Wipe or Weep

(1)

For Cecilia Vicuña

politics is not a discourse you can hold it is not even language but more like an insect traveling your pineal gland moving your peripheries dissolving the visible dimension of consciousness an act of migration like a scale of realities reacting to each other moving all your forces & coming alive in the impossibility to voice a tongue a migrating tongue like the apparition of an organ or the elements morphing into fire-air-water-ether and earth your tongue is still moving in the absence of a desert grain like the filament stroking all your erotism

negative spaces open the threadlike a cancelled monumentyour nomadic insecttouches this corpsewhat is a body but a drifta drift that has to be voiced

(2)

as i write and think in the lead coming out of my pen over the surface always possible always impossible of this blank paper i think we can perpetually become &there is no debt or difference between a theoretical body a sensuous body a body that is disappearing an illiterate body a precarious body a technocrat’s body the body of a dead animal on the highway a disillusioned body in crises the body that can always be readjusted can always be refuted the body that cries the forgotten body of someone else’s the body of water that we hold is fragmented in the illusion of nation madre patria border

border is an interactive maskwhat is a body but a politics of location

(3)

let’s say the word “fragility” more than 365 times until it breaksso we can enterthe vacuumwhere the pulse of mineralstranslucent fireworms& dawnpalpitate withbecomingyou are alsothis body, this body, this bodycontemplate the word that is the rockwake up in the middleof a sentencetelluric scriptures:wash downmaterial discoursethe fracture of a frontieris the ordinaryprocess of your weepingpolitical subversion inhabitsin your handscarrying all possiblegestures come back to thisrock cavity, languagewipe or weep  the spellagitatetoturn over