Language Suite, Part I
for Ron Silliman
The fecund brain flares apace.
Neurons do not believe in order,
they simply fire at will.
Chaos in meaning,
chaos is meaning.
Meaning meaning order means
an imposed fiction of control,
to herd the sheep without bo peep.
Narrative gasps and flops and dies
already a fish to be fossilized.
Pick a word, a phrase, a sentence,
rearrange at will, call that order,
call that your very own.
Pick a Pound, a Periplum, a Period.
Noman has already visited.
Everything already written
only a mine of minds to be mined
and made NEW over and over.
This has all happened before;
it will all happen again.
Tchaikovsky stole from Beethoven,
Beethoven stole from Mozart,
Mozart stole from God.
Noman owns their words.
All a matter of no fortune
and perhaps a name to come.
Even an infinity of tears
cannot dampen the brain’s cheeks.
Fling the paint and let it drip.
Coherence gone and good riddance.
Partake of what is and move on.
