It's been so long since I've touched you.

Today is day one at week three of Naropa's SWP. The theme of the week:


Kulchur Connections and Beyond

What forces the feeling of an event? The loop occurs-- an index of injury--its locus in gestural form. How can I say this? I'm thinking of Amber DiPietra's thoughts on sentences: How sentences are binding in terms of a system's great churning... the ways in which subject/verb/object can create nervous system entanglement. I want to create a syntax for injury. A language that returns to the invisible space of the pocket. Lint: the viscera of a pouch. Things forgotten/discarded, perhaps even repressed. Today I wrote about animal sacrifice in my notebook. This is a site. In ancient Rome predictions of future events were sometimes based on the examination of the entrails of a sacrificial animal. Perhaps this is an attempt at discovering the mute language of things, an abrasion. The  duration of blips of memory or a loop marking something that has occurred. I suppose I'm trying to reactualize the smudge. I'm calling it "entrail notes":

I don’t know. Maybe the split part of an event demands the errata of gestures in which of the whole of the past is there in the present—in protective shadow—branching mycelium fibers reaching to actualize itself in/through body. I’m a goat. An even-toed animal, meditative, hoofed. How to correlate the pitch of gut and brain where time actualizes itself in/through the body. As seen in a goat’s four stomachs, I felt I had to remind myself that chewing and the lyric could be actualized through the page—an event like chewing the cud. The thing that returns to touch the surfaces of, the place where everything touches itself all at once: the page.