occhi caldi / hot eyes

sanguinetti tonight--somehow i think of his work as the model for the contemporary poet using language within/without the language of capitalism.

chicago tonight is without snow while the east coast is covered.

what has that to do with poetry? probably little.

i should fairly admit that my mind does not work in a straight line, which is perhaps why i find the work of delueze fascinating. sad, perhaps, but such sadness fills my work.

sometimes i feel that i need to set up shop as a thrower of quotations. here's a bit of sappho. here's akhmatova. here's lao tze. here's dante. somehow the quotations could clog the machine, just for a second, and that second might be enough for a glimpse of a human face.

occhi caldi

so many languages are being churned under.

perhaps in a reversal or as a rereading of picard, language needs to create an appreciation of silence instead of standing in place of it.

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