Tuesday, December 29, 2020

some final words on conscious consciousness

unconsciously dabbed paintings under the dog bowl
i am consciously imitating you but
i have no idea what consciously means anymore
or even to what effect consciously does
i'm seriously ex-machina vincent van gogh
laid out consciously unconsciously
beneath the starry vault of heaven
action figure under dog bowl rotunda
ear plastered on dabbed in double dog
bowl universe imitation

creamy paintings of data's mother
live in hawaii neat to hula
creamy hula paintings live
near volcanos and volcano observatories
where the dog bowl of lava
is laid open the great and severed ear

consciously i wander 
feathered and dancing
to the knowledge of our complete failure
of understanding the arrangement
of trying to arrange

alongside the ancient lava tubes
i imagine these processions long after
which are slow processions through
the lava tubes they are not incalculable

but really moreover
like polynesian versions
of new orleans funeral dirges
for consciousness

feathered top hats
and grass skirts
and failed understanding 

in these funereal fantasies
is the last kamehameha
but neither man nor woman
neither alive nor dead

consciousness is a secret object
of mana

a powerful and poison object
of glory
which is also just sort of annoying
because in minimal shifts
it works rather well
for different things
like fiction or dogbowls

consciousness is a secret object
of mana \ a feathered yophalloni
it's a tiki monster with a racheting
diamond toothed mobius mouth

according to ksanfomaliti of venus
certain conscious objects resemble 
a disk a black flapjack and a scorpion 
which emerge fluctuate and disappear
under extreme duress 

all these dabbed things
that consciously has 
"hover sofano" idea of what
consciousness means anymore
it certainly isn't the rational
hegel-hula-vincent green data rimbaud
-mae west
or the spherical funeral jazz
of dabbed in star jungles

in my painted fantasies
the death of consciousness
is polynesian

and since consciousness
was never conscious
the whole dirge-like
happy romance
when it turned up beat
was insane

it was a feathered tiki
with bloody snapping 
steel teeth its was jane fonda
playing vincent van dogbowl
in outerspace

and laughter
casting some syllables
to the clowns
who were all kids

in a creamy painting
of the lava procession

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.