Wednesday, October 7, 2015

from Sonnets 555/john lowther

Sex is a problem of speech and speech is a sexual dilemma.
As much as I am bullied, I turn people into my tormentors.
That may be the only justification to oscillate wildly.
Knock fingers cross wood.
How-to is know-how.
Bubbles nucleate bubbles.
The more fear involved, the harder it is for a thought to go away.
The plan was I would leave my family when my second child was born.
The number of people who would get that sort of joke is pretty small.
And who also feel just fine about it.


The poem is a manifesto for true negation.
Social entertainment powered by the passions of fans.
However, there is no such biological substance.
I'm not talking about anger, I'm talking about rage.
Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands or genitals.
Bodies will have to pay for their excesses of language.
I'm gonna kick some guy in the balls, it's a fetish shoot.
You don't have to worry, we're not going to hurt you.
The show only stops for a minute.
I’m on the verge of vomiting now.

Note on the Text

These 555 sonnets are made with found lines and precise measures, a database and text analytic software. I crunched Shakespeare’s sonnets for word, syllable and character averages and these are my new measures. The lines’ oddities are their own, the arrangement is mine. After the text analytics and data entry, many ways of assembling are found. I hold to the turn (when I think of it) and that sonnets are poems of a certain size, but little more. Something in excess of the lines pass through, it’s that I’m chasing.

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