Sunday, August 27, 2006

cOLIC aPHASIA*

It is raining rain, a Scotch mist of rain raining rain. A cloud burst of rain. I am a monad, a Spinozian one-substance, a windowless portico, a Keynesian blind, a Marxist production, a signifier without a signified, an oppressive repression, a dream without a dreamscape, a colic whooping without a catch. I am a philosophical misnomer, aphasia, a Cartesian wellspring of doubt and uncertainty. It is raining.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz