Thursday, December 11, 2008

After Bhanu Kapil

There is nothing safe
In migrating or maki
ng a hole where you

Should be given birth
To a bardo a monster
Of the bardo Frapuch

ino products combu
stible and red blood
lusting which is us in

A wilderness the wild
Ocean becoming us
As we don't seem co

mpletely to cross its
Thresholds distracted
By the sentences in

Your skin space rese
mbles everything it is
Not so we become sp

ace travel in our name
A kind of occulted
Name we wouldn't wi

sh upon anyone no
Longer any land beyo
nd the sea just these

Points in real space
We dissemble heart
beats spotting sites.

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