Saturday, April 30, 2005

I am thinking of a certain September: Wood pigeon Red Admiral Yellow Harvest Orange Night. You said, "I love you." Why is is that the most unoriginal thing we can say to one another is still the thing we long to hear? "I love you" is always a quotation. You did not say it first and neither did I, yet when you say it and when I say it we speak like savages who have found three words and worship them. I did worship them but now I am alone on a rock hewn out of my own body.

Caliban: You taught me language and profit on't is
I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language.

-Written on the body


A riddle ... The reader is curious first of all and convinced that
zaum means something, i.e. has some logical meaning. Hence one
can sort of catch the reader by a worm-riddle, by mystery. Women
and art have to have mystery; to say "I love" is to make a very
definite commitment, and person never wants to do that. He is covert,
he is greedy, he is a mystifer. And he seeks, instead of I - e [I love],
something equal and perhaps special - and this will be: lefanta chiol
or raz faz gaz . . . kho - bo - ro mo cho - ro and darkness and zero
and new art! Does an artist intentionally hide in the treehole of
zaum? - I don't know ...

-from Zaum

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