To Dream of a Warthog

By | 3 February 2024

“means that your life has been so boring and
and it needs some challenge and excitement”

& it was just a baby

The scene in Tokyo Godfathers where the trio
run through the streets trying to find the
stolen baby and hear her cry
in every baby’s cry as though they can hear
every single baby crying in Tokyo right at that moment
like Amelie counting all the orgasms happening in Paris right at that moment
& then HLB’s ‘Children are the Orgasm of the World’
& then the psychic reading three weeks ago
said babies are a thing of the near future
because babies
are always about the future
they manipulate Time
so that it dilates
into the present
much like the inaccurately named
Science Fiction

I like how science and fantasy are shelved together
( pitted dates
/ enemies to lovers )

Shelving and receiving are both bookseller terms
which you can take how you like
like gender, who shares its root with
genre, general, generic
: a kind—
a sort—
family, nation—
birth, born, produced—

baby’s bottom brain
suckling at this year’s pale damp rabbit
my pinecone creaming sky milk
into the Γαλαξίας κύκλος (look up)
minty fresh start
sleeping in fresh French linen freshly vomited on by

I am learning how to
to summer’s rich dark bleat

“The artist’s greatest difficulty is to make it stand
up on its own”
(What Is Philosophy?)

parent to child—

At age three I could not
so fourteen years of
σώμα/soma hand stick
into balletic aesthetic
which is to say
apart from the global symptomatic
being unable to stand
taught me obstacles

Earliest memory
bars of crib
a feeling of television static
warping dimension

ESP sings in C sharp
hypnotising her growing turtle
who says AH when I sing LA
(& is secretly
an Ancient Punk)

Niece screams FULL BA
at the bursting pale
sister-in-law, I, she
all yell chant
at the night sky body
that rhymes with bah-LOON

May she never unlearn
what she was born with

What more is there to tell
than what lies between action
& not-action?

Those who play devil’s advocate
have never met the Devil

The noon bell rings
& then does not

The nowness of a nipple
The secretion of asleep

& the future only tells
what you listen to

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