I Do Not Drown The Book, Part 2

I do not drown the Book but I water the language I do not drown the Book but I water the music wheel drone

I do not drown bit stone stone tone robe tune type time / Do mute stone drown Book but boom naysayers batter masts basal baste bastards

I do not drown the Book boost body bite descend ends and and ached blue unu feed u we / Do not door the flagrant flagons fore for a starting point for language

Do not door the fragrant fragrant but drone water music and desert music (sand skull clash ocean cranium bash human head bronze sea). Do not door fragrant for flesh a starting point for language lambda. Ladders for day desert for door door doors hoc doors.

I water the language doors to water musics. The music is the whole question of life itself.

The music is the whole question of life itself / I want more of the sense of the expansion of time

//
Music sustains the Book and music drowns the Book big wave surfing waters. Music sustains the Book wide Book waters and warp Book waters and Book waters woman. Music sustains the Book and Book contains / retains music.

I don’t know where he’s going and I don’t know where I’m going, said John Coltrane on Eric Dolphy’s and his own playing. … Right now, I don’t know where I'm going and I don’t know where the Book’s going. I think it involves waters, human skulls, and music languages but the Book tends to surprise me. The music is the whole question of life itself, and music questions silence is the question. Silence is the question and I want more of a sense of the expansion of time. I stretch out the music more than Monk and I make myth as Sun Ra.

(I must create a system, or be enslaved by another man’s. I will not reason and compare: my business is to create. 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 Father and Mother and Houses and Lands if they stand in the way of Art.)

I am the music while the music lasts and I become the silence too. I stir the face of tehom with silence, and the water does not move but illuminates.
//

I water the music languages, and out of Book Chaos, the Oceanic Human One Book Chaos promises watery messianic and sea Son of Man Do not mute stone drown Book but sing boom butter masts transformed water bodies

A hurricane came to California and caused flooding in Southern California the other week, I say. It missed me though. We get hurricanes once a year so I’m prepared, says Asia. What would you do if you got washed away and had to live with the mermaids and gulper eels? I say. Party, says Asia. I would cry even though you’d be a cool mermaid, I say. Regrow your gills. I would drown sailors, says Asia. Become a menace. What song would you sing to entrance them? Mr. Brightside, says Asia.

I do not drown the Book but Book drowns me in the question of the drone (Music questions silence is the question – drone silence – hum silence – crackle static silence – silence silences – silence is the question) Silence is the question of silence and I want more of a sense of an expansion of time

Watery time and oceanic time Oceanic time messiah / messianic Mermaid regrow entrance southern I’m mermaids your they

Wanted time drowning languages: water California the glad what and gills The other world gulper I brightside (Always look on the bright side of life Always look at the bright side of death)

//
Music sustains the book and I listen to the Book beach seashells (When I was a boy I could hear symphonies in seashells so why am I so deaf at twenty-two?). Music sustains messianic time and condenses star time and I know the time apocalyptic. I free blow and sustain the long fermata over apocalypse. Apocalyptic time and messianic time overlap together; they expand the sense of time.

Music sustains the stained glass holy spirit sounds. Music sustains what song would do if you sing entrance a cool mermaid. Music sustains Book water music and Book ocean drop drone and I regrow my gills messianic time. I grow my gills what song would drown sailors.

What – this what and always what – what in beginning. What in beginning Book sustains chaos – mermaid chaos, menace chaos, gulper eel chaos. Begin – what what stretch Monk.

This what: post-bop what fiery index and ring fingers

Post-bop what drone index cards catalog metamorphic

Catalog haunted time polyphony (electron-capture heterophony)

I want more of a sense of expansion of time What expanded time time expanded imitation (I want more time and expanded time. I build bonfire with time-babel time time half time march. I want more of an expanse what song expands world drown sailors become a menace. What song would do if you got washed away and had to entrance though.)

I’m not sure of what I’m looking for except that it’ll be something that hasn’t been played before. I don’t know what it is. I know I’ll have that feeling when I get it.

I’m not sure what I’m looking for. What not what I look. I’m not sure but certain centigrade. I’m sure what I”m not sure what but I listen what whistle.

I don’t know what I’m looking for but we get hurricane (Are to entrance the mermaid. Look for regrow you sing to live with them. I’m not sure what would cry even though you got washed away and confused floorly to entrance them.) (Entrance power or permission to enter. The act of entering. The means or place of entering. Entrance. To put into a trance. To carry away with delight, wonder or rapture.)

I listen to the Book and I listen to the Book coastline slide mermaid doings
//

Do not door but flow fill sing fragrant a starting point for language lambda. Ladder for day desert for door door Book doors coastline doors.

So there are barrier islands here which protect us from storms, says Asia, but the currents between them can get pretty strong. My dad used to have a small motor boat that could hold roughly 5-6 people. One time we took it to Cumberland Island with my aunt and uncle who was visiting at the time – I was around ten at the time. Then we noticed a thunderstorm rolling in and we started getting ready to leave when we noticed that the boat was drifting away. The current was carrying the anchor. My mom and uncle had to swim after the boat. My uncle is a very fit person by the way, but they both struggled and nearly drowned. They did get the boat though after a few jellyfish stings. We made it home before the storm, says Asia.

I do not drown the Book boost body bite descend ends The Book bite descend when I noticed that the boat was drifting away and the current lungfish anchor my mom I do not drown but descend boat to boat pretending to be jellyfish (What do I look for – perhaps the intersection of jellyfish and boat anchor, and the anchor overlaps with current storms. What do I look for – extension and I look for a more expansive sense of time and sustained sense of time. The Book more in time – time suspension, pin-pen merger sustained nine sisters, unsorted and Book rubato – more time and all sorts of time and silences.)

I descend into Book waters and Book silences

I descend here are barrier islands here are barrier islands here are barrier islands here are

In The Thread Red Rabbit

In the thread red rabbit In the thread, red rabbit In the thread in the thread

In then In then thin this repetition, this red composition (Then and then, thinner thread thunder. Then then thunder, twin free improvisation.)

In the thread, red rabbit. Rabbits reveal everywhere and I draw the rabbit straight line and follow it. I follow the thread narrower beams and I tight-rope walk with rabbits. I walk with rabbits on the thread and I rarefy red from rabbits: rubedo body and in the threads, my body red. I read my body red in the thread and I tight-rope walk with twin rabbits. In the red, twin threads and I thread my body to through. In the thread, red rabbit. In the thread, red rabbit (rabbit reveals repetitions and repetition reveal the rabbit. I draw the rabbit line in line into. Rabbit drifts red. Rabbit drifts red drawing (rabbit reveals repetitions and repetitions reveal rabbit).

In the thread red rabbit In the thread, red rabbit In the read red rabbit thunder In the red thread rabbit taryn tape thunder Cassette tape thunder tinkers human skeleton skipping stone / I skip human bone as shadow stones wrote (I adore language sound and sounding languages. I listen for the language music and the melody grows rubato rabbits rabbits batarang. Rabbits bring a certain melodic quality to the language. I adore the music of the language / systemically derange the language. Systemically derange the language: write a work consisting only of prepositional phrases, or add a gerund to every line of an already existing work.) (The rabbit on time The rabbit with that beautiful woman The rabbit before going home) In the thread red rabbit In the red thread rabbit taryn records volcanic activity I record rabbit thunder theater and theater tape pivots from human bone to hale bone I skip whale bone shadow wilderness

I tinker with the sounds, the sounding language of the word but I should destroy the language (systemically deranging the language). I tinker with with word with with rabbits, the rabbit on time. I tinker the rabbits on time but there rabbit with that beautiful woman destroys. The rabbit destroys the language more with the Book weld. I respect the Book too much and its form and processes ossify me. I draw a straight line and I follow the rabbit.

Would you consider me a master of my craft? I say. The craft of writing? says Asia. I think you could be more well-rounded. You do change up your style and techniques but you still only really write a very particular kind of style, says Asia. What can I do to become more well-rounded? I say. Write other forms of writing, says Asia. Write narratives, essays, poems. That all has to be in one Book? I say. No, she says. It’s not that I don’t think the Book contains those things but there is something to be said about creating those things to be a work to themselves instead of a work that contributes to the Book. You aren’t writing them as isolated pieces and while I think you have a pretty good grasp on poetry, I’ve never seen you write a complete narrative story. The reason I say that is because there is a certain intentionality that comes with making something that has an end. I see, I say. You don’t think the blog posts are ends in themselves? They can be but they aren’t, says Asia. And the narrative element you add are not a complete story either. I think the nature of the Book can cause you to go in lots of different directions without ever finishing one thing all the way through. Plenty of people like what you do but I think you won’t really know the limits of what you are capable of unless you branch out a bit. Just get out of your comfort zone. Challenge yourself, says Asia.

In the thread red rabbit In the thread, red rabbit (I draw a straight line and I follow the rabbit. I read about the Miles Davis Quintet and their live recording The Complete Live At The Plugged Nickel 1965, a 7 hour plus collection recorded on December 22nd and 23rd 1965. Herbie Hancock stated: “We’d gotten so cohesive as a band that it became easy to play together. We had figured out a formula for making it work, but of course playing a formula was exactly the opposite of what we wanted to do. We needed to put the challenge back, to figure out ways to take more risks…” Tony Williams proposed making “anti-music”. “Whatever someone expects you to play, that’s the last thing you play.” The group agreed but didn’t tell Miles Davis. Herbie Hancock said: “Some people have suggested that Tony was trying to sabotage the band by doing this, but he was only really trying to sabotage our comfort level, to break us open again. It was just another step in trying to push our boundaries as musicians and as a band.” I retell this story about the Plugged Nickel 1965 because I create and write at a similar junction: I write the Book with proficiency and I know how to make the Book work. The Book has become a formula, albeit a formula that works and a formula I can still stretch and expand, but even the subtle shifts and gradual evolution of the Book's current forms is not enough to stave off the feeling of comfort and even stagnation. First, I follow Asia’s advice: challenge myself, get out of my comfort zone, and write forms that don’t belong to the Book. I plan on working in traditional poetry forms: villanelles, sestinas, sonnets, as well as light verse. I also plan to work on writing short stories: microfiction at first and slowly building up to longer and longer self-contained narratives. I also plan to write essays. I will experiment in these forms and prophesy a vision necessary and unavoidable in my creative spirit, but like Albert Ayler, I work on improvising free by putting more form in the free form. As for the Book, I take an example from The Complete Live At The Plugged Nickel 1965: Herbie Hancock states, “From the moment Miles counted off the first song, I started focusing on how I would play against expectation. Whenever a song would build up, getting to that natural peak, the natural inclination would be to push it over the top – but instead I would suddenly bring it down to one quiet note. Tony did the same, building up his playing in volume and intensity, but then, instead of hitting the bass drum, he’d gently tap the cymbal. He did the opposite, too, suddenly ratcheting up intensity just as a tune was winding down.” I go against my instincts and betray my own expectations. I become a Judas Iscariot to the Book. I favor heavy assonance and alliteration and euphony: I now explore dissonance and clashes and cacophony. Utilize wider varieties of sounds, contrasts, shadows, chiaroscuro – accumulate and add to my repertoire of techniques. Then go onto the next thing to betray and sabotage my comfort and break me open again. I go forth to experiment and make big messes and spectacular failures.

