New Time. Leslie Scalapino
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Название: New Time

Автор: Leslie Scalapino

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Поэзия

Серия: Wesleyan Poetry Series

isbn: 9780819572219

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ with bare feet, the snow falling, after the man clothed in black in the black sky — is the neck cut out

      in their (other’s) existence — one’s neck cut out

      blossoms blossomed. in time.

      ‘Undermining’ this, by seeing its appearance — places the individual doing so in the light of aberration (viewed by others, but also increasingly in the act of aberration by seeing (its) appearance) which may be regarded by a ‘viewer’ — as merely ‘personal’, not theoretical (which, as interpretive, assessment, is at that moment ‘authority’ itself)

      if there’s no overriding structure, “There is no character-simulacrum for it to reside in.”

      economic poverty (not being special) of them, one, is that being the physical body, per se. throughout.

      which isn’t inner.

      from the waist — so that, turned the bulb that’s oneself (thorax) — only — then — doesn’t have any existence — turned (wherever one turns)

      as conception — at waist of magnolia buds that exist in the day really

      sewing the black silk irises — not when one turned at waist

      sewing them, they have no shape literally except being that — from one’s hand (being, in the air)

      the irises only had existence in the black, before dawn, in fact

      a man doesn’t want me to become quiet again — go into ocean not weighed of before fighting — ever

      formation of that of narrowed to no form in one — of black voluptuous lip — outside — voluptuous lips that (aren’t) on black dawn, or before it when it’s black.

      There was no intention — being done — with their existing.

      not weighed before fighting which is the black, weighed, air — not the lips which have no weight — isn’t following

      if one’s not contending… so the inner isn’t contending either…?

      (at black dawn, in fact) — an ocean of black irises hanging in darkness of where one sits — so was sewing them; up, at 3:00 a.m., in silence, sewing — sew silk black irises that are that, the folds

      we don’t have words. the silk black iris (formation, later, but then — outside) of my chest/thorax lifted off one’s haunches — is not the conception of the silk black iris (though was it, in lifting off), itself

      that it’s formed first. I’d have to not want it in writing. to give up living

      if we’re going to have to do this, it can’t be done.

      stand the existence. this functions as a joke.

      in the midst of the earlier life — young — one thought (as

      resisting) of dying — because of death of frame as law.

      there’s no time to oneself is the dawn occurring — its rim

      it has no rim

      pressure so that the mind comes in to the social unit

      it isn’t done by people, there’s no time to oneself (it’s done by people only) — the night, the dawn, there

      the constructed unit being no time to oneself — standing being completely alone

      (‘standing,’ as ‘walking’)

      flowering trees float the sky — packed luminous sky of ocean (a sky that is an ocean)

      the group, not having time for oneself, opens that one floated sky

      sleep-deprived one

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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