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
Process
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 –
It’s 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
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