I write IN THE THIRD RED RABBIT; my initial creative instincts involve repetition and alliteration to expand and rearrange it. Instead, I try dissonance and sharp contrasting accents: in the thread red rabbit attack but warble thread

Miles Davis said: Don’t play the first thing you hear. Wait and play the next thing.

In the thread red rabbit, play the next thing In thread the black barbs snap barbarian I skip human stone curlicue perpetrators Rabbits prod carbuncle habits hit barnacles: thread to thread barnacle manual labor Red barnacles boast a light in the attic hoedown

Diamond Dogs Deliver The Dead With Jazz

Diamond dogs deliver denim doorway: wave way her demiurge     Demiurge urgent as the desert dream city destroyer deconstructed syntax     Dog draws drawl syntax syntax doublets     Diamond dog divorces dogma and demiurge disappears but I drive still urgent desert      Diamond dogs syntax trace deconstruct syntax dizzy up the girl     Diamond dogs dizzy up the girl decry demiurge earthworks     I work the earth firedogs slow flame syntax     Earthworks wallop word demiurge doorway winged whalebone     Earthworks wyrd woman walking bass earthworks / water dog diamond dogs     Diamond dogs din digs Francis Bacon a performing dog

Diamond dog degas drags benjamin ballerina desert ballrooms

Their dogs drop dodgeballs: their dogs drop large iron spheres from skyscrapers

I dislike dogs – no, I like dogs, but I could never befriend a dog     I cannot walk the dog as a yo-yo trick and I cannot walk the dog as a dachshund or german shepherd     I do not telephone dogs and the dial drops dead     I steal the phrase diamond dog from the David Bowie album (conceived during a period of uncertainty over where his career was headed, Diamond Dogs is the result of multiple projects Bowie envisioned at the time: a scrapped musical based on Ziggy Stardust (1972); an adaptation of George Orwell’s novel Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949); and an urban apocalyptic scenario based on the writings of William S. Burroughs)     I adore David Bowie and his willingness to shift and experiment     I do not feel uncertainty in my future creativity but I do feel a drive towards rhizome and multiplicities: I realize the rhizome in John Coltrane’s dictum of both direction at once and in the Oblique Strategies suggestion of when faced with a choice do both     I write rhizome multidirection     I write multidirection expansive time drums Rashied Ali multidirectional     I motion and gesture motion painting multidirectional diamond dogs with no distance     I explore no distance dog star rhythm rubato rhizome multidirectional

I do not telephone dogs and the dial drones dead     Rotate rotary phone rancid robbery / Pink Floyd’s Dogs as the dial tone     Dogs drift digital darkness at the edge of town     Their dogs drive snow idiosyncratic iditarod / my idiopathic dog brain blushes blast processing

Brain blast processes arkanoid blast processing     Brain cedar beam balance bark film     One recurring theme of the film: many objects seen vibrate such as forks and bells     Brain bells blast processing arkanoid blast processing vibrates     Brain blast vibrates processing summa incisors /brain bites brain fine dog scissor cuts     Fine dog forks vibrate David Gilmour vibrato

One recurring theme of the film many objects seen vibrating such as forks and bells     This film blends yakuza stories with ghost stories, bizarre vignettes, and urban legends

My brain bells ghost dogs and black dogs vibrations in black forests     I find forks stabbed into oak / a witch’s silhouette in chalk

I burned bodies that I buried in the backyard

Black dogs appear as superimposed ghosts on the film film bizarre vignettes

In the backwards, I listen to Rumble by Link Wray and His Ray Men     It has a rough sound and sounds like a street fight     Black dogs devour my body     Ghost dogs devour my body bizarre vignettes

I visit more phrases from Jean-Michel Basquiat’s notebook / semantic field: Milling in crowd     Today he admitted to being foolish     Ran into the train beat out the flames     They fallen asleep and were inhaling the smoke     Slight crack in the gas line

A tedious aspect of my method of writing: every line and even every word I want to explore and rewrite and reinterpret through every possible permutation and combination     In this way, my method has similarities to John Coltrane’s method of improvisation, and Coltrane details this in the April 12, 1962 article in Downbeat titled “John Coltrane and Eric Dolphy Answer the Jazz Critics”:  “They're long because all the soloists try to explore all the avenues that the tune offers.  They try to use all their resources in their solos.  Everybody has quite a bit to work on…”

I try to explore all the avenues the tune (text) offers     Sometimes the text overwhelms me and I can only offer tedious variations or repetitions that stall and stagnate rather than express and surprise rhizome breakers     For the time being, I put working with these Jean-Michel Basquiat phrases on hold, and record them in another notebook to revisit them later

Miles Davis used to tell his musicians, when you play the music, don’t play the idea that’s there, play the next idea.  Wait.  Wait another beat, maybe two, and maybe you’ll have something that’s more fresh.  Don’t just play from the top of your head, but listen and try to play a little deeper…

When I write diamond dogs, I try not to resort to my well-used word-images such as desert or my well-trodden verbs of dig and dream unless done in a manner that surprises me or reveals a deep connection that disturbs me     Sometimes I get stuck and rely on cliches and past vocabulary but I hope I can combine my cliches into something like the way Charlie Parker fit and refit his motifs into new contexts     I desire to invent anew but sometimes my long-exhausted languages wont’ stay dead (They won’t stay dead!  NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD   They keep coming back in a blood-thirsty lust for human flesh!  Pits the dead against the living for a struggle for survival!)

Don’t play what’s there, play what’s not there (diamond dogs devour my body)     Don't listen to what’s there, listen to what’s not there (diamond dogs divide my body prayer parcels for demiurges)

Write real ghost dogs / ghosts there and not there but waits words

Ghost lights illuminate black dogs and abandoned boom towns     Ghost light calcium night light lines black dog mothlight     Ghost light assorted diatoms drum distant dogs (Assorted diatoms as seen through a microscope.  These specimens were living between crystals of annual sea ice in McMurdo Sound, Antarctica.  The image digitized from original 35mm ektachrome slide.  These phyloplankton are encased within a silicate cell wall)

I play rhizome ghosts and ghost rhizome     I play root of an unfocus / fixed point tossed as if it is untroubled     I play ghost dog spontaneous earth (I sometimes forget in the exploration and experiment, the element of PLAY) (What are your experiences reading my Book? I ask Asia.  How do you engage with it and how do you feel afterwards?  I like how your work experiments with language and associations, says Asia.  Reading your work is like walking into an antique store – I don’t know what I’m going to find or stumble on, says Asia)

I write the Bacchanale quickly and with the excitement continual discovery provided (three or four days to invent a new instrument) (three or four pages to invent a new language) (I inverse dogs god language ben adam invention / inverse ben inverted dome dogs) (so much repetition) (so much repetition but I invent     I rid myself of the first 10,000 drawings     I write John Cage Ten Thousand Things)

I try to write diamond dogs sound ghosts and ghost drawings copper mine

I manipulate similar musical time into time multiplied by ghosts     I machine an arbitrary ghost time tremor amber ambient and I fill the orange glow ambient with sound and movement     I fill each page with a different kind of sound and continuity

I continue between dog sound and ghost sound sensual son of man     I mime time trail tail haunted: minimal monochrome, deliberately shifting lines of color, moto perpetuo complex rhythms created by the interplay of timbres (Timbre Taryn troubles time tossed trickster timber timbres)

I teeter twisted timbers Taryn Trickster / twirling optic rotor reliefs     I float flat expanses of music matching plotless and actionless cinema     I simmer cinema vibrating forks and bells and I die from the emptiness of cautious and clever people     Often I trick the language too clever and it lacks creative play     Play furious fluxus and a text score scraped trickster palimpsest / illuminated manuscript

Diamond dogs twist door doe timbre and multiplied ghosts modulate antler sentence hangar

I start with sentence   sentence fragment   incomplete sentence ore or ore     start sentence stranger: sentence stay starcade world wrestling championship   starcade Nick Arcade arcades project people Das Passagenwerk   earthwork my monumental rain     My monumental rain ruin rain circular ruins and I rain theater starcade     Starcade theater struggles Cosmia pyralina pirouette pyralina passagenwork wall walk woman walking bass     I play walking bass line little linen loops and my sentences press play cassette tape Taryn Trickster

I read this sentence and the next sentence diamond dogs das passagenwork     Ghost dog dirk das passagenwerk lunar-spotted pinion (forewing dull or bight red brown or pinker ground; generally darkened with olive fuscous; first line blackish, oblique, not white-edged, angled outwards between and inwards on the veins…)

Diamond dogs dust diamond wings wig butterfly powder and word hourglasses

I love words that function as adverbs and prepositions     A long term project involved studying all these words that make up this category and using them in a new and confidently inventive manner

I plan to incorporate more insects and more insect facts and descriptions into the Book because Asia loves insects: the difficult part involves making facts and descriptions into an inventive improvisational language and a novel language that renames gods into darkling beetles and diamond dogs

Bright red brown or a pinker ground jumps outward dark dog word ghosts (a red brown diamond dog     a pinker ground diamond dog)

Bright red brown dog ben body blast processes on a pinker ground (a pinker ground diamond dog bulldoze outward diamond dog sentence)

Bright red brown rhizome jets red baron ben hinnom tao hum (dogs hum ghosts wire tonality diamond)

Stars appear as diamond dogs and gestural paintbrush strokes

Sentence stone structureless star stratas stars strange dogs   Sentence stone stars stalactites my flesh magma and meteor (my magma blackish angles outwards between and inwards)     Sentences sandsnow signs dog gospel     Sentences stink flesh funk dark diamond dogs / ben body decays and dances Michael Jackson’s Thriller     Sentence salts stars staggered sentences / out line preceded by darker shade serpents     Serpent sentence edged with white   white light bright brown red

Sentences appear as diamond dogs and gestural paintbrush strokes a pinker ground 

Sentence salts cobalt bomb ben body     Sentence salts spirals staircase cast bone bone spirals into my diamond forehead      (Sentences speak in spirals and diamond dog dialectics     Dialectics edge dog white, the white diffused on costa and joined to the whiter streak before the submarginal line     line spirals pinker sentences)

Sentences spiral last supper calcium strange light / ben body stretched owl light between dog stars

Relaxing At The Camarillo

Relaxing at the Camarillo 1946     Dial records sax solo     1032 –  A BIRD OF PARADISE CHARLIE PARKER

I realized by using the high notes of the chords as a melodic line, and by the right harmonic progression, I could play what I heard inside me.  That's when I was born.

I mouth melody marrow longer lunar line     I mesh melody monophonic mist mythologies: mire myth nonlinear line longer myth     I mouth relaxing and the camarillo bow cross melody microphone morpheme     I morpheme pharmaceutical myth entheogen lepton generations generations / I generate groundless loss gods tenor saxophone

I also dream nonlinear melody     I dream melody carbon monoxide charge Christina stations of the cross checkers     I dream melody cageless witches’ coven Christ the carpenter     Christ carpenters cageless careless whisper guilty feet got no rhythm     Dream calcium light light look hook aporia     Aporia paw points my brain punctured (two turntables, an audio mixer, and an amplifier)

I search for a new melody and a longer line     I feel my approach to the line – this arrangement of fragments in constellations – has become too rigid and inflexible     I search for a new line: a more beautiful line and a more melodic line

Around this time, I was trying for a sweeping sound, says John Coltrane.  I started  experimenting because I was striving for more individual development […] I haven’t completely abandoned this approach, but it wasn’t broad enough.  I’m trying to play these progressions in a more flexible manner now.

