…a monument to excess and overkill.
– Dahr Jarmail
Our schools closed and protractedly hampered, our sky obscured by cinders from would-be volcanoes, while the economy remains ratcheted by numerical astigmatism that attempts to live via protracted enervation. This remains an atmosphere inoperable with bickering and graveyards. The human atmosphere currently indicted by the grammar of plague, by a nomenclature rife with is dire as calibration. As our present inner climate drains statistics proclaim themselves as crucial material integers that now exist as a cult of pathogenic erasure. These pathogens are not unlike signals spawned by inherent debacle. They leave the general mind perpetually famished amidst this sudden reign of their confusing signals. Even the mind of skeptics is embrangled and left stranded in mid-air. This remains a circumstance riotous with fatigue replenished by no known factor as prior example. This being the current vacuum we inhabit being none other than a ragged bouquet. Each individual now struggles to invigorate an internal state with riches discarded from homeless mansions.
In reoccurring scenarios insistence concludes upon principles rife with greater and greater ghostliness. As for patterns they splatter in all directions like suddenly scattered ink. Thus we gather as code a grammar of blemishes, of misbegotten heresies that attempt to configure grandeur as rejoinder to our currently orphaned heritage. Not only an apocalyptic inner script but one that continuously regards its outer kingdom as kinetic morass. This being morass only viable that via a grammar that pragmatically descends from statistical models. The maps we attempt to discern in this key remain none other than micro-sonic boulders condemned as dark proliferating symbols. This condition remains fraught by ongoing collective panic, by climatologists inhaling darkened vertigo as symbols. Therefore everything remains fraught with the ubiquitous reduction of itself. We thus perceive from ourselves an existential odor in rising from the hellish depths of misspent logistics. This being a force field instinctively condemned in the service of error. An operative mayhem where general mockery is inscribed by drafts of poisoned protein. A shocking objective substance more and more sundered by inoperable notation. So by always condensing error our daily peregrinations seem only inspired by the abstraction that is capital. As a poet, my imagination incites a voyage of lions who seem to insist on a destination hailing from mange and deficit. This has become our present mantra with its trans-functional compass frayed according to tenets issued from debility. I think of old delimited nostrums of the cosmos that suddenly fail themselves as symbols of un-preparedness and disappearance. Not only a negated assemblage of itself but a rhetoric of wonder that has been brutally and strategically negated. Since our present source of peril can no longer be assuaged by micro-lensing, by mechanically preserved eternity, there exist verbal non-sequiturs constantly hailing from the experts.
Thus there persists a brazen mechanical marquee ideological with mismanaged branding. Such confusion can never sustain its own description of itself much as solar light reveals its own deadening near its final emptying hours. As our oceans expand and contract this is where sharks apocalyptically spill into our living quarters as emaciated brilliance, as brazen and shining negation.