Friday, December 5, 2014
Idiocy
The delight I
take in my
idiocy is shameful if not
guilt-inducing
which it is
not: merely a matter of
dealing with
shame: I can
stand shame more and
more and
more, it’s guilt
I can’t bear. Idiocy is
the source of
originating, generating
a point of view,
true? A price to pay: sacrificing
the idiotic to the
common sense.
Suffers in translation.
To die for.
Not common
sense
itself, I acknowledge:
how
could it be
and still be idiotic?
Potentially, maybe:
crucified
idiocy : a common sense
or two —but that
determination
is beyond me
and my control: I would
have it all become some common sense, perfectly
clear and
everyone salute
it too
The “new” and
the
“emergent”: where else its source
but in some
one or
another’s idiosyncrasy busting
out all over
like June
bugs slamming my screened-
in porch some
early summer
night. Let me in let me
inn: you lite up my night. No
one can think out
of
the box who
worries about thinking
out of the box.
The problem
is: how can
anyone outside the box
think inn?
Breaking
per-sonic barriers & distant
early warning
systems
& all that homeland security
blocking holy
terrorists
who would boomlay boomlay
be bringing down the house, yes?
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