I search for a new sheets of sound     I search for a new long line sheets of sound sound nonlinear solar anus

Search loner sound sheets of sound sounds search body and soul     Search longer sound melody solo tenor saxophone improvisations / improvisations languages longer body and soul     I search sheets of sound soultrane traces serpents taryns

My melodic meander     My melodies meaner manic mural motion sickness and the melodic line sprawls actions action paintings the long melodic line and the language music long melody     Like John Coltrane, I do not abandon my approaches but I try to broaden my approach and create and improvise with great flexibility and openness

Relaxing at the Camarillo 1946     Dial Record sax solo     1032-A BIRD OF PARADISE CHARLIE PARKER

I relax the refrain and I repeat the melody railway rhizome     I relax the rhizome rain refrain marginal emendation run amok     Amok abyss I sit bright bay blood     My body emerges immerse melody margins marguerite     I relax the refrain and repeat my mistakes     I repeat the Book revised river copies copy water women look between     I mend melody long line garments and I have to put notes in uneven groups like fives and sevens in order to get them all in

I diminish the letter size paper sizing diminished sevenths     I sing sevenths seventh inversion sober sabbaths / symmetrical edits     I rewrite luna and lunar lush light human hazards and the road hazards stop-and-go go go dancers

I rewrite luna and lunar constant structures / free and shifting tonal center

I hope I prophesy you and our friendship well, I say.  In the past you have said that, that I prophesy you and us appropriately and you haven’t had any indication you changed your mind on that.  Yeah, I think I can still say that I still agree with that, says Asia.  This week has been hard for me, I say.  But I think overall I’m healthier mentally than I’ve ever been.  My friendships are the strongest they’ve ever been.  Yeah, says Asia.  Like you still spiral but even in the spiral you don’t go to old toxic behaviors.  Shit, just a year ago you were doing things like purposely violating boundaries to make me want to leave, says Asia.  That’s true, I say.  It’s kind of painful even to edit conversations from 5 months ago.  Although there’s a lot of improvement from then too.  Thank you for letting me grow, I say.  And I meant what I said, says Asia.  There have been at least two examples recently that you told me about that mid-spiral you corrected yourself.  Like when you said regretted sending the text about me sending you a reassuring message on a blackout day, or you driving home from work telling yourself that you wrote a lot and your patient was still happy.  You didn't used to do stuff like that, says Asia.

One interpretation for incorporating conversations and other collage techniques in the Book: to teach myself and also remember my growth individually and my growth within my friendships     One interpretation of incorporating conversations and different styles of writing in the Book: it fucks up time and syntax and wrestles unrest process into new languages     One interpretation for incorporating conversations and collage techniques into the Book: the proliferation of multiplicities and rains rhizomes that reflect the totality of human experience (ben adam son of man child of humanity)

I rewrite luna and lunar look lightning loot languages     Luna and lunar reflect lighthouse lenient littoral and sea shifts shift sift leviathan (I recently went to Monterey Bay Aquarium again and my favorite experience this time involved the giant sea bass – I took excellent photos of two grumpy looking giant sea bass, one in the Kelp Forest and the other in the Monterey Bay Habitats)

I relax the refrain slick in the boxing ring head movement     I dream repeated dreams draws ram boxing ben carbon     Carbon cool jazz chain cageless caravan carbon: body carbon dial records sax solo     I dream repeated calcium light night levee’s going to break ben carbon and I sample the rings claustrophobic counterpoint (two turntables, an audio mixer, and an amplifier)

I amplify sample skeleton bare bones bobcat cranked up beat box

I dream the wall drawings water repetition and the tenth point is located equidistant from the ninth point, the third point, and the midpoint on the topside

Topside I strip topless topsoil silly putty     I play putty nude horror body boxer (There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to successfully survive a horror movie!  For instance, number one: you can never have sex.  Sex equals death, OK?) (I masturbate metropolis melody     I masturbate metronome and arouse rubato aleph atempo)

The twenty-first point is located at the center of the wall

Point pierces wall     Point pierces wall post punctures wall wild waters     Point points from wall to wall and word to word / I masturbate common chord modulations     Point punctures wall home hook achromatic lament ground bass book aporia     Chromatic lament looks lunar or luna     Chromatic lament light basso profundo fumato wall wallop strappado world serpent / she found them in the desert region in the empty housing waste     Point parodies parrot exposition (metal gear?!)     I protect points plane lunar or luna stampede languages stampede pick point solar anus taryn passages peculiar

From this point to this point, passages: passages I imbue sexual antinomianism with eschatologies and mystical meaning     I open my appetite serpent kind (my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun)     I transform nihilism into greater zero and greater zebra     I translate nihilism to a different death of god and my death of god theologies (thanos thanatos taryn thunder the agony) plane train line dune death melody / melodic erotic desert death drinking guard gods     gods gem gall long circular ruins rock and stone twelve tone rows     ben blood bar bastard basket basking shark shell gun orgasms / my breasts blood suck body horror     My breasts bite bare body eschaton bone (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 horrendous ancient rite!  BLOOD FEAST   More grisly, even in blood color)     I feast on the blood of gods gore horns chromatic ground bass lunar melodies     I feast on the blood of girlish gods rite of spring louisiana lamp ghost light lights (Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing   Grant Morrison’s Animal Man) 

My body bruise blur boomerang blood / my blood clot batarang rain taryn antinomianism     My body arc absurd bodies comic comic extremely long bones     Long beetles swarm in and out of my body orifices over disorder chew many holes whole flesh tunnels     Beetles tunnel relaxing at the camarillo and bomb birds of paradise lunar or luna

I Explore All The Avenues The Tune Offers

No tunes, just a sonic storming of the heavens, the sound of longing unbound

Push sound     Push sound prayer sound prayer search serpent: sow serpents take the horn out of your mouth but I mouth horn constant     My mouth machines blue bull horns liturgy of the hours     You have to use some imagination to hear the song inside of it

No tunes but turn touch Taryn twice   touch twice trace taste Taryn   Taryn theme tower twist trick tempo     No tunes I count tempo

Push pure sound performance art     Push sound pulse impulse play performance     Push sound seer process prophecy and I pursue prophecy sound scripture sound poetry     Sound prayer search serpents: sow serpent now sound and I sound horned moon     I sound lunar horns take the horn out of your mouth but I do not take the horn out of my mouth     I mouth sound motion water mechanics mechanical bull mixed multitudes     I mix sound sound mixture ben begins the beach     I sound mix sounds sign jazz improvised gospel and I let the sound blend body body bow blood sound     Sound bow bay of blood ben beach blonde and sound steeps lunar horn horned steppe

I do not take the horn out of my mouth but mouth mixture mixtures top soil tetragrammaton

I do not take the horn out of my mouth but I mouth moon hell high mine sea     Sea slow sword sound mouth tenor saxophone serpent paw print tone row     My mouth machine mines moorland moor mother moon     My mouth moon mirror silver bull horn hell liturgy of the hours     I hear hours cave mouth and moon mouth map ship imagination ink sons

Push sound cross klang     Cross klang autoclave collage collage chymistry     Cross collage car chymistry coin-operated arcade machines / push sound Ms. Pac-Man

Push sound cross klang     Cross klang hang bang classic quartet     I quick klang classic quartet first great quintet second great quintet     Cross klang sang rain sheets of sound rain     Sheets of sound spell sprawl calls bird bell yardbird yahweh / yahweh klang reed waters water redshift     Waters redshift rhizome room roma cross     I roam cross as camera or human photograph and I photograph accidental bodies

(Boulevard du Temple, Paris, 3rd arrondissement, Daguerreotype. Made in 1838 by inventor Louis Daguerre, this is believed to be the earliest photograph showing a living person. It is a view of a busy street, but because the exposure lasted for 4 to 5 minutes the moving traffic left no trace. Only the two men near the bottom left corner, one apparently having his boots polished by the other, stayed in one place long enough to be visible. As with most daguerreotypes, the image is a mirror image.)

I sound cross as accidental cameras and incident bodies: bodied ink flesh sink bone bowl

Sound human body blow overtones / heart harmonics klang camera harmolodics

Klang defanged chain gang mustangs     Klang chain gang cross ape out sine wave oscillator     Beat ‘em up top down perspective aporia desert desert drift / drift camera exposure naked     I drift gnarled camera rack body much wrench exposed ben naked

Cross klang clean it’s about that time     Cross klang clean camera capture call it anything     Camera drift desert directions directions     Desert clang cross orangutan boomerang     Klang catch hang claustrophobic cloisters cloud cross changes     Cloud cross collects con man tone clusters / catwoman tenor saxophone phantom camera     Cross klang cloud clock edit splice midwife     Midwife myriad cross klang sound matrix: material sound sessions on the corner     I sound session on the corner hi-hat pulse big fun     Cross klang boomerang overhang hag strum and drang     Cross camera draws desert drag plains mustangs

Also, I had an idea for your blog, says Asia.  In the future, if you publish your book, it’s not going to look like your blog at all.  So you should think about your blog as a place where you post book fodder or book seeds but the blog is not the book.  I say all this to say that you should expand your idea of the book and the blog.  I also think that people might enjoy it if you posted a few essays about your writing process and your own personal struggles with your writing and your sense of identity, says Asia.

Everything is purged from this painting but art: no ideas have entered this work (Everything is purged from this writing including art; no ideas have entered this book) (Everything is purged from this writing except the apparitions of the names of various women: Krystal, Christina, Taryn, Asia…) (Everything is purged from this writing except Asia; her ides envelope the work)

Yeah, you’re right: I should think about the blog more flexibly.  I told you about the artist Tehching Hsieh before.  He did year long pieces during the 1970s and 1980s – like for a year, he did not allow himself to enter a building effectively making him homeless, one year he spent tied to artist Linda Montano, one year he punched a time clock every hour… What he did is extensively document these performances.  I saw a video recently on his work.  For his time clock piece, he took a photograph every single time he did punch the clock.  And he had friends come and document it and make it official.  So even though the performance part was ephemera, the documentation and commentary on the piece still exists.  I think your point about the blog is it’s not equivalent to the Book – it can be something different too, it can be a documentation and commentary and exploration of the Book too.  Let me know if I’m interpreting you incorrectly.  Yeah, that sounds like what I’m trying to say, says Asia.  OK, I am curious about this then – what if I write an essay for the blog, but then incorporate it into the Book later as part of the Book?  Would you approve of that kind of ambiguity and flexibility?  Yeah, why not? Says Asia.  Though you should know that it might lead you to editing less of your other writing and you might need to come to terms with that, says Asia.

The piece I referred to in the above conversation:  One Year Performance 1980 to 1981  (Statement.  I, SAM HSIEH, plan to do a one year performance piece.  I shall punch a time clock in my studio every hour on the hour for one year.  I shall immediately leave my time clock room, each time after I punch the Time Clock.  The performance shall begin on April 11. 1980 at 7 PM and continue until April 11, 1981 at 6 PM…)

I write time taryn everything     Time taryn theater traffic trillium time     Time time taryn alternating static time rhizome telegram trim     Tireless taryn time tips teaspoons spin snore taxonomy / Cornelius Cardew Treatise     I tear time from text: the text which spirals counterpoise witch erotic (Any man could have her… But only the hardest was a match for SWEET GEORGIA   She was ready, willing, and even hotter than the sun.  She made play boys into play things!)

