dADa dUffy __Open _ ______bC_aD_

... what .. is/what was a

-------------------
---------------------_________________
__________________

.what was a blog speeding virtual difference ahead of her jar/
         her hips

           hanche


_______________________________

what Wasis a blog? you keep asking your self

                                                         (myself asking is yourself pleading?
   what's pleading lover )

is it your body? is your body a blog the image of your face grain image of your face is
that
   your body blog? as the circus virtual becomes symphonic

                          and the poems more real


the test more virtual

learning to breath

reistting reisiting blue you

____________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________________

SCHIZOANALYSIS (RESISTING THE BOOK)

--------------------------------- shes

blue dog shes blue dog shes blue dog

shes blue dog shes blue dog

she blue dog shes blue do shes blue d

shes blue shes lue

shes blue

shes ue shes ue she's ue shes ue -

-------------------------------------- re vel a ti ion ary body

__________ is a song of tryst an parts

________________________

pint |love ___________________

___________________
before each collage stamp her head entaglioed like a space of difference melted by toe and inkling her shadow compared to the night

of missing teeth/ grief

______________________

they want her to paint love

paint her instead

her stately ~~(steady)~~ head

a geni blossom

lissome that pretty word ever pretty
close to a word standing by precipice

into the desire of her crack fall

what sense is that against the cloud

a broad mystery for making pears

______________

works in one plato Form not the other

__________________________________

performative

________________

      her page / performative/ form

what was that line of guattari's about masterpieces and none left?
      easy to speak in fragments
   pieces of broken rock

________________________

beads/ and bears

for her honey

to her tears

her table of contents

a perfect self publishing beauty

________________

dada said more about poetry

than holding on

__________________________________________________________________________

its Knot

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________

its knot easy to have a body

even

or a line of verse stanza

breaking the neck

of wounded womb

of here song

womb

___________________________________________________________________

or om

imagining meeting across

minds transforming

incarnation

to one who's already been your

yours belonged to you

___________________

__how

_______________________________________________________________________

how do i grab ahold of her papers

an put them in my body?

as if a host

transfigured

mine to hers singing

_________________________________________________________________

.. admire and

_______________________

I admire everything she does __ even when I differ ______________

a rare talent flies through the air

________________

______________ it's there that talent giving and receiving
             _________________ a poem standing on the edge of a wood
                      ________________a heart break calling it matter

_________________

this note's scribbled

this note's scribbled

across here skin her eyes her hair
                                                             those words of hers arching through the air
_____________

|||||| even though your neck's sore /it's broken
as any word hanging from a mouth
how do you write a word?
a mouth
   moults between each caring lust?
   it's virtual craning
   between her lap and heart beat
   heart beats beats heat beats between down the street

a collage cage
caught between all the feet

____________ is there a pefect being for admiration?

                               ________

_________________________________________________________

perhaps you were too .... as love is a body hidden in secret doors/clandestine nights/ grabbing switches . rocking sticks, gendered bases of love , end comma, end comma,

----------------------------------------------------------

perhaps you were too quick, too harsh, my love

reading this 'mani festo' but what body is spoken

through the darkness of light?

a sill with wind at its heart

|||||||||| Is there a mother to a text?

a father, a sister lover brother malefemale? the one who's a man is a body singing at her breast the long gone horn of its trellis.

|||||||||||||||||||||||| a , amI festo is a festival of her brightlights.

--------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------

franco beradi 's worthless manifesto which being a feeble attempt to rewrite the original Futurist manifesto reveals itself to be of No use at All so

it has been crossed thru

“ MANIFESTO OF POST-FUTURISM
1. We want to sing of the danger of love, the daily creation of a sweet energy that is never dispersed.
2. The essential elements of our poetry will be irony, tenderness and rebellion.
3. Ideology and advertising have exalted the permanent mobilisation of the productive and nervous energies of humankind towards profit and war. We want to exalt tenderness, sleep and ecstasy, the frugality of needs and the pleasure of the senses.
4. We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of autonomy. Each to her own rhythm; nobody must be constrained to march on a uniform pace. Cars have lost their allure of rarity and above all they can no longer perform the task they were conceived for: speed has slowed down. Cars are immobile like stupid slumbering tortoises in the city traffic. Only slowness is fast.
5. We want to sing of the men and the women who caress one another to know one another and the world better.
6. The poet must expend herself with warmth and prodigality to increase the power of collective intelligence and reduce the time of wage labour.
7. Beauty exists only in autonomy. No work that fails to express the intelligence of the possible can be a masterpiece. Poetry is a bridge cast over the abyss of nothingness to allow the sharing of different imaginations and to free singularities.
8. We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries… We must look behind to remember the abyss of violence and horror that military aggressiveness and nationalist ignorance is capable of conjuring up at any moment in time. We have lived in the stagnant time of religion for too long. Omnipresent and eternal speed is already behind us, in the Internet, so we can forget its syncopated rhymes and find our singular rhythm.
9. We want to ridicule the idiots who spread the discourse of war: the fanatics of competition, the fanatics of the bearded gods who incite massacres, the fanatics terrorised by the disarming femininity blossoming in all of us.
10. We demand that art turns into a life-changing force. We seek to abolish the separation between poetry and mass communication, to reclaim the power of media from the merchants and return it to the poets and the sages.
11. We will sing of the great crowds who can finally free themselves from the slavery of wage labour and through solidarity revolt against exploitation. We will sing of the infinite web of knowledge and invention, the immaterial technology that frees us from physical hardship. We will sing of the rebellious cognitariat who is in touch with her own body. We will sing to the infinity of the present and abandon the illusion of a future.
”
http://r3volutionaryb0dy.tumblr.com/post/148453871344

— Franco Berardi aka Bifo, MANIFESTO DEL DOPOFUTURISMO [manifesto of post-futurism]