The Itchy Philosophy of Self-Exploitation

Is it my skin allergic, it is to you, my allergy, I inhabit my allergy w/ my skin, my skin is the allergy

Shouldn’t it be obvious that there is no “singular” self [I] in a poem or anywhere else? I think it’s rather dangerous and/or at the very least an impediment to meaning to think otherwise. No poem, and no collection, opus, or archive of “all poems” can completely define (collectively) a singular self or Self, as the very nature of Self is in constant evolution (even after death) and revolution. It can’t be pinned-down. One can only hope for underpinnings of a slice of the whole (though with the knowledge that the whole does not exist).

What is “negative capability”?

A poem is a consciousness (and a subconsciousness), not a person.

Like in Roberto Tejada’s “Mirrors For Gold”, the source of an idea is an idea (Ouroboros, which Nate Mackey scolded me for misspelling once in a poem).

GONGORA!

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So? I’m going to take your idea and exploit it.. And then I’ll exploit the new idea or what’s the idea of explore?
Like mining the mirrors for gold.

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WORDS I LIKE TODAY:
awful lifelong nearby startled elemental cloudless talky astray severed matter forge fabric sway fingers irrevocable somebody rolled blue aquatic seven eyelash girls comes powder (un)bearable fine goods repose paper manic slip vocal plucked coastal quadrant apart undress curtains whisk social sleeper also figure sibling choice monkey place ample money weather set landscape hearty index peculiar bliss aberration(s) humerate abide ghost

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