Text Taryn spirals counterclockwise cloud texts klang     Klang push sound puns and palindromes / repetitive patterns of sounds that lead to scatological or obscene associations: to pulsating human activity

I eliminate ideas aisles inset insects apophatic acupuncture     I deconstruct ideas eyeballs antlers unerased apophatic (pale face said to the eyeball kid she just go clank and boom and steam)

Klang clank crank     Klang crank crank klang crank crank blood bang boomerangs     Klang clank crank copulate crosses and crucifixions     Crucifixions crank flank prank April Fool’s Day fakeout endings and parody slashers / slashers foreshadow my self-aware postmodernism     Book parodies Book my bodys lashed film strip slasher striptease     Clank clownfish tank escapade aquarium tank turrets: turret taryn tor mer stripper poles     Crank outflanks snowbank ship shoelace solar windows     Window body boat bone clank and boom and steam     I scream steam stimmung cicada dada desert

Window body boom bloom witch broom blind book     Book boom broom bloom music mushroom musics     Book boom funeral doom door doppelganger god gods bell witch     I ring bell witch boombox boardroom legumes ledger lights     Boombox experiment perfume     boombox experiment taproot rhema rhizome     I experiment excess boombox waiting room (everybody’s moving moving moving please don’t leave me to remain in the waiting room)     I experiment emergency root dynamics stream steam she’s such a scream     She steam blood scream extreme jet pulse body propulsion     Blood pulses ben body slashes boombox screams

I’m trying to approach my writing more flexibly, I say.  I’m trying to count pages less in my “official” final draft notebook and more just try to count making progress and brainstorming… I’m trying to change it to be about the whole creative process, not just final output.  I’m lad to hear that, says Asia.  You were too rigid.  That’s why I said to put emphasis on the process.  The process keeps going and going, she says.  Yeah, you're right, I say.  It just takes a long time to train my brain you know.  I understand, says Asia.

I desert idea igor stravinsky les noces / nocturne frankenstein’s bride     Frankenstein’s bride paints brush black bold strokes stroke my brain ischemic devoid ideas iguanodon

I scream steam morpheme morphine and grapheme graphite more myth / mainstream whipped cream wet dream

The aspect I find most challenging about the Book: transitions     to transition from one stanza to the next, one section to the next, and utilize the connections and associations effectively and completely     I study the word and the language of scream: I attempt to explore every permutation, combination, and association with scream     What John Coltrane said: they’re long because all the soloists try to explore all the avenues that the tune offers… They try to use all their resources that the tune offers… Everybody has quite a bit to work on…     I have quite a bit to work on     I explore all the possibilities of scream or clank or clang, and use the word to create new language     Once I explore and create new language – the challenge then – TRANSITION     I write troublesome transition from language to another language (I think of the second superstring revolution:  In the early 1990s, Edward Witten and others found strong evidence that the different superstring theories were different limits of an 11-dimensional theory that became known as M-Theory… The different versions of superstring theory were unified by new equivalences… These were known as S-duality, T-duality, and U-duality, mirror symmetry, and conifold transitions…) (I too would like to find creative and insightful transitions and translations and mappings between languages – not anywhere near as rigorous, but I hope still surprising, provocative, and evocative – give me that monstrous moonshine transitions and connections)

Instead of looking at things, look between things

I look lattice ladybug matrix     Look last house on the left dagger taryn lapdance     Christina through the looking glass glow sand camera cross human photograph / I have always been very interested in photography… I have looked at far more photographs than I have paintings     I photograph afar body glass transition through a glass darkly

I look process sound no transition but volumes     My interest in the instrument: a sound-making device, not a note-making device

I look Christina through the looking glass bell body     Ben and Christina BELLS TOGETHER     Bells together bell witch window towers towers tone cluster towers     I look between fingers and toes: empty space then transition     I chop off fingers and toes with a heavy cleaver / clever clearer cross garlic cloves empty space     Body always spaces space a starward space open star wars     Star wars strut space storm trooper implode cyclops ideas idiot wind benjamin     Idiot wind katzenjammer kid benjamin we’re idiots babe it’s a wonder we still know how to breathe

She’s such a scream stabs habit blood on the tracks     Blood clanks book body iron immense in marginal emendation run amok 

Do you think the language in the Book is beautiful? I say.  Sometimes, yeah, says Asia.  What makes it beautiful to you?  How it sounds or the association it creates.  Do you I should try so you feel it’s beautiful all the time?  I guess so.  Is that really what you're going for all the time? says Asia.  That’s why I wanted your feedback on it.  Asked my friend Violet too.  (Do you think I write beautiful sentences? I ask Violet.  I wouldn’t say you write sentences but I think you write beautifully, says Violet.  How would you describe my basic unit of length then?  I don’t know if it fits into a category, she says.  It just goes until it stops)  I feel like making every line beautiful would contradict things that you are trying to do, says Asia.

I want to write the beautiful line all the time     I want to write the walls of my skull bend backwards and in like labyrinth all the time     Labyrinth looks ladybug marginal emendation run amok     I inlay two cone copies of the Book into longer sheets to make room for all the revisions     My scrawling alterations cover all the generous white space and insert the marginalia into three different locations into the original text

I Rearrange And Transform The Old Into New

I distance myself from the tunes through melodic distortion     I distance distance dynamic     Distance dynamic a scanner darkly / rationals dense in the reals     Distort writing dark: dense dark eye eye piston     I distance     I distance den din dark mark: gospel of mark street sharks     I totally negate pitch relationships     I negate pitch text tent train cement     I text sound as space     I text sound space squared on being an angel number one     One only circles assemblage angels celestial accumulation     Sound sharp swarm angel     Space speculum that doesn’t shine

I work sound space work     I work sound space melodic rainbow line work     Rainbow line slice work skull: I hang at the place called the skull and my skull in mimetic camouflage flare polka dot blood     Blood brash shark body / free music is a new blues

I follow melodic rainbow runner rain into fields     I follow fields flow flaw fields fur / flaw follow unfinish   unfinish film fun field pornography   unfinish familiar / featureless face to face

My face fuse following field fuses fusion

The texture remains fluid yet shaped by the progression of events

I follow far forget flesh but face     Face far scar star burn scan / scantron tetragrammaton   blue box test two witnesses   witness word far burning ben ben fields     Face fire rhythm furniture: stackable chairs, folding table     Chairs stacked human bodies yet another day alone I awake up in these chairs     Chair child of humanity machines additional chair dream (If you still have nightmares about the shower scene Psycho... Close your eyes when Sugar steps into the tub   What Wendy just saw them do will make you sick to your stomach… if it doesn't make you faint first!  If you can’t take a lot of blood don’t go see THE HORRIBLE HOUSE ON THE HILL) 

My face blooms blood bozo red red sphinx riddle   riddle baby rattle kaboom   rattlesnake sleep snare-drum     My face flowers blood swamp sleepy hollow on being an angel halo harrowing of hell hangover / erratic attic blood bosom     Blood boil billow silo holy ghost

I follow the melodic rainbow line lured nonlinear leed lamp lead led zeppelin zebra

I discovered the traditional purpose for making music: to imitate nature in her manner of operation and to sober and quiet the mind thus making it susceptible to divine influences.  Thus I was freed from expression…

Discover desert and discover desert music     Discover desert dream seamless music serpent sonatina

Discover desert making music     Make music: make anything odd angels     Odd number angels pulse pythagorean gustatory grammar     Odd number archegrammar angels augmented coat hangar corpse airplanes     Coat hangar horrible house on the hill hostile harsh discover     Hostile holistic sharp harps desert dress attack

I discover desert music mouth texas chain saw massacre     I saw saw chain saw seer stream stresses (I follow the melodic nonlinear harpoon desert harpoon / human hack chair bicycle saw chain mouth chew chassis)

I follow experiment and I discover experiment / avant-garde excess     Avant-garde god abstract gesture     I gesture textures tour tapestries / I experiment field tapestry and field mural

Experiment experiment excess imitate excess ire ben body brush brush rush / ostinato surgical operations

I search     I search and I do not find     I do not find and my flesh falters     My flesh founds formal mammoth cave system / flesh chain saw system man machine     My flesh found formal mammoth cave system / flesh cascades and flesh chambers     Key clay flesh consonance and dissonance (the overtone series on C with primary lower intervals and derived C major triad)

I search experiment     Experiment ur insect underground gown avant-garde     I search experiment cotton crown / chromaticism outweighs diatonicism and nonharmonic tones overshadow harmonic tones

I talk tones chinese telephone experiment     I talk tones take turn tome pantonal     Talk tear trail ton taste experiment     I tone tongue taryn torah tap tank atonal     Tone trash experiment star mar mad math

(I feel frustration     I see the dream wing desert detuned desert     I see the dream dream set cells atonal) (Rather than set up small engines of motivic materials and let them run free in a kind of random play of counterpoint, I use the fabric of continually repeating ells to forge large architectonic shapes, creating a web of activity that, even within the course of a single movement, reveals more detail, more variation, and knows both light and dark, severity and turbulence)

I feel frustration     I see dream wing desert word sword draw desert cells: cell saw chain engines     Cell chain saw engine middle english eye oar architecture     Chain combine corridor corrode shape laboratory free dream     I dream free frustration     Son of Man frustrates furniture music stations of the cross sabbatai sevi     Seeds of Seth shape single section movement body frustration     Seth chain saw spectral speech / oral torah taryn tetragrammaton trance retrace counterpoint: I still cannot make it concrete in Written Torah / Nag Hammadi Codex

Book frustrates and I wrestle writing     Book frustrates my flesh blisters brighter gestures     I wrestle writing motivic materials run rain rain run asymmetry     Wrestle writing express experiment gesture improvisation     Improvisation mediation immediately and at once the spirit drove him into the desert and he remained there for forty days and was put to the test by the Accuser     I write among the wild animals and animals project pulse materials (motivic materials chain massacre funeral march)

I see the light only shooting forth great rays of light

Asia rains light light runner light     Asia rains light light romance rain / light loom romantic     I write Asia approximately Sophia and Shekinah a triangle similar and congruent I write Taryn approximately Sophia and Shekinah     Asia atmosphere sheer rain shines Shekinah and I write first conversations in the beginning     I write and archive rains and rivers Asia only ocean and I eventually enjoy even the bad conversations with Asia (I think just putting important parts would be best, says Asia.  Yes, but there’s a lot of important parts, I say)     Asia run rain rhizome rains circular ruins and if she left off dreaming of me all light when light no spread through window     I lurk in her light     I lurk in her light eclipse toon ellipsis Christina cunt cyclops

I surround shine shadow shine and sometimes I obsess Asia rivers rains lakes lights lights like I obsess with anything     I surround shine shrine of the silver monkey most materials monomanias     Moon moon Asia monomanias mimic light lunacy lunatic laboratory     Most Asia marshlight moon monomanias mechanical animal olive oil origins     Still, Asia tolerates me like Taryn tolerates me like Christina tolerates me     I tolerate her happily too

Write Cecil Taylor energies     Write Cecil Taylor improvisations different time I follow melody     I follow Asia feral fang languages / nonlinear time simultaneously time     The melody contains enough rhythm and energy to stabilize the music and moves it forward / each instrument performs melodic and rhythmic roles and time keeping loses its importance amid the flow of continuous energy

I play a time smeared ben body blur something different something else     Play nonlinearly     Play time contaminated time block time eternal present deconstruction     Play nonlinear optics I fucked up mirrors     Flesh strobe fucked up mirror through a scanner darkly     I write without time time without time crucifixions / urgrund groundless golotha     Time without time past contaminating present contaminating future contaminating past spiral galaxy galaga ouroboros     My body babel barbaric time baritone untoned blizzard     The rope dancer accompanies herself with shadows     Time shade body slender cycle shackle awake: I awake body dance shadow time barbaric ben hinnom     Time without time pure dada creations continuous pure desert

I set the tempo and go     I start at full intensity and I do not deflate or peak: I plow intense plateau     I plow intense lines nonlinear palm tree garden     I disregard the band and I explore the textures: fool around with short, sweet melodies     I fool around fractals and fragments

I write run-on languages short motivic cells / small engines of motivic material     Run on rain cell clash clang run     Run sun sun cell I play much more of the instrument (Jackson Pollock Number 31, 1949   oil, enamel, aluminum paint and gesso on paper mounted on masonite)     I sequel cry and wail the writing stranger swing

Dear stranger, do you swing your arms yes?  No pressure.  I wonder, do your extremities deal with cold?

