"he who pushes the game away, has already entered into the game"
   --blanchot.

i have no senses
i've dissembled extension
i have no need to mythically
hawk a plagiarized piece
of IP for a marginalized audience
in a bazaar of organic defeatism
and economic downturn fixed lightning makes of me
a specious shimmer, and vacuous advertisements
stammer, 'the deathless campaign', from all marquee portals stream
multimedia globalized hallucination, pixelated dream
paranoia has stocks going through
the roof. i have no senses, no grit
solo amor intelectualis and no
need of anything to sense. how to tell what
will not yell; i, i. i am not i.
i am not, because i am. to speak would
invoke the void, to forget
one word is to intuitively grasp the wonderful tragedy that all
the words could be lost.
and as there is no
credible theory about the origin and substance
of our speech games for me, to assent would be
to implicate 'no' at some level, subversively, would
entail the possibility of not being, who is also a
neighbor of being, deaf nudist in the glass house.

and i don't believe in the superstitious 'possibilities', it's quantum psychology.