Dedicated to the Voice of Empyrean Epiphanies, the Queen of Spades and the Mother of Kushite Soul-Mamas, who placed the black box here after it was taken from the depths where the wreckage of the plane was found by sonar in the Indian Ocean near the ruins of the ancient submerged city.
retrieved from the wreckage / the box reveals the final seconds / the descent into panic / the end of the line of flight /true disco / the call of the empty air / the unknown diva singing out her heartache / pastoral idylls in smoking ruins / the once-green Sahara / the herdsmen’s piping to the vanished flocks / it’s all there in the black box / the pilot’s final glimpse / earth rising / the ultimate kiss of terra firma / semiotext(e)/ disco-bolo / temporary autonomous zones / islands of intensity / the siren song of the eternal black queen / spades & clubs / vistas of urban sadness seen in passing from a car window / something lost, found, and lost again forever in the early 1990’s / woe to those who hear too much in a cheap dance tune…
I am learning to put more visuals in with the poems, obsessing over dumb little details that no one but me will ever notice. Why am I doing this blog? It is definitely a need I have had for a long time – to fashion a repository for what I cherish most: poetry, images, thoughts, lines of flight [anyone out there ever read Deleuze/Guattari’s Anti Oedipus? Remember all that cool crazy stuff about smooth vs. striated space, nomadic lines of flight and adornment for speed?]
I had a philosophy professor in college who talked about creating “islands of intensity” in order to break out of the ontic dimension into the transcendental [meaning a higher dimension that reflects upon and is critical of ontic structures] and on through the window of virtuality to the nomadic realm. He was a great teacher – made it really fun and meaningful to take a philosophy class. He inspired me to go to Université de Saint Denis in Paris to sit in on one of Deleuze’s classes. It was that semiotext(e) stuff that was circulating in the late 70’s – 80’s. Fun and fascinating – but way out there. It’s still around and it is still looks to me like it is impenetrable.
I miss that wonderful philosophy professor, H. Rabbin. I still ruminate on the things he taught in his classes and I’m working on my own island of intensity here at ConnectHook.