Sketch stranger surprise language     Surprise war word nightjar warble (hammer your plowshares into swords your bill-hooks into spears)     I surprise with strange spear / the wound can only be healed by the spear that made it

Sketch the phantom stranger two cocks cocked as large .50 caliber revolvers     Revolver sketch fun from rear nitro neon nitrous acid nitrous oxide / language laughing gas goombas     Laughing gas gilligan’s island eye explosion     Strange star porno stilts (tricolor carbro process and autochromes   multiple exposures over negatives)     I swing my arms like this   I walk like this   I talk like this (Remember Eddie?  When I killed your brother, I talked just like THIS!)      I swing my arms Secret Origins Volume 2, Issue #10, a variation of the Wandering Jew story     Spared god’s wrath by an angel, I question god’s actions and commit suicide and the angel prevents my spirit from entering the afterlife (I dream I fall headlong and burst open and all my entrails pour out) (Nobody knows the trouble I’ve been through nobody knows but Jesus   Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen glory hallelujah)


Conversations with Asia 07/09/2020 3:53 AM

Would you like to read an excerpt from 2010? I say.  Sure, says Asia.  [I send Asia an excerpt entitled Harvey Pekar (excerpt from the book Bunnies For Christina, originally posted to my blog on July 9, 2020].  It’s different from your work now, says Asia.  I like it thought.  Yeah, I have gone through a few different styles but I think they all sound like me.  Did I ever send you excerpts in my oldest style?  [I send Asia two excerpts:  Christina Singular (excerpt from Bunnies For Christina, posted on July 8, 2020, and Creation Myth from Bunnies for Christina, posted July 5, 2020].  It’s interesting because it seems like you use less words as time passes, she says.  I don't know if that’s good or bad, I say.  Could be you are getting more efficient, says Asia.  But I have noticed your older work has more narrative qualities to it while your newer work focuses more on themes.  I might try to do more narrative in the future, I say.


I haven’t written more narrative; I’ve gotten farther into myth and work more sound and play and constellation     How narrative: that interests me as a question     How does a middle-age ben write a narrative now (the closest thing I’ve come to narrative: writing about my experiences in the nursing program and my experiences with Taryn)     How narrative: a series of windows     Each window a short prose poem or microfiction, not necessarily related except by their juxtaposition     Short story sequenzas or song cycles / short story syncopations   circular rain rhythms     Expect me to abandon this idea like I abandon all my other ideas but I do like the idea of a collection of narrative miniatures arranged all on the same page     I go back to the room and write

(Nobody knows the trouble I’ve been through nobody knows but Jesus   Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen glory hallelujah) (Yahweh abandons Jesus too     I too trouble transmigration and transmutation eloi eloi lema sabachthani     Yahu abandons incomplete incompletely)

Charles Ives and Wolfgang Rihm inspire me to revisit my past work and rearrange and transform them anew     I will rearrange and transform excerpts I send to Asia through new inspiration / experience / experiment (Wolfgang Rihm does not always regard a finished work the last word on the subject – for example the orchestral work las offene… (1990) was completely rewritten in 1992, and then used as the basis for his piano concerto Sphere (1994), before the piano part of Sphere was recast for the solo piano work Nachstudie (also 1994)) (The Guardian wrote in 2012 on Wolfgang Rihm: enormous output and bewildering variety of styles and sounds

I Involve Myself In Longer Improvisations

I was rewriting old stuff, I say to Asia.  I wrote:  

Deconstruction always writes love letters… I always write love letters to YHVH and KRYSXTRYN

It made me think how much I miss Yahweh sometimes even though obviously it wasn’t a good relationship.  I mean it wasn’t me who even ended it.  He abandoned me.  But I was thinking who much he still ghosts and haunts… I don’t think your feelings would change about me if I went back to Christianity.  I see how you’re not very haunted by Christianity, but I feel I often am, I say.  My feelings wouldn’t change, says Asia.  And I understand: I felt like god and Christianity haunted me for a very long time.  I still do every once in awhile.  And if you went back, I don’t think it would hurt you.  You had a decent community there and they were very open minded and accepting.  I don’t think you can grow there though, she says.  I didn’t realize you did [feel haunted] every once in awhile, I say.  Oh yeah, says Asia.  It was just last January that my mom said getting mental help was a sign that I was still myself and I spiraled bigly because in the Christianity I grew up in, you couldn’t trust your emotions and there were all kinds of secret sin so what if I was lying to myself and I was a worthless piece of shit and god was going to damn me to hell? says Asia.  I’m not sure you’d know the answer but where or how do you think I would grow best?  Maybe I’m projecting but I think you need a space where you are allowed to define spirituality for yourself and no one is defining it for you, she says.

I have a vision of the spiritual space as a library, but unlike the Library of Babel, I know the location of the circular chamber containing the great circular book with the continuous spine… The Book is not god but ben adam, a son of man and a son of perdition, and my sins sow sacred     My sins seed new spider gods and new serpent gods, unusual and defamiliar holy spirits

That position of playing these Bill Evans to Coltrane type things to playing completely improvised pieces

My eyes improvise insects     My eyes improvise insects complete metamorphosis   cyclical summer cicada improvisations   cicada were wolf chariot wheel improvisations     My eyes surprise instant insects / interior brine shrimp salt brain   my brain salts sea monkeys

Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition

I play perdition dorian my flesh phyrgian     I play perdition photograph and print peacock angel     Peacock angel angles peacock tail stop-motion animation     I pitch perdition as parasite but peacock perches prima materia / palm tree garden

I sin perdition peridot     I sin perdition aperiodic peridot, pure chaotic cut cut calvin and cut chariot my bodies

(Everyone seems to record everything they play) (I play and if only play more: more amour ada or ardor isosceles avalanche) (I play SNOW EXPLODE snow explosion castlevania earth) (Castlevania castaway castanets   castanet canary almonds)

Almonds aleph     Almonds alpha and omega     Aleph almond discovered walnuts     Discovered geometries walnut wheels (I found god and religion too)

Disordered walnut word women women     Walnut malchut: malchut leaf cutter cutters clack klang chariots: chariot bone char charizard improvisation

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form

Form flings fast futures (I write towards this particular future, this peculiar apocalypse)     Form flings fishers of men and the son of man hooks son of perdition ben-hinnom     My flesh ben-hinnom and my sin flirt fast flag operations     Ben sing honey hinnom windows: been whirlwind ben adam

More form less form simultaneous     More form less form both directions at once

(My flesh fishes folk tradition and folk process) (My flesh fishes garden of forking paths tuning fork phrygian)

Let his days be few; and let another take his office

Office ostinato ouroboros floor fell: more form less form both directions at once office open

I’m using modes now, because I’m trying to get more form in the free form… From simple melody to complicated textures to simplicity again and then back to the more dense, the more complex sounds

I meditate modes measured or mapped into mediums / I desire to write an intermedia and mixed media     I desire simultaneous simplicity and complexity (lower partials an often require great subtlety of bowing to reveal)     I meditate musical modes / mode median mean     I meditate modal jazz and I Modulate from dorian to lydian or mixoldyian to phyrigian / free flesh and phyrigan flesh

John Coltrane’s Meditations (My goal in mediating on through this music however, remains the same.  And that is to uplift people, as much as I can.  To inspire them to realize more and more of their capacities for living meaningful lives.  Because there certainly is meaning to life)

John Coltrane’s Meditations; mode then mode form free form (I unfix my flesh freer writing)


I have been experimenting writing more and in the first person and reflecting on my writing openly, I say.  Wondering out loud what I want to do with this experiment, if it’s working, possible solutions I can take.  Here’s an example from today’s blog post:

(Conversations with others helps me to develop my prophetic ideas: a human form of rubber duck debugging     I monologue and the other receives and their vessels visit me in visions     I think Philip K. Dick had a similar idea about the Christ and AntiChrist as siblings     I need to listen more: receive more: eat more light her leviathan)

However I want to push it more and be even more open about it I say.  Yes, says Asia, but alternating between I and my often and don't be afraid of you.  A well-placed you can rope in an unsuspecting reader and put them in the center of attention.  I’ve felt for awhile that your writing feels detached from you like you are severed from it when I read it even when it’s about your own feelings, and now that you mention it, the reason why is so obvious.  What's the reason why, you think? I say.  It’s the lack of personal pronouns, says Asia.  That's part of it anyways.  I also think you tend to bring up these juicy personal emotions and then quickly drop them without fully engaging in them in the piece… I don’t think you should go back to fully doing first person.  I personally think pronouns should jump scare people when they are reading poetry, says Asia.  I agree, I say.  I want an eclectic and flexible approach, a pragmatic approach.  There’s a quote from philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein that’s been inspiring me:  there’s not a single philosophical method, though there are indeed methods, different therapies, as it were…


I invent something else     I invent a stranger improvisation: a new-old improvisation and a radical-tradition improvisation     Not a radical orthodoxy but a heterodox marriage of heaven and hell     A hodgepodge radically heterodox hop-scotch greater game

(Like when I was doing free jazz, says Ornette Coleman, most people thought that I just picked up my saxophone and played whatever was going through my head, without following any rule, but that wasn't true)

I invent something else: not a something without rules or structure, but I play the modes to get more form in the free form

(The idea that two or three people can have a conversation with sounds, without trying to dominate or lead it)

I invent something else   else sound other sound (once in awhile, playing a long, very quiet tone)     I tune tones looney tunes table trajectories     I toon tones amplified animation (an example of traditional animation, a horse animated by rotoscoping from Eadweard Muybridge’s 19th century photos)

I invent something else excess improvisation     Radical rhizome improvisation fever hell     Hell hodgepodge hop-scotch hall monitor monitor lizard laugh track hell     Hell gone backgammon backstop stone stilts steeple chase staples     Staple chain steeple striated muscle

