Field theory of the senses. autotheory: noumenology of psychosis, chronesthesia as pre-diagnostic association prose, poetry

All hearts – animal and human synchronise twice a day – this causes the globe to revolve pumping curved longitude along how we use tools and build how the arc was traced out It makes day turn to night holds… Continue reading
The blue glass bottlesflipped open for cup, for lip, for easy blue,clinking just The green lined grid/ graph paper /floor design/ storyboarded/ by instrument/makers … Continue reading
Mer mori “redour til treasury” raise on the head death herding herald of soundhorn logicked wail steps on these weaveyards, as beholden-trapeze, growing wheat of indigestible soil, carcass and shit: feed for a military of birds flocking to a maison… Continue reading
in homage to js harry Umwelt of responses and in the substrates below a silt of muted action. There are inaudible gasps bouncing in echo chambers from delicate atria to delicate atria in a soundproof dugout which pre-empts any sour… Continue reading
Esto no es una poemaSolamente lineasQuebradas de prosa yVerso por parafo Continue reading
Long ungainly words might be used but not yet So I’m ok in myself once I’ve achieved reasonableness I start thinking about my behaviour Around others What would I prefer to be in that Context? I don’t want to be… Continue reading
Drunken mermaidwoman of wave and spumeyour wet hipslung with kelp your salt eyes stung red withmonstrous nude wantgaze at my noise for face your belly curved like a bowarms sleeved withprimordial sandstorso with the consistency of blind clay I cannot… Continue reading
A cough then retch and hack chain axe ache catched wind up teleplasm small clockwork rings jangle squeak creak… Continue reading
As beforeI’m in the is-ness businessIs always givesEven when it slursAnd slanders Is is a landThat existsCarved byMoving gerrymandersIt, that is, isIs an itIsn’t it? Is is no objectBut if is isThenIs gives isAn object that gives Itself and if… Continue reading
It isn’t the first time We all wait as the clock ticks away I’m here with heart at 130 bpm Dusty sweat The commonality of heaves Sighs tears blankets Her in the red parka We think she miscarried My friend… Continue reading