This is a poem about language
(august, hospitable egomania):
a beauteous, gloating mishap.
"Manageable utopia sought." Is
this a poem? Language is about
tautologies, an "I AM" bush. Page
gaps. The ambitious analogue.
Stage phobia, mutual agonies:
"Situation Omega! Plague!" (Bash!)
An ultimate big oesophagus, a
biasing gaol-house. Amputate
sub-human. Apologise. Agitate.
I, alphabet - I, nauseous maggot,
inestimable - oughta go up as a
gaseous, glum ape-habitation.
------
Nullity is equally capable of escaping from the allegedly authentic self,
and is somewhat likely to if the facticity and contrariety of language is
persistently overlooked or disregarded (this covers a multitude of sins,
from malapropism to passionately espoused cliche). What about writing as
graft, prosthesis of prosthesis, second nature?
- Dom
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