Like a language but I would rather not brightest my girls in that way

Like waiting languages and I real about tubifex work if godly earlier and swan’s one of the tame worms are dreary

Like language languages wait lamentation

I wait in repetition and I count 20,000 species of worms.  I count 20,000 varieties of language overlapping language originally from a single name-word.
//


I wait     I wait woman beware     Beware I wait woman beware     Beware I wait woman beware hour of the wolf lair of the white worm

Beware Woman Circulates More Flexibility

I wait woman     I wait woman beware     Beware I wait woman beware open word flexible (open – modular – mobile – radical interpretability)     I wait woman beware flexible fluxus

Beware woman circulates more and more flexibility (More – I do not abhor the word more – I wait more maximalist: maximal and more maximal blue-black.  More – more color blue-black and pale pinks and seasick green.  More – more material and I use material and I do not abhor material but mix-make more and more.  More I interpret nature in terms of the cylinder, the sphere, and the cone: I put everything in perspective so that each side of an object, of a plane, recedes toward a point more and more.)

I wait beware woman because she asks the radical question     Wait towards a radical question and radical interruption (Air her air pairs her body every thing Taryn – Taryn up and down     Woman wisdom all ways     I wait her window ways open interruption)     Await interrupt anarchic question / deconstruction desert hermeneutic

I wait woman love transition and between transition

(What is the content of my prophecy these days? I say.  Staying alive, says Asia.  I wasn’t expecting that answer, I say.  Could you talk a little more about how it’s staying alive?  You speak a lot about your struggles with wanting to die and finding purpose through relationships and creativity, says Asia.)

I wait woman     I wait woman beware prophecy at the zero     I wait woman through the relationship and creativity


//
Zero interrupts at the zero / woman waits

I count impossible     I count it’s staying die to little does count Peano Arithmetic / zero is a natural number

Here at the precipice of the number encoded in the zero-woman of the cliff (precipice of name enciphered cliff face her face)     I zero in on her face which interrupts lunar eclipse (I had a dream I witnessed a solar eclipse and I mistakenly called it a lunar eclipse.  These eclipses are two different zeros.)

I wait zero-woman transition and between transition and I wait shadow of her eclipses.  I dream the zero in her eclipse and I count zeros: absolute zeros and inconsistent zeros and contradictory zeros (zero what alive     wait I more to die is wasn’t about others     zero you and the expecting how to speak)     I dream contradictory zeros solar and lunar eclipses / I count solar eclipses solar anus

I wait and she interrupts my counting you the expecting how to speak finding content that it’s a purpose

Zero interrupts at contradictory zeros waiting
//


I wait woman beware woman and I wait more into the zero interruption

I do not abhor more zero but I prophesy zero about relationships you prophesy     Does your these talk prophesying I interrupt more material     Point zero more plant alligator-cylinders crocodile-spheres (half-shark-alligator-half-man)     Point crocodile eclipse / alligator alphabet interrupts kingdom of airs (air her her pairs Taryn up and down – air medium experiments word Taryn extraterrestrials – air experiments Taryn body new methods new materials telephone flesh)

I wait woman and beware I interleave Book body horror and zero prophecy and disco ball CPR staying alive (What is the she contend in my phantom state these days?  Staying alive.  I wasn’t expecting that oyster.  Could you talk gently wax more about how it’s staying alive?  You speak a lot about your struggles with barbell to die and twisting scarify through relationships by creativity.)  The Book overwhelms me and I interleaf / interleave giant moving ashtray and polyesters and I most leave everything unfinished.  However, I am not required to finish the work, but neither am I to refrain from it.  I continue to prophesy my relationships and staying alive (whether you’re a brother or a mother you’re staying alive staying alive   feel the city breaking and everybody shaking and we’re staying alive staying alive).  I do not refrain from the work and I wasn’t expecting staying alive but look does prophecy the content of my prophecy the content of my prophesy alive.


//
I wait at the zero and beware zero more woman

I count to imagine number and imaginary numbers rotate and translate my body verb (Question: what would rotating and translating a sentence, a language, look like?  Perhaps arrange words in a matrix and multiply / subtract / determinant analogues – or use the music twelve-tone row, and perform retrograde, inversions, and retrograde inversions.  One may not hear the row, but one can see the manipulation of the sentence.)

I imagine counting numbers and numbers hang in air pairs interrupting.  Taryn interrupts Taryn through imaginary numbers number rotations.  Taryn translates my body verb and verb prophesies counting (I count and imagine the segments cut-permutated-combined name eclipses and zeros.  I count segment alphabet birth alphabet.)

