Re: Now-- Relative

I remember you now! It was so many years ago, it took
'til now. You were the only guy I ever saw
come on the gong show and read poems. So how's it
going? Somebody, I can't remember who,
said you'd moved to Indiana and gotten heavy into some
kind of conceptual art that involved road
kill seen as emblematic of how the things we don't
know bring themselves to our attention or some
such as that.

--- Orphee <cw_duff@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
>
>
>
> Now when Jill knew she was relative she was the
> moon sliding down
> into her perspective and knew her immanent self was
> immanent. SHe knew she
> was transferable past upon the dead conceptions of
> god she held in her
> heads. And there were many as the many headed-hydra
> could would and did
> attest. She was the one who sang futility under the
> sun. As potters spoke
> back to their makers and knew.
>
> Jill had been to Cannes. With Oona and Mona. And
> Franny of course
> discourse into her inter-course . On
> scholarship-shop which paid all the
> bills. Imagine that, flapping bills paying the fare
> while the reels
> rolled. Then Rembrandt in Amsterdam. A dame she was
> when she was becoming
> painter and the paint was there for her eyes to see
> visible like goggling
> in the morning sun. Then there was the visit to
> Baruch's house. Too. That
> was very much. Very much. LAter to F's grave, then
> GD's and it was. Yes,
> then the spot where the body landed. What astrange
> place. And video was
> made as she that flying fallin' body. O. what a fall
> that was in the was
> of is and the becomings of life splitting from
> itself death. Death and
> dumb and life and wife and I speak the words to thee
> the word hoard.
> OVerboard! Men overboard and sharks flaying fish and
> nights were heard of
> the words Palestrina.
>
>
> *****
>
> Fictions of Deleuze and Guattari copyright@1999
> CLifford Duffy.
>
>
> Projected Book form publishing date Autumn 2000.
>
>

===
"Queer is by definition whatever is at odds with the
normal, the legitimate, the dominant. There is nothing
in particular to which it necessarily refers. It is an
identity without an essence." David Halperin
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