words intended to conceal their true meaning

untitled, _isa.mar


if i don't shave. that should work. wear dark tinted glasses. oversized clothing. underneath fabric and tinted plastic and proteinous fibres of hair- i can live under that. i can speak in doggerel. when people say how are you? i can respond

____dark is the night
____light is light because
____why fright in its supposed
____ceaseless delight, right?

and i'm basking in the sun because it's cold in the shadows. squinting and looking up and thinking to myself fff*ck while sighing simultaneously.

i could just learn a new language. respond to everyone in Ancient Norse. In Homeric Greek. maybe 1920's sailor slang. i can wear white and blue striped nautical tshirts with white caps. i can shave my hair down. (no no no. too Taxi Driver) best to avoid big demonstrations. small ones are ok. tattoos. cuts. evenings spent drunk on dark rum that you don't tell anyone about. just lie on the carpet in your underwear, heaving to breathe, making swimming motions.

speak in poetry. how are you?
me? how am i?

____smoke has a way doesn't it?
____like slow conversation, slow comfortable conversation.
____smoke is like a Mozart melody:
____perfectly balanced. nuanced and symetrical.
____comfortable in its own skinlessness.
____transparent. noise and smoke. incorporeal.
____bound to disappear. ok with that. smiles at you on its way out the door.
____objects have been known to gasp, to lean in towards
____the right melody. smoke has silky fingers, touches you as it passes.
____long fingers. androgynous. but entirely sexual. a whisper in your ear.
____thoroughly machinating.
____dark suited men in a cabal meeting. a coven of mute witches.
____i confess my sins to wolves.

what the eff are you talking about?
yyes. yees. yess. (perfect)

____with your kiss my life begins.
____you're spring to me. (sing it Nina. say it say it say it)

____i don't believe in empty rooms.
____shadows plotting. a Macbeth on the floor shaped like my chair. like my coffee table.
____outlines of crowns scare me.
____the air is in intrigue. my lungs give me a worried glance. yes yes. i know i know.
____the air is seducing the walls, the roof. everything is slowly crawling inwards.
____objects floating. weight is variable. time, space... liquid concepts. malleable.

____wild is the wind.
____wild is the wind.
____wild is the wind. (sing it Nina. say it say it say it)

speaking in poetry. i think that's the answer. how to hide best. thoroughly. all the ideas, none of the facts. perfect.

____in another room the tv mumbles to itself.
____ostentatious attention seeking sycophant if you ask me.
____i want a violin. i want to see with my own eyes something created.
____touch it with my fingers (if you want smoke i can be smoke)
____(or dream. let me be unreal to you. unreal is best,
____let me disappear.
____i won't stay long.
____sweet Thames, ignore this song.
____sweet dames, flow along.
____sweet dame, it's been far too long.

has anyone else seen a possibility for another life? i have playing cards. physics equations. time. space (in vector coordinates, i can describe any point in the universe. <x,y,z,t>) gravity. probabilities. statistical variance. margin of error. shuffle em out. shufflem en deal em out. let's go somewhere here there's a combination. a re-start button. at least a pause. maybe a self-destruct switch. oh that would be sweet right? boom. oops.

anyway, has anyone found it? what you say?, convert to spherical polar coordinates? yes yes. clever. partial differentiate, too many variables. consider yourself stationary and the universe is moving. yes. me in the river. the river moving. me stationary. yes. that sounds about right. what colour is the water? of course it matters! is it night?, is it dark? Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people. Where do the black trees go that drink here? it's Plath, keep up. i cannot restart the universe if i do not know what colour the universe moving around me is.
(i am listening to Arvo Part. there are no words. how can i transmute myself into Silentium?, anyone know? just my fingers?... i could live with that. i could stick them in my ear when i felt alone. loud. sad. distant. it could transport me. into space where there is no sound. where there is black because there is no light. where i could sit in darkness and it wouldn't be night. i don't understand that. i am saying too much, too much. i am disregarding my own method. shame shame. (Plath, take us home:

Cold worlds shake from the oar.
The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes.
A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand;

Stars open among the lilies.
Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens?
This is the silence of astounded souls.