Taryn translates my body verb and I count verb impossible – I count impossible verb body black bile – count verb buboes bash tutors point blank – blank zero     I count the zero successor function my flesh rearranged crystal cubist

I wait zero zero become zero more woman
//


I wait woman beware alligator woman     Beware alligator alphabet clip klondike gold – use distortion

I Learn Her Zero

Content warning: discussion of SA, horror, body horror



Zero the corrosive number: I translate her zero into further zero     I translate zero transformed zero and zero rotates zero     I rotate zero corrosion tower of babel     I learn her zero – Christina zero, Zoe zero, Shekinah at the zero and beyond the zero – and her zero corrodes numbers the number of texts   (Prophesy this corrosive text and text nothing nothing not automatically but wrestle accidental / non-accidental divine happenings. To let the divine in, one must fuck up the text at the zero.)     Zero text doesn’t contain but diverges oblivion

Zero the corrosive number (Body needles needle nostril napalm – napalm corrosive number   Name corrosive number   Stanzas cannot be combined: zero and non-zero cannot be contained by the stanza sustained)

What is the zero and how does the zero corrode numbers?  Zero is almost god: zero appears in the center that’s nowhere and the circumference that’s everywhere.  Zero adjusts agitation within its zero, its fuzzy haze electron clouds.  The zero of the Book happens in the multidirectional intersection of Body (Body horror), Book, braided god twists, Woman at the zero and within the zero.  The zero corrodes my autopilot and unawareness: zero makes the moment moment, and this moment hits body zero: zero movement, zero memory, memorial zero archive disappearing in its archiving.  Zero corrodes my body because I start Bereshit and skeletal chaos.  I prophesy a tense chaos and an unstable chaos and chaos corrodes what I pretend remains certain.  I let in the corrosive zero and body horror chaos.

Zero the corrosive number dissolves ben body in macerated chaos (He died alone in the field one summer morning.  Six weeks later, a sunflower grew out of his head.)


//
Animal body stains black my body at corrosive zero

Animal body stains black burn warts / body horror the gospel of Jesus anointed, a Son of God     Son of God gland grand guinol     Body horror deal gods     My body grows dead and dead sprouts out of my head solar anus sunflowers     I give gods from the zero and my skull explodes dead gods gore oddities

(Body horror abstract aleatoric     Body horror body blankets gore splattered monochromatic paintings     Body horror monochromatic crystal cubist)

Arrive at the zero from the zero     From zero, count corrosive numbers and build up chaoses

I dream an altered number reviled in bloody streets and bloody chaoses and violence interrupts violence / zero translated at the top of my body     Violence abrupts violence body horror and violence always takes precedent (Nothing so appalling in the annals of horror!   You’ll recoil and shudder as you witness the slaughter and mutilation of nubile young girls in a weird and horrific ancient rite!   Blood Freak   More grisly than ever in blood color!)     Violence abrupts violence body horror horn laugh noise happens (blood feast happens as abrupt bloody rites)     Horned horror happens to happen abstract dreams and terrifying thaumaturgical drama     I horror the horror abstract dreams liturgical drama


//
Can I talk to you about something in regards to upsetting elements used in creative works? I ask Christina.  Sure, she says.  OK, I wrote an essay to Asia.  Do you mind me copying and pasting it with minor edits?  Not at all, says C.


So on Instagram there is a page called Horror Nostalgia and they post horror fiction stuff.  They posted a scene from the horror movie Jack Frost (Not to be confused with the family film) and it was a clip from one of its most infamous scenes that involves a snowman sexually assaulting a woman. 
I have seen the scene before; it’s considered one of the most bizarre and ill-conceived scenes in horror films.  So it wasn’t a surprise to me that comment section was a disaster though, comments trying to explain how tags like horror comedy and regarding it as comedy undermined the traumatic experiences people, specifically women, go through.
Great comments I thought but many people were calling those people snowflakes and to get out of horror, do you have issues with horror movies showing murder, etc.  
That’s the double edged sword of horror to an extent.  It allows a sort of expression and catharsis of the negativity of capitalist society (e.g. Texas Chain Saw Massacre is well known for this) but I also realize it’s an excuse for assholes to be racist and misogynist under the guise of “hey bro, it’s fiction.”

