Disconnextion at the Heart of Lecture Time

The tortured skulls laying across the plains of Perú-

The public sphere is the place of authority

(Barbarism as authority, authority as barbarism)

Anthropology is the study of man (or so it says)

The original language is the primal feeling.

The heart that dug a ground into itself

made choices for the flowers that would grow

from the soil there (and music vivified)

We agree to dee illusion (who wouldn't,

given the time and the hour?)

A make-piece of gregarious warbling

too tight skin on the face of a father

Capitalism and art, hopelessly romantic

Why tinge entropy with belated draughts?

Simple places happily nodding the new.

About the idea of mythology -

poetic misprision of the thicke soupe of life

quandaries like buzz-buzz hee

generating more impossibilities

experimental impulses

exceed the established calculation

of indigenous indignation.

History is (mostly) the past

a realism that really

gets to what happens.

Once you learn

what's there

you can't help

but learn from it.

Grandpa plays with the aesthetic understanding of history.

like a groove in time

that shimmers and shimmers and gleams

and takes it all in time.

We, who are so drawn to daily loves

the workings of a daytime, the after-scent

of a minute, fair woman, do not

decide now, in the heat of such abysm

wakening the dark sense that wickens

the hour, the too interperturbable

flame.

            If I knew the worlds you saw today

      orbiting round placid myth,

      I don't want to make it what you would do

next. Textual sumptuous life of the senses.

What's dead in the breast erupts in words

      What's alive in the breast

                                       oh,

             bursts out in deeds.

[I know I am obsessed with using the word 'heart', but until I can say what I need to say, it shall remain. This is another lecture-note poem that is rather tortured]