‘Another variation of formlessness’

“Isn’t the most profound education the one that was afforded me at my childhood elementary school, the one that divides the ink sharply between thought become Letter and drive turned into splotches and blots? How will those who begin with the darkish gray on the palish gray of computer screens manage? Without the slightest inkblot? Won’t they think that thought is just another variation of formlessness, that the intellect is just a thin additional coat of gray over the gray of drive, and drive a mere stripping of the gray of the intellect?

Everything in the world is the result of a creative and careful dosing of black as it is projected onto the formidable invariability of white. Anyone who hasn’t experienced this, and sooner rather than later, will never learn anything.”

— from the essay “Chalk and Markers” in Alain Badiou’s “Black”.

Wikipedia Poem, No. 175

Relief in this return to normalcy—that I could stop thinking about this “other world” of unknown bird sounds.

 

the middle age’s language garden
petals once because golden soil
means plant and not the altar devil’s

flowers heat pluto into third eye sight
grow sometimes invasive on winter
days in your high and like a layer

of flowers with sidearms you
wants in the sea spike a wonderful
well—for it is otherwise missing

to a true black hollyhock they can
be invasive corn is nice black
decorative heralds a middle age

the cottage of pollen with no petals
a week’s bees but the seedhead
picks off other gifts flowers an ape

and perennial dried goods
cut flowers bloomy red hot soppy
large round and marry mordant spiders