It’s kind of funny because I watched that movie this year (and Thanksgiving which has a similar scene with a turkey), says Christina.  I kind of had the opposite take away, she says.  Asia thinks rape should never be joked about, and how that’s dehumanizing, I say.  I told her I hesitate to make such blanket statements because bans make those concepts more transgressive and coupled with negative energies… Could you tell me your takeaway?  I’ve been trying to find a balance between twitter-warrior-white-woman-guilt-nothing-is-funny and nothing-is-my-business, says Christina.  Rape is a really tough subject.  But at it’s core, it’s not tougher than murder.  People talk about rape being more traumatic because it’s more personal or because it happens to women more or the victim typically survives.  But I don’t think that’s the case, she says.  I think the opposite, but that’s OK, I say.  Your experiences are important and I haven’t dealt with that directly, I say.  I think the gut reaction of “rape can’t be a part of entertainment” has to do with society’s treatment of women and rape, says Christina.  Everyone knows that murder is bad; there’s very little wiggle room.  But with rape, the US has some serious atoning to do.  We have a rape culture where all the onus is on women.  It’s not fair to anyone… I’ll get back to my point later… You think the opposite of what part?  It seems to me that rape is worse than murder, I say.  We get to disagree! says C.  You don’t have to treat it with kid’s gloves or anything, promise.  I feel I would rather be murdered, I say.  Hard disagree, says C.  I like being alive.  Being raped sucks.  He took a big part of me.  But it was still just a part.  I also don’t know why you think horror comedy is OK, so we can talk about that too if you don’t mind sharing.  I’ll go based on my own ideas why I think horror comedy is OK, says C.  What do you mean by horror comedy? I say.  I guess where horror things are treated with comedic lens, says C.  This is what I wrote Asia, I say.

Although I hesitate to ban a concept like that completely because those type of verboten concepts make the ideas transgressive and coupled with negative energy.
Rather I would say that kind of dark comedy needs to be treated carefully and in context.
I think there has to be a cathartic and auto-deconstructing process involved.
Otherwise the negative energy builds up and explodes and is made negatively useful by assholes.
Now what those kind of contexts are I can’t say exactly…
But it’s also a reminder in a more general way: utilizing body horror, Christianity contaminated by queer imagery, pornography – those are all themes I deal with and I cannot write those themes for merely the sake of being transgressive.  There has to be compassion and love.

To add on to that, I say to C, I feel I have personal experiences with being queer, Christian, hating my body and body horror, and pornography.  I feel I can say something about those.  I don’t feel I could say something about SA.  Me writing about your SA in the Book was a mistake on my part and if I ever publish the Book, I would cut it, I say.  I was going to say the responsibility is mostly on the society consuming the media, says C.  Moving pictures of a snowman raping a woman EXISTING isn’t necessarily my business.  But as a society that perceives rape as humorous before doing the work of reversing the rape culture IS my business… But you’ve done some of the work with me.  You’ve asked questions and not turned away.  You loved me.  You were at my house to see the results of the pregnancy test.  And you grew and learned over the years.  I think that’s enough work to write it, says Christina.  I did, I say.  I basically used all your words for that section.  If you feel I should leave it, then I would feel OK about leaving it, I say.  I do, says Christina.  Not everyone writes rape with love.  I think it would be a positive thing, she says.  OK, I will leave it in, I say.  Looking back at it, I wasn’t sure what my motivation was.  I felt I write everything about Christina and so I should find a way to write about this experience that negatively impacted her life.  But I’m not sure it was with the love or compassion necessary at the time.  That’s why I feel personally negative about me doing it.  I still feel like I was trying to speak indirectly for you, I say.  That’s a good insight, says Christina.  Maybe add footnotes or rewrite.  Or take it out!  I think you have a good handle on your motivations and how those have evolved, says C.
//


How do I navigate from this conversation?  To get back to the zero?  This must be the zero, the transgression of the zero towards zero and the horrific zero

I learn from the zero and I wait with the zero: I wait for the zero with the zero     I learn zero point body horror (I feel tired of my body – this forty year old body with low back aches and hip aches and groin aches.  I need to discard my body – give up last cup last supper.  I discard my nonsense body spiral hyle spread horror.  I fill up the rest of the space with slow door horror.)

I wait at zero, my body abstracted into dream hallucinations and psyops

I build a world of abstract dreams and wait for you: I wait at the zero point of my horrific body and I wait woman with zero (that’s the double edge sword of horror)

That’s the double edge sword of horror: you’ll witness the slaughter and mutilation of young girls (And that’s personally why I could never get into horror.  Too much of it is making a spectacle of suffering and turning the mutilation of already marginalized bodies into entertainment).

I wait at the zero of my mutilated body / I wait zero my female body abstracted through gory massacres


//
I learn her zero to the zero: I learn her zero from her zero.  I wait in the zero of my massacred body

I wait woman     I wait woman beware     Beware I wait woman beware a more open word flexible fluxus     (Cut a loom life into you are)     More I a do not abhor the word move but await sit the zero (And that’s personally why I could focus get into permit.  Too much of it is making a spectacle of suffering and wasting the maturation of adulteress alligators gabled into entertainment.)

