Monday, October 11, 2010

Ball & Chain

Speculations on the place of labor: a ball and chain

People “will fight for their servitude as if for salvation”
       – Spinoza

It is the fault of my foot – attached to its problem
The motion away or within or beyond those bounds

The fault is in the foot – suspension before an arrow’s release
Death by 1000 touches

The fabrication of meadow:  fire makes way for flower
The weeds and grains that replenish

Until pattern and the passage of thought
A spectacle in motion – in the assemblage of ball and field

As the ball is moved forward, back, forward
It’s only money that is made

The pressure of feet – all three of them
Newton, Leibniz – those who

Game the rules I fail to grasp
Einstein’s social relation – it’s a circulation

Of patent falsity.  The exaltation of the ball as its
Market moves us

Players sway in the breezeways
To anticipate the give and go

Screens for the threshing
The powders that take me

Each value or fact – a fiction
It perishes endlessly – unless exploited

Labor divides against itself
It rearticulates force to press the rhetoric to one’s favor

While abiding application of the law
In these cubes, I do.  A credo that

Connects the dots.  I isn’t I – as it serves

One presses with the motion of body
The mind out of limbs – out of shoes

Both the early tools or late ones
The complex genesis – a collaboration in nature

To rearticulate and press
We demand the right to contradict

To turn one’s legs into machines
To constrain the hand

The ball as repository of possibility
The irrational oddity for all eyeballs

Joy makes the logic of the game
Possible – Boolean Or’s

Rowing against each officious call
Stamina limps to breathe

The limp after the contest of limbs
Stamina limps to breathe

The limp after the contest of limbs
It’s the body check I need
fire ants in a swarm

Accelerants on an adrenaline bridge –
Its a feature in the game of go that celebrates circulation

It is that which labor desires to control
Rhetoric that accelerates and burns for the quick

That secular spin
A commotion which demonstrates

The geometry of shadow boxing
And the fact that intelligence is in or with the ball

A totality or center to which one attaches everything
Labor desires to combine with or malign it

I is possessed, at least until
Use abuses use

When utility rests on laurels
Awaiting what comes or feeding

Until fact eats at fact
Use abuses as

Abuse uses its surviving use
It cohabits and brooks no pretenders

To digest what runs with or what endures
What tolerates until blind intuition meets empty thought

The commotion trademarks these distillates – it agitates
Until they hold your dreams, as solvents work their blanket majesty

As the immaterial connects and extracts thought
That's the rub -- out of feeling

One follows the vapor’s serpentine paths
Doing the right thing at the right time

Out of the glide and swoop
He who hesitates wins

Similar to the detour of music
It always returns – for:

Once you step on the tonic
You step on the tonic again

You know – let’s do something new!
It is the generic that occurs

Not a general unity
The intelligence is in the ball

Or in the body of the ball
Time to reconfigure the geometry of attention

To turn towards and notice when labor
Avoids the ball

Dear M – I signed the green card and paused
In a market where time is exchanged

At your service dear M
Under whose eyes my incapacity

Needs measure and apprise
Thus I own my own time and as such

My free lance is played there, that is
I signed the green card and entered the game

These forebears, shadows on the field
Blame and their blameless

Loiter here in the meatspace – time's abstraction
Anytime circulation attends us

Thus one works to ahead - no wrong
& ends up with dick...

Such labor figures then – such Lilliputian times
Where I publish invisibility on the causeways of

Proximate space – the scrum
Of aesthetics waits for its way

And how it waits is an ethic
In the time that is socially necessary

It awaits its mean
At each moment where the ball decides