Instantaneously and repeatedly, Blank serves a station for our senses, making possible an impression of continuance. Subject comes to be formed in much the same way. And so, Blank comes to be found thoroughly interspersed throughout Subject, forming an integral part of any act.
I tried, and each attempt was a fiasco.
I yearned, but every love of mine was wrong.
I needed, and the shame was overwhelming.
The Museum of Modern Art isn’t hungry
Each wall is perfection
Leger says hello to Picasso
Today I wished without mercy
in the bloodless nations of the mind
that a city had gone down with you
A platter of walnuts, I think.
Shanghai and the banquet is festive.
Strong Chinese brandy and “Campi!”
He gave me a spruce lap desk
for writing in bed that Christmas.
It was rubbed into fragrance with oil of almond
With a great scuffle,
the meeting adjourned.
Calm turned to storm.
She sweated, sweated and swore.
She predicted a total eclipse
as if it were replenishing shade.
Loving that man was a way of hating God:
useless, and no sense of privacy.
The fates fell, like cats tumbling
Reading? Morning.
Reading morning and a sky like the olive.
Reading the morning in sandals sifting through soot.
Love, we who ply forked tongues to speak
Note what critique
Kelp, cork, and shell