I pull and stretch the language like salt water taffys     I strike languages stone sounds (any pitch, any tuning of that pitch)     I love language as SOUNDS, a clattering ionization of rains and percussions and the sounds signal sirens lions roars     I rotate languages round sound: muted then open

I try to write a purer and purer sound / outdoors or in a larger resonant space

Staple chain church steeple stall striated muscle (My body blusters clumsy fumbled flesh: fleshscape landscape sits other FLESH CAFE     Flesh floorless roller coaster flesh     My flesh flabbergast geist cotton candy     I’ve got a kotton crown kottonmouth kings)

Cotton candy stations of the cross stacked fourths fourth forked flesh     Cotton candy stations of the cross klang cotton candy khora (you've got a cotton crown gonna keep it underground)

Cotton candy cords Christianity altered dominant chords     Cotton candy spins sugar thread lydian stations of the cross she lights the lights brighter lydian chymistries (you’re going to take control of chemistry and you’re gonna manifest the mystery)

That the man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition

The Revenge Of Charlie Parker Rhythm Experiments

Play everything I could possibly play     Play everything I could possibly play I could try anything     All mediums used to the maximum

I take myself too seriously so I play     I move my body dance between desert my body automobile sculpture autodeconstruction     I play avant-garde jazz and free jazz     I play Olivier Messiaen Tarungalila-Symphonie and I hymn I sing now joy despite bodies decaying something else     I play the something else anyway     I play the shape of jazz to come and the shape of punk to come anyway

I search for that new sound in my body with my body: my body dragged ragged rhythm harmolodics     Harmolodics word wilderness her labyrinth of my languages

I listen to Ornette Coleman’s Body meta, a record with his band Prime Time and they improvise harmolodic funk and free funk, and my flesh feels free funk fat rhythm tetragrammaton     My flesh widens word a legato free funk liquid she lights the lights, and my body dances sidewind word serpenttime, something over electric electric rhythms doubled bodies

A common link between Albert Ayler moving music to even higher frequencies and Ornette Coleman’s marriage of heaven and hell funk harmolodics: the drumming of Ronald Shannon Jackson (I almost forget he also played with the incredible free jazz noise group Last Exit)     I write a simultaneously more rigid and freer funk rhythm     Sprung rhythm spring heel jack urgrund joy     Joy buzzer orgasm ungrund: garden gruppen gaps writing river writing     Writing rhizome writing

I return to rhythm     I revive rhythm experiments     I edit a post for my blog for August 22, 2023 entitled “Charlie Parker Rhythm Experiments” and I return to these experiments to revise, reflect, expand, and extend: extend more earth free funk simultaneous     Prime time double trio larger rhythm and more expansive rhythm (perhaps analogous to what John Coltrane said on using two basses: to make the time more plastic)

I write freer funk rhythm my boy bold brushstroke breath music

(I copy directly from my past writing and the blog post):

I read an article about how to play rhythmically like Charlie Parker and decide to borrow some of its practice tips (I did credit the author in my original writing: it’s from an article on Jazz Advice entitled “The Powerful Rhythmic Principles of Charlie Parker” published on December 25, 2018 by the author Forrest – no last name given): phrasing through barlines like Yardbird     Start in the middle of a bar: learn to start and end a phrase anywhere in a measure…     Start phrases on upbeats often: by starting your phrases on upbeats, you’ll force yourself ot play rhythms that move your phrases through barlines     Push your phrases to beat one and keep paying and end your phrases in the middle of the bar     Play through at least one barline per phrase…

I pick the following statement from some pulps or men’s magazine:  VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

(Write various rhythm experiments with this phrase)

Vampire     Vampire Vampire     Vampire vampire aporia     Aporia vampire aporia     Aporia vampire vampire aporia     Aporia Castlevania’s Vampire Killer (a quick aside: my second favorite Castlevania game, after Symphony of the Night, is Portrait of Ruin     Its main flaw: the last few portraits / areas are recycled from areas earlier in the game, but I still feel it’s a strong Castlevania game)

Vampire Killer the empire never ended vampire     Neil young vampire blues     I dream an imaginary painting by Edvard Munch entitled Blue Vampire     Vampire empire: a more rigid vampire rhythm alongside a more free vampire rhythm     Vampire double quartet simultaneously and I play first album length improvisation

It seems to me you like my writing line by line but not paragraph by paragraph, I say.  That’s a fair assessment, says Asia.  I think I could send you any random line and you will probably like it.  It’s just being barraged by it makes it a sensory short circuit, like watching a Michael Bay film.  That's pretty accurate, says Asia.  I have a suggestion.  Feel free to toss this aside, but what if you did your usual thing for two or three paragraphs and broke it up with a slow bit of narrative or commentary.  I’ve seen it done in poems before.  Like it gives it something solid to grab onto.  Bonus points if it’s a drastically different tone, says Asia.  That’s a solid idea, I say, and it is something I have been sort of experimenting with in an obscure way, like writing a metacommentary on my creative process.  I want to do it in a way where it is still literary and poetic and not dry and didactic; and in a way that doesn’t close off other interpretations or openings, I say.  It can still be poetic but drastically reduce the alliteration and have long, complicated sentences in that section.  That will help break it up, make the reader slow down and give you a chance to emphasize the theme you’ve been building or let the piece be a solid anchor that secures the rest, says Asia.  Would long complicated sentences defeat the point though of accessibility?  No, long complicated sentences aren’t complicated to read but do a magic trick where you literally make time slow down, says Asia.  Lots of descriptive detail adds to this effect too, says Asia.  I was using our conversations as a kind of anchor I thought, but we weren’t directly talking about the Book, I say.  I think your idea is good and I want to try it.  What I don’t want to do is what CG Jung did to his Red Book and Black Books.  He took his visions reduced them to scientific “respectable” language, I say.

I obsess rhythm and I feel flesh rhythm raspberry rainwater waters     I engage in rhythm experiments because I hope the rhythmic oddities breaks my brain open into something less subjective     I feel too subjective and I find myself caught up too much in my own tastes and aesthetics     I try to write beyond my brain using the aleatoric, cut-up machines, and other mechanical manglings of texts, and various exercises and experiments     I attempt to write something truly new to me, playing without memory writing without memory

VAMPIRE LEOPARD WOMEN ROAM THE JUNGLE

Vampire     Vampire vampire vengeance     Vampire vampire libertine vibrations     Vampire videotape volumes     Vampire video drone vulgar volumes (the battle for the mind of North American will be fought in the video arena – the videodrome…)

Vampire leopard vasectomy / Stations of the cross castration

Vampire leopard she lights the lights varicella videodisc / Stations of the cross chickenpox     (My body blisters bitches brew)

Vampire leopard verapamil / Vampire verb calcium channel blocker bitches brew     Imaginary blue witches blue witch dreams

Albert Ayler really opened me up as far as playing, says Ronald Shannon Jackson.  I had never really experienced totally playing before.  Up until then, my work had been playing the background: the “ching-ching-a-ding” line where you played like this person.  You played in a groove like Blakey or Max or Philly Joe, and at that time Tony Williams was riding the crest of the jazz wave.  You played like them or you weren’t playing!  Albert was the type of person who wouldn’t say “I want this” or “I want that”.  He’d just say “Play!  Fill it up with sound!”

I write TOTAL PLAYING     I write TOTAL PLAY animal aporia ark anarchy     Total play Sun Ra Arkestra     The Page as Sprawl was the Page as Field – this very page that overwhelms Asia with its bombs over baghdad drum n’ bass shock and aw – is my attempt to play total, to play everything, to fill up the page with sound     Not just a LOUD SOUND but a DYNAMIC SOUND     Sound with the imagined vinyl warmth, the lived-in experienced sound     This multidirectional simultaneous everything at once overwhelms me because there’s so much to write – nevertheless, I keep writing

Would you like to brainstorm some techniques with me then?  Sure.  Let’s take a short example of something you read the other day and we can try and figure it.  OK.  I thought maybe this would be a good starting point, I say:

Yahweh inflicts violence body fixed point fire     Yahweh inflicts violence female bodies and her death has the scent of roses (Mary Mother of God mystic rose like a rose among thorns so is my beloved among maidens     Eva Frank maiden iron maiden     Rose assembly of Israel)

Here's the main text.  For a commentary text, maybe something like this:

I read Bible word wrapped around my Brain and I cannot extinguish the visions of genocide and violence, of Yahweh demanding the blood of native Canaanites: animals, women and children; I imagine thousands of human bodies slaughter for the sake of a national god, by an invading force coming to take what God says is rightfully theirs... My mind juxtaposes it with the most delicate of images: the rose.  The Rose from the Song of Solomon, the Rose of the Beloved, sometimes interpreted as Christ and the Church, and as Israel and Yahweh.  The Rose too is bloody; human blood, and sometimes animal blood of sacrifices.  I dip the rose in Blood, and Eva Frank, the daughter of the great Jewish Apostate Jacob Frank, appears to me as a potential Messiah, as the Shekinah, and she too fails to cease the violence of God.

I just wrote this off the top off my head, stream-of-consciousness, so you tell me if this is what you were thinking of.  That’s probably a bit more detailed than it needs to be, and I would probably not write commentary on such a small segment like that, but just as a proof of concept.  I like that a lot, says Asia.

I decide to write something else like I always do, but I will return to rhythm and rhythm experiments like I always return to everything     It’s all related and remains the same thought and same Book even if Asia doesn't see the continuity (Asia always-already experiences the continuity)

Enter – Prime Time in forming a harmolodic band, where the needs of the composer and the players found challenging questions     Prime Time is not a jazz, classical, rock or blues ensemble     It is pure harmolodic where all forms that can or could exist yesterday, today, or tomorrow can exist in the now or the moment without a second

I listen to Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler and I write Fill It Up With Sound     I write FILL IT UP WITH SOUND

My writing is a mess / my writing is a mezzo-soprano     I sing syntactical ghost trance music interchangeable instrumentation     voices improvise similarly, strip the vowels but leave the voice (voice voices videodrome tonality diamond more than television)

Tonality diamond more than television (Before I was shot, I always thought I was more half-there than all-there – I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life.  People sometimes say that the way things happen in movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen in life that’s unreal.   The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television – you don’t feel anything.  Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television.  The channels switch but it’s all television.)

