Isthmus Time/ Puke on The Aesthetics of the New Encoded Discourse

Encoded Discourse Decoded

this poem

loosed from commitment
a storm tossed hull
rocks without captain.
ruddered, undirected.

a missive embottled
in a non-bottle,

(or the word for bottle
in a new language
which no one
but the author
speaks)

still says

S.O.S.

washed up
on a spit of land
surrounded
by polluted analyses

"postindustrial authorship"?

Industry.
The Latin word industria,
meaning “diligent activity
directed to some purpose,”
our word (first recorded in 1475)
originally meant “skill.”

Post-industry,
post-diligence,
not requiring skill.

"...thick, pliant strands of XML
are girding the wilderness
(and even tying in word processor documents)

-insert ironic gasp of delite-

to enable a new order of knowledge."

Wild- Occurring, growing,
or living in a natural state;
not domesticated, cultivated, or tamed.

We speak, therefore,
of a contained,
electronic wilderness?

A lumpen, digitized cookie dough
for which an electronic frame
(cookie cutter) will, amoeba like,
phagocytize the material
and render up... poetry?

We move farther
from the thing itself.
Bad enough words only signify,
the machinations of the brain
are able only to replicate
subtle relationships
found in nature.

Fuck machines!

Fuck machines?

Fuck machines.

Have you seen the latest porn?
Engines with artificial phalli
designed to thrust, piston-like,
to penetrate live, human, women.

"It's delightful, it's de-lovely..."