Thursday's Apps: 12.12.13


Idolatry of words, signs— idolatry,
also, of anti-cognition— an American
century subaltern, already (strangely)

lost, forgotten in daily squabbles for
survival, as money is either there or
not, freefall becomes shorthand for

normalcy. I walk through the ambient
museum of human angst, buttons
pressed, resources tapped but not

drained, I stop before an idol cast in
bronze, face besmeared with grease,
and realize the guards are murdered—


If you attempt to
create something
solid from language,
all the million
harrows of your
inadequacy must
pursue you, what’s
solid is harrowing—

past your control.
As for I, you had
better sacrifice the
whole construct,
complexities & all,
as it is all evanescent,

and circuits back to
language show you
all the magic
prophecies of non-
existence you not
only fulfill, but harrow—


Among those who care about art,
and the arts— in recession times,
they recede, grow inarticulate,
theses proved incorrect, mostly
die quietly to themselves— as I
have, and my corpse lies rotting
somewhere on 23rd Street in
Center City Philly, even as I’ve
also stayed alive, refuse to recede,
out of sheer force of correct pretense,
honest bullshit, prophetic blarney—