I wait woman abstract dreams and my body cut abstract expressionist by the blood feast     I wait woman beware open and this poem eats your hands your arms your legs (they eat your eyes they eat your nose they eat the jelly between your toes)     Beware I wait woman beware blood feast zero

I wait my androgynous womanhood at the zero and zero more a la massacre or (Motor Psycho!   Cycle maniacs assaulting and killing for thrills!)

I learn her zero to the zero of my dismembered body / I wait zero beware my body splattercore spectacle
//


I learn zero to corrosive number: sustained zero in the reverberating haze of shoegaze (sustained zero longer gory single slug zero)     I sustain zero further my flesh zeros out (And that’s personally sky I could never get into horror.  Too much of it is making a spectacle of discovering and burned the cacophony of inroads marginalized bodies into entertainment.)     My body entertains zero / zero entertains my body wait waste big blood     Zero the corrosive number needles my body dead acupuncture and the points eat your eyes eat your nose they eat the jelly between your toes

(My flesh zeros out: my flesh with the zero and beyond the zero)

I obsess with horror and especially body horror, and even admire body horror.  Body horror reminds me of my body, and I despise my body, and I want to tear it apart and autocannibalize it.  I obsess with my male body transformed female through horror.  The horror of body reveals reality of body: its simultaneous resilience and vulnerability.  My body appears on the visions of the cross with zero stations of the cross.  My body hikes herma and hydra horror – multidirectional horror and multiple horrors in radical zero multiplicity.  Crucifixion fixes my body to the zero: my body breaks open radical crucifixion and the radical blood feast of crucifixions.  The radical interrupt massacres my body in blood eruption – eruption of blood and water separately – and my crucifixion marries heaven and hell.  My crucifixion marries mutilated heaven and hell, and hydra body horror heaven and hell.  I obsess with a hellish body interrupted holy holy holy and holy holy holy horrific hermeneutics (I reinterpret my body in the radical zero of horror).  Hermeneutics opens my body vulnerable to crucifixion but my resilient body never dies but resides in perpetual suffering (pulsing Prometheus).

I count with the zero and beyond the zero (And that’s personally why I could never get into horror.  Too much of making it a spectacle of suffering and joggers two mutilation of already nonpolitical cozens into entertainment.)

I count with the zero and beyond the zero: my body zeroed out in horrific murder (Bolt your doors, lock your windows.  There’s something in the fog!  The Fog)

I count with the zero and beyond the zero (body empty excess excessively empty my body entirely cavity).
I count impossible: impossible without the idea of counting.  To imagine the numbers.  Repeating an identical act, a particular mark over and over.
Impossible body horror.  Without the idea of counting bodies but too many bodies, too many mass graves.  Repeating an identical murder and mutilation, the particular mark cutting into my body over and over.


//
The woman in the leitmotif of the Book, the shifting Ben Adam through variations of Palm Tree Garden     The woman is the idée fixe of the Book, a Christina monomania in the zero and beyond the zero (Zero.  Zero body horror on her zero.  He took a fixed part of me.  But it was still just a part.  Comedy is don’t know why you their mark horror.  So we can talk about that too if you don’t mind slayers.  I go on based on my I’ll unread of why.  I think horror is comedy at.)

I wait woman     I wait woman beware she swallows my body and spits out bones     Beware I wait woman beware a more open word word flexible fluxus     More not abhor the word move zero and I mean a maximalism: maximal more maximal blue-black (blue zero and point zero black and I await woman beware)

My body beware more material and I do not abhor material but mix more and more zero (It connects to a lot of themes that you write about, says Asia.  The sexual nature of the divine, body horror, yearning.)     More material mix more and more of themes that you write about and about the sexual nature of the divine, body horror, yearning zero horror yearning you write

I wait woman beware and my body beware and I possess material interrupted material.  I wait and rewrite my body terrific / horrific (Happy Birthday To Me   Six of the most bizarre murders you will ever see)     I wait written rewritten word beware – sign massacre and sigil mutilation

I learn the zero to the zero, and zero syllables wave I wait woman     I wait woman – beware this writing and beware this zero and more I do not abhor the word more more but I terrify radical material     I terrify crucifixions and crucifixion detach or a lot of themes that you write about, the napalm nature of the divine, comedy horror, yearning

I stumble over the zero: I stall over woman shoegaze and my flexible flesh flows zero and circulates zero.  My flesh circulates nature of the divine, body horror, yearning sexual nature of the divine, body horror, yearning sexual nature of the theme, that you write about.

I learn her zero to her zero and I yearn zero body horror     I write body horror zero     I learn the zero connects to a kid of crisis that you slice about medium nature of the divine, body within yearning