a matter of degree /of unfast night/

experience and language as reciprocal … recognizing
to a matter of degree /of unfast night/

experience awakened: invent and receive … performance /recovered/ that recognizes multiple matters of degrees, an inclusive inventing, embracing also its emptiness–a matter and a transparency, slowly roiling … not /only/ language in the service of experience, experience and discourse timidly asleep together–an alchemy of experience into language, act of descriptive translation … capturing the present concludes it into an idea of the past, a convention of history … language supplying imagination limits the invented experience of language–or rather experience awakened to language … it sweeps itself unawares into a discourse of the clearly immortal even if unfamiliar … rather an unfast, a slow detached feast pausing for stretches into the quick of perception and collapsing the hierarchy of tenses … rather what Robin Blaser, writing of Jack Spicer, says “involves a reversal of language into experience, which is not a dialexis between ourselves or a discourse true only to itself, but a broken and reforming language which composes a ‘real’” … language as experience, which starts the recovery of lost perception … its illegibility expands the instant, shatters it into a plural feasible, breaks the poverty of camps (imagination, personality) troubled by experience and language loosened to blur into one another or self/self/other easily slipping into one another (yet these also being discrete and being both and none, does not have to be one … not only which metaphor one values more) to publicly intimate a truce acknowledging their violent and painful origin, proclaiming the emptiness of origins, the legible futility of the original … Leslie Scalapino’s recovery of a public realm in which convention is not transparent but which consists of bodies in motion shaping speech, speech as bodies in motion; a public world recognized as phenomenological, and just as void of inherent meaning and existence as any other category (Nagarjuna) … not to infuse nominal or conventional categories or actions or linguistic phenomena with negative value, or reflexion with nihilism … already the gesture of bringing the recognition of the emptiness of the nominal or conventional into being is subject to this acknowledgment, soon misremembers/dismembers itself … breaks /in order to/ re-form then to break again in a different place … the murder of one shape suggests a plagiarized and embryonic occasion, unknowing and unraveling redemption … night suspended, a puzzle prevails … a shadow of its message when public desire resembles errant center leveling the several times … intended encounters with ragged witnesses in the town square /merely/ dormant … so to implant a gifted twilight with otherwise in a placed/displaced intervention has a result? … this would imitate the orderly passion of the crowd, in which memory regularly survives in the abstract as linked motive … perspective breathes, and is always around the corner from the calm structure of night, to which entrance is suspended … /real/ events glide and morph /and/ here one finds the spell of the lingering particular, a deceptively calm place, /vividly/ remembered into subtle variations, memory’s animation in action … dissolving each particular lucidity into a palpable mist into which the syllable bird flies, sometimes (timidly) approaching commerce between branches of a contingent genealogy … outside ourselves isn’t what we feel it to be … the /moment/ isn’t fragile, the moment isn’t … neither is there a world exterior to life clear of consciousness, though we might invent it … the conventional doesn’t not exist … it awakens to us … we as other to a public discourse that holds meaning and historicizes it to partake of its solidified identity? … rather historicize endlessly and with pregnant understanding of /each/ history … we as other to ourselves, to a language creating rebel, an encountering something, a something encountering something else /outside/ in the public or outside a group, however amorphously spoken of … there is no end to other, yet internalized, it’s finite? … travel a way to conceive words mattering and moving, pushing through language to experience … the infancy of syntax ransomed and scrapped, saved and frayed … along tracks no truer than the words that would fix them, lovelorn for a defiant sculpting of rails … odd thinking of the vehicle of awakened experience getting there … arriving, it enters its polar realm and is immobilized, becoming compost, matters of degree, for roots in a more temperate zone … believing that one thinks deeply, the depth composed of the layering of what is taken for granted as the “real” in private as well as in public … muscles/synapses of private/public bodies shape activity (community) and discourse … the “composition of the real” takes place on the surface of what is nominally interior or exterior … acknowledgment /of depth’s conventionality/ laced with despair is hierarchical, nostalgic for ideal states and measured self … virginity was never like this … but anyway, one doesn’t mind saying that one “loves the night” while sensing the impertinence of the history of darkness

2 responses to “a matter of degree /of unfast night/

  1. Nice poetry rant, recursive and liminal at the same time. Particularly liked the reference to Spicer (vis a vis Blaser)


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