“Therefore all deformed persons are extreme bold — first, as in their own defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in process of time, by a general habit.”
–Francis Bacon “Of Deformity”
1.
The pregnant emptiness.
Morning, color of shipwreck.
Without leaving the present, or the condition prior to entrance, our spine was always curled like a fetus.
2.
Ignominy, jewels of perdition strung together.
3.
The eyes are nudists. The eyes have no philosophy but they cry to be entertained.
4.
Boyhood: all lapsus linguae.
Even now I keep a mortal house with no inhabitants.
5.
Last night I cracked a window and my hands shook as they often do. The body, the dark, the raising–what? I saw how literalism and futurism are of little value when you’re crooked.
6.
The broken body is fire. Das Lebend’ge will ich preisen/Das nach Flammentod sich sehnet
Walked the neighborhood, slowly, in the way of the crippled, but I was really in the cave of phantoms–
Playing a part, spiritual body, no singular life
Bones full of warnings
7.
Routine, dismal, bored with gathering.
A cripple reads too many newspapers.
8.
Canary on the terrace filled with excess. His narrow throat of destiny.
Of deformity, knowledge is specific, enters the man like seeds.
9.
Incarnation is iconoclasm. The crooked man throws ashes.
Advances across borders.
10.
Desperately rocking like a cart loaded with coal.
That men are pre-formed is beyond dispute, but the method is unknown.
Planet of the Blind 