The Clipped Committee
Hide Clipper. Do it well. I don't even want to call, just tug at your priest tail. Up in the mountains I am understanding the idea of jungle or perhaps more accuartelty, the American commune sought after by the rugged, the few, the marginalized. Not surpsisingly, the computer sits in the middle of it all. Glowing apples hanging from heavy round limbs. Listen to you! Get that fist up- its how things get done. The process of identity is culminating in law. I doubt without being truly honest that poetry can itself be the source of movement. Poetry must be reworked as social change. form the tired brarrage of self amused banter. Implimenting a politics unmoveable by the force of the body. The body must not exist. I get an email that says "We have reviewed your application to our program, after through consideration our commtittee feels your skill and potential is best suited for our..." I am no longer choosing my path, I am starting to shut up, not care to call, and pay attention. These things happen. I started to consider what this would mean for France? What a castle with your baths would look like from my nose in Hobbes? What do I have to wear? Should I start working out for the LSATs? Since it is we exist in a system in which the creation of identity is the creation of the system itself, i can't help but notice that poetry does not exist as poem. for a chance at a new poetics we must become lawyers, doctors, teachers. Our anarchy is from the inside. Trungpa wore a suit, a clean shave and a smile. I'm taking out the razor blades, sharpening the edges of my lapels. Everyone I am is waiting.
The Honoable NailSpace
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