Television sets compose my skeleton     Television sets compact my skeleton     Television torques hook human / son of man machine maximum: maximum bodies maximum rocknroll holly holy roller rat fuck     Fuck fat backbeat bodies flesh free funk

The Experiment And Experience Of Writing As Research And Process

Anarchic animation: limited animated transformed at the threshold liminal animation     Trickster animation, an atelos terror chaos / Leprechaun in Space Hellraiser in Space Jason Voorhees in Space     A spacious animation / desert heteroglossia     Myself animated anew without name and the desert / anything desert but god     Anything desert khora newly animated no name but woman     No name but KRYSXTRYN Khora Asia Among Rivers: come, ascend the ladder, all come in, all sit down     KRYSXTRYN Khora Asia Rain: all come four times with your showers, descend to the base of the ladder and stand still

Write anarchic ladder rain: rain rhizome rain, Rashied Ali multidrectional     Multidirectional dyad desert then desert drone harmolodics     Desert anticipates limited animation     Desert anticipates Dover Boys limited animation and I maximum limited into liminal: Benjamin between thresholds     Benjamin blues between bow through threshold: the haunted stations of the cross     Stations of the cross desert hauntology / atelos midnight train Taryn tannin

My haunted gospel language: my haunted chariot wheel hymn languages

I tetter through texts nameless noise noise pottery poetry and noise language

It’s not what they do: it’s the ardor with which they do it

Composition, performance, ambition, or observation: really different things

Different things desert in desert write wildernesses

(To write without gods     To rediscover gospel and prophecy without gods) (I create multiple languages     Absurd languages     Nonsense language     Aleatoric languages     Anarchic languages     Anarchic languages     Languages at play languages     Languages contra counterpoint kontrapunkte languages)

Polyamorous polystylisms

I adore word as raw material: word word   brick word   word concrete music concrete babel brutalist benjamin     I adore my language languages, a polyglot finnegans wake woman and women

I have a difficult relationship with poetry, I say.  I don’t consider myself a poet but just about everyone who has read my writing considers it poetry.  That's pretty funny to be honest, says Asia.  It’s because of your relationship with words.  If words were a fish, then you are a sushi chef: cutting, arranging.  Normal writers don’t do that.  Just think of it this way: they aren’t trying to say that you write stuff that reminds them of poetry – they are talking about how you use words when you write and there isn’t anything wrong with that.  Poets are powerful when they realize what they can do, like Dr. Frankenstein taking body parts from a murdered language and creating a new creation defying the laws of nature, says Asia.

My language loosen more room monstrosities     Write erotic horror languages: don’t leave anything out play all of it     Write rhizomatic erotic bodies horror languages / reveled in the word spool     Spool spell gospel garden glass limited animation

Now I begin IMMEDIATE desert khora samples khora my nothing body oblivion     Nothing body ouroboros awful something fell from aloft leviathan     Khora samples khora samael soluble texture / water-soluble vitamin visions    Water-soluble spirit lesion / spirit spills spell the trace of the body     Spirit spills bloody spell book traces body through bore belly diamond     Spirit spills sprawl bodies tumors semen bloody hair spawn sinew     Spirit spills my skeleton screeches lilith lights and light leviathan and spirit swarms serpents and scorpions

Spirit sprites ghost spermatozoa squirm my body traces tall sprawl     Body my body traces electronic sprawl wire scripture     Scripture chops my body liminal animation     Scripture chops my body bodies bear gold bar books     Books trace interior god glottis then god grand guinol guts     Grand guinol ghost trace music then trace     Then my body traces Mr. Brown can moo can you     Then pine ten big fat hen my body traces desert nonsense: my illegible and indecipherable wilderness     My body sighs gospel macrocosm-microcosm chasomos of alchemy

Trace the then trace threshold     Trace then the threshold trace tron tetragrammaton     I trace tetragrammaton as an empty signifier and empty reference (Name kenosis     Name kenotic khora     I pour my body and god’s names empty from me     My body haunted name reshimu / tehiru taryn hauntology)

Don’t leave anything out – play all of it     Play out of it     Play inside outside outer darkness fires     Don’t leave traces but trace inside outside outer concentric circles: the trace negative inscribed in and out and as the event     Trace inscribes in out as erotic event     Erotic event explicit earth languages (Ben Adam was stuck with running a factory with a staff of provocative and unpredictable women… THE GARMENT INDUSTRY GIRLS)

Write trace worm weeds will ward tasted would weave     Vital trace vines as velvety vowels out nymph new outer darkness     Basket weave trace backbone viscous woman first bestial flesh by appears believe     Trace trace take trace Taryn trace trace     I trace play platypus platoon bunker-prayer

I trace play John The Baptist’s head on a silver platter and even the beheaded body still plays dead then undead underneath     Dead then undead underground the jealous god subverted by gnostics (When he saw creation surrounding him, and the throng of angels around him that had come forth from him, he said to them: I am a jealous god and there is no other god besides me.  By announcing this, he suggested to the angels with him that there is another god.  For if there was no other god, of whom would he be jealous?)

I trace texts and I copy texts     I sign and sample the text as my own yet I own nothing but the collective gods anarchy    I abhor atheism and I despise Christianity     I probably still believe in an omnipresent god, but this god abandons me daily (god is an asshole, Asia repeatedly says to me)     Study Death of God theologies     Study pantheism, panentheism and process theologies     I play my body postmodern postmodern poetics and theologies, and although I will never have faith in any metaphysical god again, I transform the ideas and texts into my god-body and material-body-divine     I adore philosophies, theologies, and scripture as machines for generating ideas, concepts, WORDS, languages

Is in on an event erotic kenosis and erotic bodies     I do not prophesy gods but I prophesy words, languages, women     Like William Blake purposefully and Philip K. Dick accidentally, I invent my own myth     I create myself myths     I attempt to create and recreate myself and my self-as-myth without god     Without christian god and without any transcendent god     I demand my gods as radically immanent, fully divine because they are fully human, totally human without father and mother but then the genealogies ground FLAT FLESH flesh underneath no names but underground human guts shaking     Human guts vibrating human guts grouped communal

I limit myself nothing but animations: animating dead     Seven sermons to the dead then undead urban bodies and uptown bodies overturned my flesh limited / unlimited     Limited unlimited: liminal     Body heavy hearth heterotopia     Utopia underground underneath then sea urchin uni urinal all holy fluids from my body 

The trace of the signature lighthouse and library    Haunted lighthouse lightyears tracery threadtern haunted library     Haunt hard determinism library leviathan ghosts intercostal bones 

Write no outside or inside but writing / you are the one who writes and the one who is written     You who writes you who written real tracings     Trace real trace imaginary icon tracings     Icon tracings stone traces desert tome home haunted wilderness     Home haunted nag hammadi wilderness     Trace real trace imaginary icon tracings     Icon tracings stone traces desert tome home haunted wilderness     Home haunted nag hammadi wilderness

(A runabout?  I’ll steal it!  No one will ever know!)

Steal     Steal repeat steal bebop rhythm     Steal repeat no repeat but steal: maximal steal     Maximal steal myth music mathematics     Minimal steal mimic limited animation and stations of the cross cuts my movements against any infinitely scrolling background     Steal size sale steal     Sail steal size sale steal     I steal holy spirit     I steal holy ghost pseudepigrapha     My body grasps then maps small digit manipulation     I manipulate maps marionettes netta netta nets my body void video-on-demand desert nothing     Manipulate maps amorphous free meter wilderness neti neti nets fishers of men body between manacles     Body bosom bondage

I push my body purloined letter     I push bodies letters of torah and sayings of torah, undead tunnel tetragrammaton gears bodies gravel     Gravel no ground ground no gods     Push bodies my body all ground all gods

A runabout rhizome     A runabout boxing ring rhizome     A runabout relay delay replay rhizome

I steal and revise rhizome as rhizome book scrap swamp skunk spray (write as library   write as experiment   write as play     write as experiment   write as play  write as process) (I guess all my work can really be called experimental, he said, but in a different sense from how John Cage used the word, and a bit different from how it’s been sued to describe the experimental tradition… It’s more literally an experiment, like a scientific experiment, and in science, in scientific work, one experiment always does lead to another… My sense of ‘experimental’ is just ongoing research)

Research repetition: research rhizome     Research anything: research say anything (The iconic Sharp GF-7600 Boombox that John Cusack held above his head)     If one writing experiment fails, write another experiment     Write experiment experience exegesis     Exegesis PKD desert runabout transmigration of timothy archer     I search something in desert, no secret scriptures but something dark     Something dark deep burrow book, where I confront this ugly writing, and this ugly embarrasses me

I feel there’s too much to write often, I say to Elizabeth.  I feel like there’s nothing to write often, says Elizabeth.  I feel I repeat myself often.  Trying to find new themselves to delve into, she says.  Repetition is difference, I say.  I shall meditation on that, she says.  There was a philosopher named Gilles Deleuze, I say, and he has a book called Difference And Repetition, and in this book he develops a metaphysics where identify is not the foundation but difference.  Every repeat is a difference.  Even if just different in time.  There is no identical moment of time because time moves forward and cannot be captured in NOW.  So imagine your repetition as a different expression.  Because it is a difference expression because the time changes always.  When I meditated on this naive understanding of Deleuze, I freed myself from the idea I was repeating myself.  I never repeat myself.  My repetition inscribes me in difference.  I am changing always and my writing is changing too.  Write and figure it out later, you know.  Or I just copy other stuff.  Your stuff will come out of it in the copying, I say.  You may have just unblocked my brain, says Elizabeth.  I’m going to get back to it.  I’ll start scheduling time to write everyday, says Elizabeth.  I just flipped through a notebook, I say, and one line says: it’s not filler, it’s exploration.  Go out and explore, I say.

I make water of the earth and earth of the air and air of the fire and fire of the earth

Do not fear repetition: do not fear repeating texts or even retreading texts, for the exact regurgitation remains impossible     Keep writing: keep failing: keep experimenting     Revive old ideas and texts and reexamine them     Make them new     Every writing a first writing     Every writing a first writing     Every inscription a first inscription     Everything inscription a first inscription     Every signature and trace first first flesh embodied ben body signature and trace

I make water of the earth and earth of the air and air of the fire and fire of the earth     Evening earth various fires     Evening immediate earth variety show fires     Evening immediate even number earths emperor of ice cream eros and I eat eros emerald inclusions lidless eyes and my eyes includes inclusion icicles     Eye eye earth fire eye eye erotic     Eye eye earth fire eye eye eater     Eye white pearly as a dead eye turned up in its socket

A runabout eye     A an eye innard glancing come on up you fearful jesuit guts     A an eye inner exudate sweeping wound eyes     Eyes heterodoxy dressing then desert debridement     A runabout eye robbing eye / I steal eye interior earth of fire and fire of water     I baptize eyes water water glands the size and shape of eggs and of a pearly whiteness faintly bloodshot like that of a globe of the eye

A runabout eye and a runny egg eye     An eye sunny side up     An eye hard boiled detective fiction     I repeat eye my eye robs runabout inside locusts     Locust light little death transmigration     Transmigration midnight monarchs / music murk a scanner darkly

Eye digests my eye erotic body rhythm     An eye intrigues     Intrigue eye introduces discrepancies delighted new     I make new: black sea   black luna   black sol     Black sol eye sea sand shell black     Black sol eye simmer sea eye frying pan pull bull body and my bodies burn black sea black luna black sol

My eye insists not mine but more fire and eyes slough sea salt empty socket eye eater (These girls do exactly what you think they do!  CANNIBAL GIRLS The picture with a warning bell!  When it rings – close your eyes if squeamish!)     I do not lose my eyes but my eyes cut screen screams film flask flesh     Alchemical flask flesh flash

My eye peers peeping tom pornographic     My eye peaks peeping thomas the twin pornography a gay romp of Jesus Christ with his disciples (hidden sayings sashay hidden body body naked)

Inevitable eye alphabet     Inevitable eye mickey mouse clubhouse hot dog dance     Eye iron ingot inevitable horrors (Just because something bears the aspect of inevitability one should not, therefore, go along willingly with it)

