For The Mobile Archive

Was it so strange
For the soldiers to
Encounter art a hole

In space forming between
The people and the
Multitude the people

Could have been did
They say it was strange
I can see through walls

All of a sudden I can
Finally see through this
Wall I've defended

For so long but which
Hasn't defended me
Art becomes a defense.


Checkpoints and time
Which embodies you
If they have tried

To disaggregate your
Collective experience
Of time perhaps it

Is this disaggregation
Which becomes common
A bond formed

Where we could not
Be the constant
Impossible transit

Pass that was our
Imaginary the ghost
Of those who couldn't

But had to pass through
Solid walls the loss
Of those who wouldn't.


I hear your blood
It will not be like

My blood through this
Wall it will be like

The world disappeared
And for a moment

We discovered a new
World where our blood

Should have been
A trace where those

Bodies won't be out-
lined a place where

The bombs don't
Continue to strike in

Our minds for zero
Sum games these

Softer powers of
Diffusion having no

Design so suddenly
O so suddenly

Tarrying with what
God could be instead.


But there are not
Even videos here
Which could account

For those ruins
But if there were
Videos which could

Account for those
Ruins which could
Transmit whatever

It means to be
Ruined they would
Be here they would

Be here a million
Miles from nowhere
In the desert of

Our conversation
The certain distances
Of our discourse.


Pathos we're fucked if we only love
A sound the voice makes and not
The words not what the words mean
Again turning to the darkness again

We're fucked if all we're doing
Is saying things if we're only saying
Them in the way they're supposed
To be said our love's all talk.