Date: Tue, 23 Feb 1999 09:55:16 -0400 (AST) From: Stacey Maxine Armstrong <armstrsm-AT-is2.dal.ca> Subject: Re: the familiar you i slip the verve into the player on repeat and begin another round. i only have bataille's writing on general economy in bed with me...the yeasty risings of seeing my name in typographic hollowness enough to propel me to get out the pinking shears...i will not rip just yet...not intentionally....its something more (always) than brewed and brewing, not communicating movement...streams of words...running into the ocean...these silly strange strings...not even knowing...not recognising change...the interlocking matrices of subjectivity and the impossibility of stillness, stilling , instilling...only throbbing. Do you know throbbing? not the legitimate pulse of patterning seconds, the blood that punctuates me...other than brooding brew...always other othering..collapsed uniformitarianism...only me projecting not/never eclipsing..waiting for perplexed yelling scorn chatisement tired but still throbbing...i allow you to chide me and the change is typing...words doubling verbs...i am taking a small train...not realising the imminent moments of collapse the exhaustion---the introspection i deny until moments of stressed terror melodrama...rap tap tapping---tapping...the throbbing never about owning and never comparing. How might the escapable toss of turn...the wishing for nouns to become verbs...dogging and catting me but more like trucking and fucking me. toggle me whole. elixir- last and timed the notion of moving brooding can i pink and shear you writing the deadness bitter...but you familiar you still daunting strange (words) they must be words coming to realise limits...it's not endless deferral. pulling this fraudulent fraud off text word coping mechanism but can i cop a feel of you? with marching stiff starch words... you never said they would remain...not understanding lasting (last) duration...never wanting it to be more than five minute thrusts- thrusting bent- self-pleasure with another not ever present for another something slipping and slipped...not catching the craters of exchange...only claiming exchange when it could only be the mutilated body of Arnold's shy tyranian trader or the cheese of Irigaray's angels. might i show you the depths and distances of intervals of my intervals? certainly longing and projectile vomitting?...projecting intention,,,internal gut sustaining...carbohydrates spinning into sugar webs...the lasting metaphors circling boldly circling without the restless watch the spackling and speckling...always the suggesting of clinging..;.oh those so dependant verbal rumblings...could i catch and spin strangely casing adverbs...little inverse craters...an exchange of adverbs without nouning me....so when did creeping become so radiohead insidious. "this time i'm going down" What creeps with longing (lovingly)? never conning anthing geal me municate me sternation all these latin verbs buried metaphors excising metonymy not always a useful distinction but i would not have the familiar be useful... certainly not the familiar you not the diseasing disease yes fascinated by doctoring these words a cancer dressed up like a rainbow not content to embrace so close (closing) to embarass the relatives of verbs cooling world enveloping appearences particle participles and working verbs Why constitute this working place with constant creeping...wrecking response...the responsibility...pick up my duty...the next one lilting from the line... the tailor te-tailored...capering. Can you craft the limits of a caper? never with gealing CON anti gealing. silly silly i meant that i exist between affection and affectation. finally i get to be the answer to a questing question. what seperates affection from affectation? stacey
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