June 8, 2025
This collection of poems is an exegetic attempt at processing a mental breakdown. Through the writings of Thomas Moynihan, JG Ballard, and William Burroughs, as well as the accelerationist project known as the CCRU (Cybernetic Culture Research Unit), I experienced an almost complete derealization. What I found generative in this breakdown was a simultaneous belief and disbelief; time was a non-existent, reality was fickle, and yet neither had been completely shattered or dispelled. I firmly believed that everything around me was an illusion, and yet clung to the rational notion that it was my experience, not the world, that was illusory. At a complete failure to properly represent in prose this experience, the illusion of the illusion, the simultaneous unreality of the real and reality of the unreal, the space between a neurotic attempt at maintaining psychical homeostasis and complete psychotic rupture, I turned to poetry. There are no particular events worth pointing to, not even the breakdown itself, as represented cleanly. This collection is a collage, fragments and scraps exploring the logic of the breakdown as applied to subjective experience and memory.
“A person still half in league with the dream world betrays it in his words and must incur its revenge.”
-Walter Benjamin
“True thoughts are those alone which do not understand themselves.”
-Theodor Adorno
1. Metempsychosis
The flower barked at it,
surging like explosions of amphetamines
against a dour vessel
and something hate or fuck-filling.
There was something in the air,
Christ-like
coming down
to her tiny wounds.
And a voice like hands
rang out
clashing and kaleidoscopic
to greet the sailor.
“I’m sorry,”
wailed the bosun
and in that months-long moment
waves of innocence usurped a boat.
There was a flash
like injections of
dye into a prepared slide
and the microscope was object.
Monsoons swirled inside
assault victims—
those with heart deficiencies—
and millions of s/o/u/ns collapsed.
Water poured
up from her
and into clamped ears
but for both to no avail.
What is a drowned ship
that meek
has begged to float?
Nothing, she says
and all there is
to go off of
is the pounding
of her soft silence
fathers and child
soldiers marching along
with teary smiles
and firm hands.
The water
which had always been drowned
felt a love
that the boat could not withhold.
2. Limpet mine
something about
insoluble dreams or
schizoid STOP. corner fears.
all’s well that well’s left was. collaged—
the last detonation
over six months ago.
and ate away or
is STOP.
like an axe in stump
or viscera.
promised was supposed
to STOP. and done after
lasting irrupture
or got rebroked
or pleading.
3. Splinters in the eye
CERTAIN MEDICAL INTRUSIONS GILDED AND HARD IS WHEN I GOT GADFLIES BUZZ A DEAD PERSON HANGED ON REALITY PRINCIPLE OVER SIX INSOLUBLE EXPLOSIONS OF METAPHYSICS AMPHETAMINES IS VISCERA.
AXE NERVE CLUSTERS AS A KIND OF COMFORT TORE A HOLE IN FRINGE UNIVERSAL ORGANELLES AS CIRCUITOUS BLEEDING.
GNAWING SORRY KEEPING SCALES DESTINED TO STOP GOETHE OPENED US TO COMPLETE SPIRITUAL PLANTIGRADE CHRIST PORN BUT LAY LOCKED COULDN’T BE.
4. Findings
1. We have studied postural positioning at ungeometric angles;
hachures on a roadmap to final crises
that Goethe found to reside in the spine—
the skull and pelvis
respectively.
2. Confusing sap stuck to God’s great pubic mound
arranging the nonsensuous head of bio-inductive derangement—
the dissolute organism hanged on the
tenuous intestinal tracts of being, no,
the reality principle,
3. and so it is not wrong to at last state:
napalm is effluvia and
there is no nucleus more destined to fallout—
complete spiritual suicide— than the plantigrade biped.
5. Sonnet
when I got
your
buzz I
didn’t
I didn’t
like
hearing
from a dead person, I
I had
I said
sorry three
times and
couldn’t be.
6. Wooden crucifix
Grief like gadflies permeating
permeating the air
all miasmic and weighty
and altogether gnawing
gnawing.
Millenia of metaphysics
put me here.
Got us here
here.
But the circuitous questioning pales
pales to your prodigal
wounds on the wall
and millennia of metaphysics
have opened
opened these
worrying wounds bleeding
bleeding out
and out
into that fleeting fringe
where grief flies forth—flies out
out of awe and arboreta
as a kind of comfort.
7. Cogitator misfire
t. t.
tt.
mmm.
n n n nneuronal load blownn n n n
o over.
the repeating ing ing ing ing s s snaps of the iliac c crest proved d
breaks ks not given n n n glum suicide lec c ctures,
all l l l l l l of which c ch brought t t t t t ttttt t twelve ap apostates to outer rr mmmmecca, m m march and m may yy y miles from
aquinas’ s s connipshit t t.
that t way y he touched d d d d us
like h heaven collapsed d d dd ddddd d ing ing under ssssssssssssssso much joy.
sssss
ssssssssssssssssssssss
wasssssssssssssssssssssssssss
sssssssssss
t.