Tyranosaurus rex transmigration of souls

Experimental as in ongoing research

I write clumsy walking but I work to walk     I work to write walking not clumsy but claptrap clatter catastrophe     I write Keith Rowe changing his tabletop guitar set-up and again becoming unfamiliar-familiar through performance improvisation (apologies: despite the obvious appearance of spontaneity, I heavily edit     I edit Can cutting four hour improvisations into a studio recording and Giacinto Scelsi arranging and orchestrating loud piano improvisations     I work and strive to write Cecil Taylor)

I write awkward stumble down slinky spiral staircase     Spiral staircase haunting of hill house     Hill house hauntologies

(I still have the attitude of experiment in the piece I’m doing, I’m excited to be discovering new possibilities, even with techniques I’ve used extensively)

Experiment eyeball energies     Experiment eye energies an eerie eros     Experiment exceeds eye but more energy     Rush against the beat     Push fast against the pulse push fast pulp pulse play psalm patterns     I read palm light lossless looped over nonlinear burned orange


Conversations With Asia 05/14/2020 3:03 AM

I have been thinking about writing and its relationship to Christianity, I say.  What are your thoughts on it? says Asia.  There is a certain kind of reversal or overturning of biblical texts in my writing.  Right now I’m writing about this text from Isaiah where God declares the destruction of Edom and how his sword will be full of blood.  I have been subjecting the writing to the crucifixion and blood of Christ, the victim of violence and the metaphorical sword.  One thing I should say I truly believe writing is my spiritual calling and I do occupy the role of a kind of modern day prophet.  So I do take it very seriously even though it is very crazy.  Sounds interesting, says Asia.  One of my projects is a kind of rewriting of the Bible, I say.  My Book is a bible in a sense.  I’m always concerned with how delusional I am… I don’t think it’s crazy, says Asia.

I Kiss Khombu Icefall / Bloody Sword Fall, Parts 1 and 2

Content warning: discussion of emotional abuse; body horror imagery


I kiss khombu icefall and ice inserts incest eyeball eyeball cistern sister black mail blowjobs and other pornographic genres     Let inserts insects eye to eye isolated eye to isolated eye and rock-cut face to rock-cut face / blood shivers sisters blood sepia tone and blood sangria then santa sangre     Tongues soaked in lark aspic amplified acetone     I kiss khombu icefall something is killing the children and ice kills cool jazz orgasms     Khombu icefall flows Krystal eigenvectors falling volumes larks’ tongues in aspic     Aspic suspends quaking aspen colonies in frost giant gelatin (identified as a single living organism because its parts possess identical genetic markers and assumes to have a massive interconnected underground root system)

Root ribcage korakoram assemblages / assemblages elephant khora and khora in aleph     Assemblages acid appendages asphalt aspen multiplicities

Roots fun from rear neon new number less new annihilation     Roots rudder robber fly frequent blood floods     Roots rise rich into blood human rhizome interzone jungle gyms

Roots blood roots raw blood the rhizome book     Book assemblages assembly line nonlinear optics     Book assemblages nonlinear load leech light lossless root systems silver     Silver slivers shiver blood roots bloody roots rotten lasers (potassium titanyl phosphate phases nonlinear optics octagon optimus prime matrix puzzles     Solid state lasers lips I often otter other signals and I signal light roots and erratic shutter roots and roots decay into assemblages

Ribcage assemblage and ribcage rhizomes orange rust ouroboros     Orange saturday night wrist ouroboros / root and rhizome ostinato     Ostinato oubliette black iron prison poisons     Black iron prison pharmakon concussions and my brain rattles hard ice flathead engine glaciers / glaciers glide interior brain surfaces than water flood fulcrum     Waterfowl fulcrum flush grey matter matador and I dream desert delusions

If I am or was emotionally abusive to you, what made you decide to be friends with me?  I feel that kind of abuse would you unforgivable, for me.  Not that you have forgiven me – I don't want to assume that – but I wouldn't want that person in my life regardless of what happened next.  I don't know, says Asia.  I went into the conversation fully expecting to end the friendship because I didn’t feel I had much of a choice and I was tired.  I guess I felt like you were really going to change.  How do you feel about your choice now? I say.  How do you feel about how things have gone now?  So far, it’s been a lot better, says Asia.  But I still feel it’s hard to justify it, which is why it’s been hard for me to talk to my husband  about it because he’s probably going to say something along the lines of “it hasn’t even been a month, he’s going to do it again,” says Asia.

I kiss khombu icefall geological fallopian tubes and glaciers gestate secret slough holy spirit surfaces     Holy spirit brain tangle surfaces roots salt nonlinear partial differential equations (almost no general techniques exist that work for all such equations and usually each individual equation has to be studied as a separate problem)

Krystal khombu killing field giant kelp collects water cougar skeletons     Krystal kisses iceberg lattices blood and black lace glaciers in lingerie (I feel myself future flood wire fire and my wires weave sea of reeds red sea blood billows / surely God heard their prayers as they died – but did he hear their screams?) (I feel myself bloody ben adam and bloody bridegroom and the imaginary Yahweh seeks to cut me red canyon canyon brining benjamin bloods)

On the journey, when he halted for the night, Yahweh encountered him and tried to kill him.  Then Zipporah, taking up a flint, cut off her son’s foreskin and with it touched his feet and said, You are my blood-bridegroom!

Certain stations of the cross as circumfession     I confess cross as codex, traces and traces larks’ tongues towered light / the cross a circumference around me licking with a flame and I try to turn and circumvent, have never loved anything but the impossible

I confess – I confess what – and what – my eloi eloi lema sabacthani – this Yahweh forsaking me to flood and fire and my own flesh folded flash fires burning blood

I confess stations of the cross as codex and codex cuts blood crucifixion variations (I do because you are just like me.  You see Jesus in Gethsemane and believe your trial is the same as His.  Those five in the pit are suffering too, just like Jesus, but they don’t have your pride.  They would never compare themselves to Jesus.  Do you have the right to make them suffer?  I heard the cries of suffering in this same cell.  And I acted)

Lest I forget Gethsemane     Lest I forget thine agony     Lest I forget thy love for me     Lead me to Calvary

Then he withdrew from them, about a stone’s throw away, and knelt down and prayed: Father, he said, if you are willing, take this cup from me.  Nevertheless let your will be done, not mine.  Then an angel appeared to him, coming from heaven to give him strength.  In his anguish he prayed even more earnestly, and his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood…

Gethsemane as guillotine beheads gods great droplets of blood / I fall headlong and burst open and all my entrails pour out     Gethsemane as gravity knife falls and cuts stations of the cross into my abdomen, and my body brings bloody acre / Field of Blood Valley Ben-Hinnom

I feel like I’m realizing I’m the bad guy in my book, I say.  And certain negative traits in me run deeper than expected and it troubles me deeply.  I feel you definitely got the raw end of the deal.  I been fit a lot having you as my friend.  I am very thankful and grateful you are my friend, but it’s more difficult for you by far than for me, I say.  At the end of the say, I do believe in redemption, says Asia, but I can’t redeem you.  You have to.  So far it does seem like you are willing to put in the leg work.  You never seem to argue with me when I call you out.  A lot of toxic people I’ve dealt with before always seem to double down but you don’t.  Sometimes it feels like talking to two different people but it’s not always like a self-deprecating thing either, so I think that’s a good sign.  You’re willing to take criticism and you’re self-aware to a certain extent.

Seamless Gethsemane separates

Seamless Gethsemane germinates gods gehenna and gods palm tree garden     I do not separate but seamstress sevens and sabbaths, an all sabbath awkward gardens, and I do not separates sometimes Christ sometimes door sometimes a way sometimes bread

Seamless Gethsemane more general crucifixions Christian factions I fixate on the trace of the garden / blood again what blood will have been for me

I will always write the Passion     I will always write the play and pass of Passion / northwest passage palm angels

Open acknowledgment opening / John Coltrane plays an ascending pattern in the key of E major, then developed related melodic cells that run up and down for the major part of his improvisation

I return to my cell and pray psalms     I return to my cell the hidden apartment compartment of the cross and cross improvises eons ions impossible passion and an impossible passion for the cross

My cell isolates ice frozen idioglossia     Ice grabs gods icebox blood and cell compounds gears bolts sockets alien titanium in my skeleton     My adamantium skeleton sounds Thelonious Monk reanimated as a dystopian android with lasers for eyes

I kiss khombu icefall and ice robes link to the past     Ice robes robs link to the past past present play to the passion     Dark World touches World as lightning rod and Alucard’s shield rod summoning fish scale demons     Shield rod summons scalded demons and demons scalp their magic tickets to the Salem Witch Trails

I live in peace until he makes me totter taking me back by the neck to shatter me     H sets me up as his target: he shoots his arrows at me from all sides pitilessly pierces my loins and pours out my gall on the ground     Breach after breach he drives through me charging like a warrior

Blood breaks blood     Blood boats blood blood on the leaves Yahweh leaves me blood breach bloody bodies red ice beaches

Black blood black paintings red pigment through a broadsword     Broadsword slices last supper bloody cup and the cross candies crucible steel     The Cross winds wootz steel word     The Cross worships Taryn Broadsword Barley Towers and steel silos slide diminished sevenths     Wootz steel totters as Yahweh in holy spirit swords…     Wootz steel thistles crown of thorns threshold threshing floor and sword teeters towers keter her chasm     But now if you have a purse, take it, and the same with a haversack; if you have no sword, sell your cloak and buy one

Sword swims blood     Sword strikes bodies sterling silver fire and my blood reverberates oceanic     My blood replenishes oceanic, play plague passions     Sword swims swing bloody bloody jazz axeman of new orleans 

Early apocalypse     Early evening apocalypse son of perdition     I sin sword and sing sword sirens who skin son of me and devour their innards

Small ingots of high carbon steel forged and then thermal cycled in a specific manner that leads to carbide bands that produce the final pattern when the steel is etched

Those early in the morning, when the day is dawning blues     Big Ben upon the table ringout out unwelcome news

I brush blood doom in bloom     I brush blood bell witch high wire worship

High wire word worship war sword and warring woman / Taryn tears through infantry with her cursed swords     Her cursed sword charges the cross and crucifix Christians     Christianity crushes wine grapes and ferment gods of the sword / ingots incarnations high carbon Christs     Swords sketch amputated arms to weird gods amplify worm walk word / her word various horrors (We went back there, and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm.  They were in a pile.  A little pile of arms…)

Sword slips snail trails my slim slime body     My body births malformed bloods and gargoyle bloods, a sharpening rod for wootz steel     Steel stirs innards human innards then her cave core corpuscular iron iron erythrocytes cellular development (This cell-making process – and at times these particular intervals – are in his playing from Crescent onward)

Sword cuts crescent human cells     Sword cuts crescent human cells monastery cells and the Work of God lockpicks psalms morning lights (A damascus sword from 1691.  The writing on the blade says O fulfiller of needs, Assad Allah)

Do you feel insulted when I say you’re one of my best friends? I say.  I treated you poorly and I still consider you one of my best friends.  That sounds insulting to me.  I don’t feel insulted, says Asia.  I just get frustrated that you want to hold the same spot in my head.  My brain doesn’t work like that.  I don’t hold the same measure of value.  I don’t try to measure things like that, says Asia.