What about the lines in leaves,
and oil slick rainbows, and numbers,
and the first thing you see when you read this:
air, dust, the white wall, everything
that is for living, and nothing
that is relevant to hot chicks?
Is there no other kind of beauty
left on earth? Because if not,
we are all hideous and hopeless.
I can find it, for myself. Even in a
-115 degree winter, even in total
anonymity, even in total isolation,
there are things so perfect they're
screaming. Even at the bottom of the sea,
in poisonous lakes, in the waste
of industry, void of space, gaseous
burning, or a hundred adobe fonts.
Especially in robots, whose varieties
are infinite, in dreams about fabric selection,
in dinosaurs, in any animal that could
be described as 'fat', like a penguin
or a pig or a whale. In drawing on my walls
this month, with crayons, and I wrote
a haiku someone sent me, right
over a nintendo poster that is
REALLY VINTAGE.
What are we going to do?
I want to be alone forever.
I'm going to Antarctica so I dont
have to think about this 'hot chicks' stuff
ever again. Im going to Antarctica
so that I will not expect communication
to occur anymore. I am going,
and I wish I could stay, because
this is further than running away
into the forest or the hills, or buying
a private island. This is the entry into
a world of permanent freezure,
where all moisture has no chance at liquidity.
I have had some things, and some beauty,
and to repeat beauty is to kill it. There was
a starry night and a silent hour and the Road,
or a rug, after weeks of sleeping on concrete.
Speaking literally, I have been homeless
and starving, and had a gift of cheesecake,
and nearly died. I have lain on top of mountains
with costumed glitter queens and all the love
that I was capable of was for everything I touched.
I have given up everything in me
for dreams, and in the end, I see that
nobody, nobody, is willing to look
beyond what is easy and see what is hard,
and make it perfect. Why do we write,
if we can see beauty before us? Find a new
way to speak, and disorder beauty
so that it can be seen for the first time;
only new beauty is really beauty at all.
This is the revolution: you will see new beauty
every hour. By any means we can, and, if necessary,
we will loose everything and die, just for
this. Listen: life is worthless, only death and birth
are worth living for. Fall as far as you can,
in the way that frightens you most,
and you will see what it means to shake
with bliss at the first sip of water in three days.
Easy methods are available, if you are willing;
try leaving your shoes on, even at night,
for six months. Then take them off and run
in the softest grass you can find.
If you are born, you have genius. It is the least
that anyone can do to commit one act of genius.
Perhaps I ask too much of humans; I have been
always guilty of godmaking. But, honestly,
poems about sex make me suicidal.
-Tay Arrow Sherman.
-- --- -- --- --
"How can I tell the difference
between sanity and insanity? You
think in a locked room there's
sanity and insanity? Anyways,
I don't know if there are any
children anymore. Maybe they
went out of fashion."
-Kathy Acker.
--- -- -- -- ---
1KRT: http://www.one38.org/
.AIM: Adopted Clownfish
Phn.: 617.983.8137
-- --- -- --- --
28 Armstrong Street #1
Jamaica Plain MA 02130
United States
--- -- -- -- ---
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