Monday, May 28, 2007

Dince Dunek Called

Dince Dunek the dentable dork called.
A moan poet
whose work no one will riddle

until the global brain brings
to its chamber of gas
poetics' cold bloodied carcass

attended to by a top-weight team
of sermon-faced sophists
conversing deep in a language
abstruse and beyond understanding

in a swamp of post-avant thought
addressing webs of hypotheses
resting on the basis of what lies
beyond, in a moment unknown
or reached, but connected to now
by a bridge of wisdom conceived
erect, with solid reflexive ideas
and the full support of conjecture
believed to be facts
waiting to be found

once XY and Z turns
to AB and C

when the ustopp-
able force of truth turns
reason out on its ear and wel-
comes in Derrida, Baudrillard
Krestiva, Barthes and the Sy-
mphonic absence

usurping 1
2 and 3 into a possible 6, that
may be a 4 or nine, depending
on how the color of tomorrow's
noon strikes the sound
of yesterday's light


where onlookers standing
in swamps of complexity
ponder on unbelief, and why
the human condition cannot
bend time to its will
with knowledge philosophers
make up in time spent farming
and fishing the mind for proof
of being existentially  moved
to reason the faith of beauty.

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