Sky Song by Precious Okoyomon
After n 4 – Fred
Slowly adjust to the suffering
Somewhere I read you long to dispossess yourself of yourself
emancipate oneself from oneself
In this shit again
The other day watching the sky drowning in blue as
i layed in the grass
I shouted a Dumas poem to the sky
Take up the blood from the grass, sun.
Take it up.
These people do not thirst for it.
Take up the insect children that play in
the grass, sun.
Take them away.
These people are sick of them.
Take down the long slender reeds, sun.
Cut them down.
These people cannot make flutes any longer.
Now sun, come closer to the earth!
Even closer than that.
Closer. Now, sun.
Take away the shape from the metal, sun.
They are like stone, these people.
Now make them lava.
I’d like there to be space between us and then also a crushing, a pounding.
This fullness of articulation. I mean no but yes
Motherfuckers always asking too many questions?
dispossession of that individuality / held in that all but already given to the unconscious,
the giving having given itself away / never was
What if it’s not about putting shit together but about how shit falls apart?
void wide up
Eating ass for breakfast
Keep getting off
get in lick it up
this brutalizing interplay of centrality and relationality decolonization
Reform fade up a dark empty room lit by only evening light
Form a window set high in a back wall
Footsteps the only sound
Don’t cry bby
Dry your pretty eyes smile at me
space time itself produced discovered reproduced
Ever since I woke up this morning, i’ve had so many horrible thoughts i thought about people
with who I agree on 99% of what they say and with whom I share 99% of their desires? I lost
count. That’s bad, and I really want to work on that, i want to work on being a better person but i
can’t do it by myself or in my head or in the interpersonal diorama
Maybe u can’t separate
It’s inside and outside and not externalizable
a war of our own device
Correlative images wash into view
We comically fall off a cliff
Come into everyday life
Now double that out into open space
the performative enactment of our
singing hosanna in the ear of anarchist bliss furiously falling into
waterfalls mysterious mischievous end
The other day laying in the green
Watching the everyday sky go from pitch to dim violet to pink it settles
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