that squealer queerer
answerer ghoul birdfaced,
buffoon of quandaries
hides-squeezing a sphinx into dark
invisibility his ass
a conjurer of mysteries
he is equal to
a bird that eats carrion fish
fish from boats of Barbary lined with
white walls of prisons
guarding the sea from the thieves who would steal turquoise
cannon birds, noble swine and turquoise stone
are not meant to be eaten
by the laws
of the priests who pray law into sunlit air
of dead crossroads
hoodlums’ holy halakha
cynicism is not subversion. It is cynical to make the confusion of these two, the error is always intentional.
A blog is a public diary, a diary cruelly ripped open, exposed and nailed to a cedar for the passing villagers to read out loud.
Numbness and the normalcy of decadence, a decadence that is also too numb and terrified to be wildly cruel or amoral, is worse than the cruelties of war: it is the order that comes into existence after the greater cruelty has already treated the world as a slate that can be started anew, after the intensification of a violence perpetrated by lies, by a military, bureaucracies on tank-wheels and the right and careful engineering and funding.