A SERIES OF LITTLE WHITE BOOKS
When stories of strange behavior and persecution
make their way to the light of day
the common belief is that less people become the victim
When stories attain the status of conspiracy
the light of day is the dark correspondence
tinged with unacceptable fiction
When stories are buried in the dark
only the correspondence
of forever repeating ciphers remains
If there were a connection between these things out here
I would surely tell you all about it.
Until that time comes we’ll just keep lining them up
as they come along.
The rest, for all you seekers, is up to you.
That’s about the best we can do
out on Highway 61.
Great poetry moves generations and builds bridges
to places where we want to be, it’s the dream of intelligence.
Most prose can’t make it very far.
It gets used for something more productive then discarded,
packed up and left behind. A good contributor, useful and productive. Ultimately, not worth taking forward.
Thank you though.
‘Channeled and streamed’ are the disenfranchised fragments
that belong to no one and entertain everyone, for a moment,
also quick to be discarded.
Trash pop, clever but charmless, infantile scratches.
Even further down below there has to be some way back up. Some signage of indication that there are other walls and bridges,
maybe other places.
Placebos and Moirés are utilitarian,
hardly high art but the stand in,
the stunt double for serious art.
Cutting Edge is a doomed thematic
continuously replaced and outdated,
a Placebo avoids the pitfalls of replacement,
it is always considered nonreal anyway.
The narrative methods of History are themselves nomadic,
they skip across genres animating accuracy or emphatic realism,
desperate to connect with an audience eagerly anticipating revelation.
History can never render the truth of an individual,
not in a sun drenched coffee shop, a smoky downtown club
or out on the road.
A Primitive is trapped in the cerebral archive, memories of pictures
and fragments of pictures, fragments of memories of pictures.
In there, not much else appears.
A Neo Primitive grabs the fragments with both theoretical hands
and throws them down on any flat abandoned surface
knowing they won’t mean anything more than more accumulated memory,
more fragments, more pieces. Perfect symmetry.
Once there, not much else occurs.
Dramatic fiction gives the truth a solid context.
Similarities and differences of identical material
had to be accounted for.
Don’t get me started,
let’s not even talk about history.
“All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day
to find it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day
are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with
open eyes, to make it possible.”
― T.E. Lawrence, Seven Pillars of Wisdom