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Tuesday 22 April 2014

Lee Kwo

THE OPPOSITE OF FANTASY IS PAIN

Fear of mutilated femininity of witness to 
anxiety of writer without a shadow/
counteract terror of oblivions indivisible
revolt against emptiness of the spectacle 
of the Situation/Who defines allocated parts 
when constructing the ethical?/Life must hurt/
The Welfare State?/Maniacs fanatics crazies/ 
What space duration in comets path in next 
dimension has been reopened/Fatalism
stabbing holes in ript dark electric sky/ 
Hysterical joy of wreckage of pain/

Hear clock tempered pulse beats 
becoming mercurial a dilemma of ascension/
Whores of City of Pain/emotion is subversive
no longer dynamic/Not analogue but digital/
post secular thought remains enigmatic/
Dammed for their barbarism/ Speedmax/
A history of moments run at Mach velocity/ 
No mourning/no melancholy not even destiny of
eternal phillia/?The full risk of transposing the
boundaries/transgressing the Law and its limits/
We are in the territory of pure android ruin/
SKz lust and hard core drigs the protocol of
data trash /Blindly coded gestures Pizza Grils
walk Fitzroy St in camisoles and stockings/
selling the only commodity they have/

Time passes/Boy Debris waits chemical 
intervention to turn into an image of himself 
stealing codes of erasure/No love in the 
House of the Law only a helpless thinking 
of discrete linguistic moments of discontent/
He is 16 and hits the streets/Zed heads
and studded leather/here are three chords/
He can recognize as indicatively savage
shaved skull a provoked suspicious split head/ 
fence picket chain and broken bottle
hash bubbles on foil trips absurd behavior
that doesn’t give a fuk about consequences/
Invisible dimensions digitally enforced
enhanced drag factor of skin head betrayal/

The whole passing from point to
counter point from androgyny to castrati/
Called memory loss break up the linear
recall carry out the circumcision/
The aesthetics of indifference/ 
Do we remember visionary events or
Emotional discharges mutilations of
the phallicXX?/Queer solicitude?/
The beauty of love in love with itself/

What arouses the body when eyes
 shut and Effluvia becomes a haunted 
woman/Pleasure is a release from rebellion/ 
The hemispheres merge one to create the
discourse of an allegorical compulsion
to fantasize sex as bearable pain/
One lash to bring on the performance/
One lash to betray identity from dealing
with shadows/Empty repetition of modern life/ 
One lash a dead end devastation that art be
ineffective/Reviving an archaic symbol/ 
One lash to inflate the lighting of the
dimensional sequences/and submissions/
One dozen lashes that eludes scandal
of noise in suburbia/Uber Alles/

Whose extreme hellucinations cannot
haunt him enough as he no longer slept/
Insomniacal/awake to absurdity of life/ 
To negate something is just another way of
affirming horror of the body form with its
dissolution/More essential than its toxic
effectual decayed substances of shit pus
and dead jelly fish/Violence pure pleasure/

Everything is loaded with metaphor with
twisted demand/To notice and to be noticed/
the stranger is under the spotlight/
The unusual is equalized by supply
and demand for revenge/Facts break up/
Now I know what revenge tastes like/
why desperate old men call to murder
send young boys to the Frontline/
A bad conscience/Strategies of 
endurance unbalanced by a soft 
enigmatic voice/They said fuk you 
They said why not rude boy hooligans
What is the language of the unconscious?
Disappearing along fibre optics?/

She pretends to exist while sleeping/
A prison of meanings of knotted 
innuendo/Wanted for breaking 
out of the unwanted/Spurious  
How is it translated this cybernetic impulse
Hot wired and transcendental? /
The evocative text of change and constant
renewal pulls you apart/Vertical ghettos/
Stand still it will dismember you/make you
anonymous/Eradicate any obligations/
Fantasy seeks to affirm itself by
ruining meaning distinctions and
limits thresholds and hierarchies/
Disappears into its uselessness utility/
driving artist to liminal pain/

Even the imaginary scar tissue you 
secrete in the blood of yr abstract tracks 
will evade your assertion of sanity/
neither gods or masters or public decency 
without finding a way out of dated crimes/
The prophet speaks of the arrival of
Guitar Over Drive/Three chords feedback/
You distress the canvas unable to tolerate
expectations/You fill the pages of yr books
with pornography/You have been in life
but you know more about death/ 
You have fuked a thousand women 
but still dont know what desire means/
Only its avatar love three pumps and roll off/

Depersonalized killing of subjectivity/
shame that is a paradox unpredictable
attacks yr repellent disgust/
You were in the presence of the present
yr writing as testimony to invisible
dimensions/indications of injustice
A slow fertile nightmare 
surfaces we are all sociopaths
in iron shadows alienations and ideology
But accuse disjecta membra of possible
Fragments not yet advancing fast enough/
Light engulfing time /The smell of fear on yr
breath/Then it was like now only laid open
something lost in translation/Time marches on
Attend to yr apocryphal legend Dogman/
She smells him down wind and on heat/
The curtain has been pulled he struggles
thru folds/Un-folds new migrations/
Genital desire swells in darkness/
Choking on functional discharges
of gas wastes/Dragged thru ruins
of finitude erupts from hard drive/
The joy of Industrial pain/Three minute
noise/On centralized refracting routines 
of thinking/Can you endure unspeakable
things knowing only drigged daydreams/?/

Everybody keeps their appointment
with death while/forgetting to live/
Even when he out think himself when he
streams consciousness/Gnostic exile/
Erase punctuation speak in tongues tear
Open neologisms/Writing remains 
anerotic political act of random simulacra/
He embalmed by genealogy of aesthetic
Simulated archaeological effects./
You are clever even to understand
punctuation./You are clever to anticipate
which words disguise brutality and violence/
To this task of fatal abstraction add
enigmatic process of disambiguation/
You are at end of clawed tunnel the
furthest ahead/Within yr hands 


you reach a black hole of anti matter 
that spews you into rarefied air of
non-sense and arctic polarity of death/
Where the mind drifts without certainty/
Fall to ground wanting to be swallowed
Compressed by the weight of gravity
enlightens us /Crushed by servitude
of the logical/Destruction beckoned/
This elemental depth of the witnesses 
which over determines fake irrational
circus of consequences refused its history?/
Of false consciousness pushed aside by
Motherboard/Father board/Crazy bored
Absolute Icon boredom as social pathology
Boredom the ultimate mode of control
always takes the form of Fascist history/
 

2 comments:

  1. Love the weight of this. The way it pushes you under like a landslide of sound. I particularly like the use of "/" to add to the overall burden, the unforgivingness of it. And the way the "yr" acts like a bolder in the slide. Nicely done.

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  2. Freight train running over slaughtered cattle, their bones crunching hard against the metal track making splintered sounds. It is a relentless onslaught of stream of conscious segued with cut-up principles' - Lee Kwo is the bastard offspring of Joyce and Burroughs and a heavy weight in his own right.

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