i take my pasts each examine them each in a sepia of its own dust through which i can see only when i look away one was college natural but sometimes it stressed once my father called me a communist drug addict and generations of hands came down in the flick of a half second’s time and decades later i found myself asking exactly whose political mechanics i’d betrayed and how many of his own ancestors my father was betraying in another i slogged on through thirty years of full-time work on the gravity of nothingness my fingerprints are all over its surface but the box seems completely hollow all but the details grown over by layers of mechanical dust seen through the stone age of my imagination as on the mechanical back of someone else’s android hand and the lifetimes of memories of people i’ve loved of your lives entangled with mine so many of you freed now in the mechanics of what could be called fate but is only a weird form of temporal physics and my rage that time’s just another machine with my and everybody else’s living meat throbbing like pain momentarily held within itfrom Auto Bio (2010)
Monday, January 29, 2024
Notes for Auto Bio
Tuesday, January 2, 2024
Listen
listen to me i’ll listen to you i’ll try to listen to everyone who isn’t me if you will too so know then that we are all different joints on different fingers of the same hand and that there’s another hand as well that we have never heard of so listen listen if you speak i will listen so that both hands can speak and listen and move as two hands togetherWritten in late 2023
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