a poem for today, 5 September 2012
[a letter sorted sonnet of nine sentences and its image]
In the regime of nature, as in the prison house of language, those on both sides of the law are subject to its tyranny.
Cruise me baby.
These monstrous statements do not meet the internal conditions of possibility for scientific discourse.
They rebelled.
This sex play in the archives creates new configurations of the shadows and profiles of the archival body.
I'm so attired.
One could easily argue that all historical research, writing, and even reading constitute a form of slumming.
Get in the shower.
Go tweet that, go.
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