Ex Machina OST is playing behind him(so fuckin appropriate)

When his back goes out

a fenceline of books go up around him

                                                               as they would  because he hasnt the legs or reach to return them

to the neat shelves from where they came from around the house

their tight rows pocked  plundered   spoiled   unsightly

as they had been accrued to be

they are sentries and informants  spies  jokers  inciters   lullers    and pliant lovers                                

Everything they were acquired and meant to be

before stacked and warehoused
to Wait

How devilishly excited they were Now!                                                                                      

                                                                braying and rambling  exerting their wiles
gripped in his staid hands and widespread fingers
slipping deft slivers through his eyes into his brain and wiggling them
                                                                                                                   erotically

And every time every time

he regrets he hasnt tended  or exercised them better

but then catches himself
reminds himself

free mobile bodies do that

a womans face

HUGE

floats

             as if filling the side of a trembling dirigible

trying to interrupture him

her white chiseled teeth chatter   animated

surrounded by exquisite full lips done up in redruby lipstick

her auburn hair is sweptback

accentuating her cheekbones

her eyes are rapt and black

and fierce

                  her face drifts on its flank  from right to left across his vision

mouthing something

insisting something

                                though he cant hear

because the sheer volume of her voice distorts her words diction and syntax

feedback squeals and reverberates

squelches his hearing

                                                   the vivid colors making up her face splash psychedelically

around him on the linen floor he lays on

they puddle and ooze eclectically

electric oil on seawater

                                                                                         

she tries desperately to rouse him from his reading   but she cant breach the fence or wants to risk the razorwire

of its words

1640,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  20  5. 15

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9pIZkV2b2s

Hermann headrusHESSE and those sscissors

 

they badgered him long after he committed them to the pages he needed

first as longhand  thatched   in some instances inked shabbily  palimpsest

scribbled and reworked over and over so that he had to use a magnifying glass on to see where he was going to come down with them

                            what he decyphered may

or may not have been written

or have even existed

more than a few times they were best guesses
tapped  assuming their context in regards to the rest of the sentence or piece

if it made any sense

                                  because continuity wasnt his strong suit

I think . . . therefore I am . . . therefore I lack continuity

                                                                                                                                                 the sscissors were at work

though not that he could see

they were what he could hear   the shiver of the paper photograph or canvas being cut 

and what was being cut was headrusHESSE 

a reticular profile

portraiture

                              running   sliver   by   sliver   away from itself

                                                                                                                                                  we ignore profiles to-day

impinged by the convenience of thoughtlessly selfies

unabashed  blatant  mimicries(authentically inauthentic) of who we think we are 

and yet cant seem to help ourselves

 

profiles were once elegantly practised   and purchased                          

people dressed immaculately for them   

sat    

those profiles held intrinsic attributes

they were extensions of their personalities 

artful representation

he might be mistaken but hed lay heavy coin on it

he believed photographic portraitures and death masks were commensurately in vogue

though  likely  it seemed to him death masks gave way to mimical photographs

he couldnt help but imagine however  the fulfilling gravitas to be able to stand at arms length from ones self

and with keen introspection   admire   perhaps   what their death masks might suggest  or hold

Yes                                                                               

apparently we are our technology

Native American Indians believed photographs would rob them of their souls

what  likely  have selfies obliterated or depleted 

have they erased the semiotic representations any individual might have held 

when the images are nothing more than vessels  common products  as aluminum cans stacked on grocery shelves

then emptied  and scattered flattened or crushed for refuse piles  or tossed on urban streets and alleyways

littering the dirt sides of county roads

---   he digresses   ---

the stoic profile inspiring him was Hermann Hesses(headrusHESSE)

it was only one of scores that he had seen                      

it obviously pushed it way into his unconsciousness(consciously there

wasnt a good reason it would keep to his mind)                   

it appeared to either rise up out of the cold deep  placidly breaking the surf  or like a rendered bust of stone strenuously revealed   wrought to existence by the iron  hammer blows  and art of a sculptor

an dynamic uncommon presence                                                                                                       

making itself more rare as it began to reticulate to Hermanns left  his right
fanning out across his vision
thin cut like Polish folk art

the slivers moving off   

                                   and separate

behind them   something turbulent was trying to reveal itself

held or retained

as if behind glass

                                                                                                          and before he could make out what the spasm was

the slivers  still orbiting away  evenly spaced  began to swell in either direction

linear cells reproducing in the image and profile of which they were begotten                              

until the original image was multiplied and spanned what his eyes could hold                           

like the backs of multiple decks of playing cards

as if expertly spread across the green felt of a 21 table in Reno

Then

        they are suddenly restacked under the original profile

it nearer to him 

                         and as suddenly  spasmodically   the sshivering sound again of sscissors cutting

the sslivers  again  manifesting themselves

across his eyes

1913,  Monday,  18  5. 15

1516,  Friday,  22  5. 15