Stu Hatton
art in the age of digital reproduction
though who uses anything
for its intended purpose?
a poem may be fluked?
graffiti on t-shirt / speed
of its questions
‘i like this intrusion’
(quips the milquetoast / lost
in customer service country)
‘killing with kindness’: the phrase
becomes a regular
those still bossing bones
the old way
beneath mesh
of q & a, demography, i.d. burial
how to ‘decouple’ mind, shut
off audio / dissolve?
think a shut eye = sleep?
detector vans roam
counterfeit nighttimes
&/or
wrapper-rustle in abandoned cinema
kindles warm front in Wernicke’s area
the inadequacies of everyday discourse
*
amor fati
begin anywhere
working backwards from
this low
(for example)
(no matter how dumped,
how misty
you've played it)
expect some
through-thought
will arrive
a shuttle/shifter,
e.g.:
‘let’s go somewhere
crowded, I feel
like a lot of people’
*
dropper,
drop through the city
nameless,
nearing no completion
‘nothing I would
or would not change’
in this weave/fabric
otherwise
wants a new form
formation
of what might be termed ‘ungrounded grounds’
… further heterotopias?
here we are, suffering in language
error of taking the dominant for the universal
other crossings being possible?
what’s the wild boar so
wild about, after all?
& what counts as
food, as sex, to this tribe?
where the system is vulnerable, wearing
protective gloves while sniffing fruit
corpse with limited functionality: false,
but not only false
the university a department store
fearful of positivities, of being ‘taken in’,
but and and but
as if rome might ready itself for such a fall,
reach agreement on the mourning process
it is no doubt forbidden to take
shots of these waste-grounds
miasma (persuasions, dissuasions)
‘we see no connection’ quips congressman
to network foreign correspondent
once you’re talking on this channel you
no longer know what you’re talking about
things were about to get physical, then
he hung up
have you a war name?
an instability commutes to another code-zone
Stu Hatton: poet & editor, Melbourne, deep end, random plantings, etc.
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art in the age of digital reproduction
though who uses anything
for its intended purpose?
a poem may be fluked?
graffiti on t-shirt / speed
of its questions
‘i like this intrusion’
(quips the milquetoast / lost
in customer service country)
‘killing with kindness’: the phrase
becomes a regular
those still bossing bones
the old way
beneath mesh
of q & a, demography, i.d. burial
how to ‘decouple’ mind, shut
off audio / dissolve?
think a shut eye = sleep?
detector vans roam
counterfeit nighttimes
&/or
wrapper-rustle in abandoned cinema
kindles warm front in Wernicke’s area
the inadequacies of everyday discourse
Walled by packaging. They don’t know how else to function. City at sea. Aromas of coffee and oranges, maybe – but aren’t these purely ‘for effect’? They skipped through quarantine in their white skin, talking of wealth protection schemes. Mismanagerialism of ‘Australia’. The seekers, the thrillseekers, and the marketing flacks. Bio-markers of legal tender. Send in the loans.
There seems to be no way of unwrapping this ‘gift’. They are unprepared for silence. A city far to the right of its people. Pockmarked from an early case of smallpox, perhaps. The most virulent strains lie dormant in the backyard. The search item ‘Australia’ was not found. The power tools, the robocalling, and the killswitch. Bio-markers of astral fallout. Send in the clones.
amor fati
begin anywhere
working backwards from
this low
(for example)
(no matter how dumped,
how misty
you've played it)
expect some
through-thought
will arrive
a shuttle/shifter,
e.g.:
‘let’s go somewhere
crowded, I feel
like a lot of people’
*
dropper,
drop through the city
nameless,
nearing no completion
‘nothing I would
or would not change’
in this weave/fabric
otherwise
wants a new form
formation
of what might be termed ‘ungrounded grounds’
… further heterotopias?
here we are, suffering in language
error of taking the dominant for the universal
other crossings being possible?
what’s the wild boar so
wild about, after all?
& what counts as
food, as sex, to this tribe?
where the system is vulnerable, wearing
protective gloves while sniffing fruit
corpse with limited functionality: false,
but not only false
the university a department store
fearful of positivities, of being ‘taken in’,
but and and but
as if rome might ready itself for such a fall,
reach agreement on the mourning process
it is no doubt forbidden to take
shots of these waste-grounds
miasma (persuasions, dissuasions)
‘we see no connection’ quips congressman
to network foreign correspondent
once you’re talking on this channel you
no longer know what you’re talking about
things were about to get physical, then
he hung up
have you a war name?
an instability commutes to another code-zone
Stu Hatton: poet & editor, Melbourne, deep end, random plantings, etc.
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