a poem for today, 5 June 2012
[a letter sorted sonnet of five sentences and its image]
Stubborn, persevering, impenetrable as stone, yet possessing the malleability that renders us unbreakable.
Men are so necessarily mad that it would be another twist of madness not to be mad.
More gruesome film clips, and more puzzled intellectuals declaring their mystification over the systematic murder of millions.
I want us to gaze each other until we desubjectivate violently.
To long for the good and feel its absence, picking apart, historicizing, drowning in the weight of phenomena, and tripping on content.
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