***************
Painting is fifty
years behind the structural
space of physicists
***************
Language is drowning
in an obsessive sea of
collaboration
***************
Semantic stuffed goats
sing the abominable
conundrum of flesh
***************
Writing is nothing
but a theoretical
misunderstanding
***************
What are we here for?
We are here to liberate
awakening flesh
***************
Poets are merchants
of literary rot . . . It’s
all advertising
***************
Since when do pictures
belong to anybody?
Collector nowhere!
***************
One sniff of birth and
the riddle of life will sing
like a drowning horse
***************
Only obsessive
repetition delivers
us from novelty
***************
The way of all truth
is an imaginary
tale from here to there
***************
The Book of Haiku Revelation 