The Mechanical Element Which Razest Its Riding Crop

(and identical to this but other, or double-green'd)

firstly
Nicholas of Cusa
and then Marsilio Ficino
(consilientia)* and
then the pointed
claw-like toenail
of my right foot
bent backwards and
caught in the leather
while pointing beyond
the image of its
trialectical mysticism
to the place where the
twisted neon rope mandala
and the ever-growing-
legs-of-the-table-
in-universe say like a doctor
i'm so very sorry i did not notice
the gangrene

(chorus): of its enormous wig!

the green gang
and all the green beings
in their baize
and taxidermied
performance artists
turned coyotes
"aluminum fencing salons" (mirrored)
with their green ptolemmings
firstly and suchly
that history itself
is a tensegrity sculpture
a non-art process
of non-process
possession

possession
by the attention fetish
in the throws of the
trialectical mysticism
whereby the letter-foot-gravity
measure-of-the-speed-of-the-revealing-
of-the-truth-as-the-truth-of-whatever-as-
a-placeholder

life itself is the enactment
of the form of its own philosophy
such that its mediation as all known
is unknown as the unknowing

1. as the blonde-haired
and purple skinned one
whose catfish like mouth
draws pink powders from
boiling orange cauldrons

2. as the noseless shit-brown mask
whose green eyes are ringed in red
and whose one corner sticks ardently
in the creases of a catfish mouth

3. or three, the three that is one blue
stone fish to fill the orange cauldrons
so that no mediation exists
excepting the pale wild color
of the volcano

the flaming beast
which runs from its hole on fire
while 3 other flaming beasts
begin to float upwards ahead
and the large blue egg
which follows them slowly

slowly

in order to devour
these rising and volcanic stars
of non-poetry
non-philosophy

in the cult of attention
in the temple of fetishes
in the universe
of the table whose legs
will always grow
up up up
to the hot pink cadaver
whose lips almost speak
but whose head is stacked
with fitted and balancing
and variously material'd volumes
which do speak
they speak of volumes
and that speaking is a fetish
and each volume is a form
of attention


https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2158332141061414