8. Photographic poem
There is a wrought iron…
…totem
gilded and hard
that tore a hole in the
horizon line
that clouds
and sea
could not marry
but lay locked
and sapped only
lees of their promise.
There are certain medical intrusions…
…between water and sky
at the nerve clusters of
universal organelles—
balustrades filled and filled—
barring cell lysis,
ferrously…
…no longer illumining
the promise of any actual break
but now keeping scales of the schism.
Can you feel potentiality-for-being
of Being?
No.
We threw rocks into the ocean
and they sank.
9. Anaphylaxis brochure
8. Exploder out of loop through pricks, caesuras, wounder, snipped away from us in pig bristles—honest, peripheral, fearing the opening violence, systems of hate washing over us.
19. Arrange periods of numbers to schematize the heaven-evacuation routes through the sublative process; unfold the refuse drive in development seizures, far along the continental shelf of catastrophes in the outgrowth palpitations, death spasms, animal miasma.
7. Burning circuit breakers—water, quickly! The lack cathexis maintains a unique shape to swim in, out, in, out of the cosmic abandonment neurosis until the rifles crawl through the back of our godheads and flash—Plato was correct about our eyes—the god particle out of place until the crust of the federal operative is installed until its searing lightness rented gently.
134. Shut the door, please. We can hear God there failing to manumit. Others derail inwards. Odi profanum vulgus et arceo. Sniffing the tidal pools for traces of the transtemporal trauma strata that give rise to each passing form in eigengrau, spatium to container, light to eyelid, brained to death, rock to temple, trail to floor. Epicenter and rhizome said between monism there was the demiurge in hate down the winding vertebral column, the place succumbing breathed.
10. Elimination disorder
glossy green stipules waxed over me into the
ichor out and onto me in glowing fountain, flowery noose, cerebral and
hosed down my vernacular pant leg
i lapped.
our want was eye lock and
lock and longer
until i feel it breaking.
and yours broke in me and i felt that
wellspring like blooming
failures. collapsed
synapses.
i felt too many eyes and they
got in, too, asked
when the little snotnose snapped,
where I lived
and my relations
and i began to cry.
it wasn’t in the text but i heard the implicit
lines and still knew state-correct, paranoid
prefigurations—auditory hallucination, verbal apocalypses, little gun
pointed backwards—
until the warm stream was found to contain
urine.
wincing now i taped over the tachometer and
something between roped around and
fused to the screen of the latest trickling
atrocity exhibitions i saw you. like the pricks between
venereal nerves. i
asked what you were doing and felt dismal again, knowing the accelerator was now always ending, never
ended.
11. Revelation-
-The sun
shone
the lights
came
from my
forehead and
-threat
threatened to split
it I saw
lights
in the firm
-the firmament
snuffing out.
After the fall,
ing dream I saw
and us made to repent
the pent
-the present
ation;
of the pavement.
-And once all of
my folding hands unfurled
-sticky,
judged summary
exec utive func tion,
I read the sixth fourth of
the Torah
titled:
relationality and
-non sense.
12. Unsterilized mysticism
The nine natures of this excursus have thus far been scientific.
Can you feel the displeasure roll
off of the tongue, down along the spinous processes?
The glitzy seeds of the epoch’s end?
These findings have lifted us from the myelin sheath into the
Third Event, human organism as God,
as a series of chrysalis-negatives gleaned in
-photographs,
-the extrasensory digits of the Mother,
-what liars called linearity (temporal crises),
-the mechanical sliding insincerely spat out as biological function,
-last Tuesday’s catastrophic “consciousness” situation of which the Board has been made aware.
Bringing us closer was Maimon’s or Kennedy’s licking observation that the very structure of our emptiness was, after all, so infant.
13. Intercessor cento
I can
feel my eye breaking
whenever a happy thing
falls.
All that is solid melts
into air—nothingness
lies coiled
in the heart of being—
like a worm.
Thirteen—stopping
at this number I felt
a cruel
pleasure.
14. Developing agent
the interfacing of two machines actualizes a third machine. breath is the prefix of spirit. cover your eyes. these machines by interfacing are actualizing a third machine. this machine actualizes a fifth through the interfacing of a fourth or sixth machine derived from a given number of machines, N. stop. morality is a machine actualizing its opposite. reason is a machine actualizing its opposite. sense is a machine actualizing its opposite. the machine actualizes its opposite in unconscious process. breathe stop. N and breath are the flow of machinery to the actualizing spirit stop. a time process breathes actualizing machines stop. the only purpose of this stop machines interface stop actualize stop. stop. the only purpose of this was to stop. to find stop. that machines interface to actualize compound machines without needing to ask stop. N actualizes spirit stop.