Will Alexander
from "General Scatterings and Comment" [1]


An untamed exploritics where the fundament of atoms is unleashed. I call this the primordium as mantra, as unblemished scale, as tide or drone pouring as inclement meteor. This remains the scroll beyond quanta, the un-whitened list, observational in-suggestion. Thus one speculates by positive solar osmosis, by invigorating flaw which rises beyond dazed events. Of course, not pointless or inverse collapse, or erosion of one's central inferno, but as speech which I'll call rhetoric by hydroxl, by calliope which suggests unprecedented pattern.


[out of nothing]
"out of a system declaring nothing out of relevance"

aestas 2011

Poet/Aphorist, Aphorisms, Surrealist Writing, City Lights, New Directions

In the midst of higher or vertical strategy, there remains, no fumes from the blood, no particular stage from which thought is advanced by means of sonnets of darkness. I'm speaking here of extended powers evolved from interior nutation, from growth as subtle ambuletic, such energy being sigil as pensive ozonal flare. This is how the neural state advances, and spirals beyond reversive emblematics. Possibly in this state l am a ghost at the borders of Bangkok, or a spirit taking wing beyond the confines of Niger. One simply takes on a porous rhetoric, suffused with a cunning unscaleable distance, which cannot be advanced by affectation through prior memory.

A convulsive geriatrics? A nightmare mislaid in the sands? Let us examine the internal source of the Memphatic tables, the stellar source which caught fire in the Nile. I call it life as Osirian plentitude by gramme, by human form as resurrected cinder. This being the flame in the shard of glass suggested by the human form. This being the prototype which lives in the vertigo of the heavens. According to invisible Osirian canon humans are ignited by ray, by altimeter flame, by interactive sun form. Of course these traces remain perpetually assembled by nucleic tuning. A physiology which I'll call Algerian neutrino, certainly not a poisoned form, nor an outer dust from an inclement dungeon, it is the body as tenor through periodic quaking. It is like climbing a strange pollutional trellis opening up a strain of new inclement methods. Life then no longer sought as a strange or thunderous exhibit, but as a diagram which spills beyond the zodiac creating in the voice potent gusts of premonition.

The thought police have told me not to think about leopards, or engage myself with forms of mental sorcery, thereby accruing kingdoms which register as other forms beyond this life. It is felt that I'm extending other planes beyond visibility, suspecting that I think that the Sun is obscure and is absent of catalytics. True, I am prone to other Andromedan mercuries, mercuries clustered by spell, by alien saturation. Some would accuse me of making storms by optic blizzards, or forming sundials from the mists. Yet my blood works, the oceans advance, a triple sun co-lingers in my spirit. Therefore the dust that I scatter is never to demise, or to artificial current, knowing that it knows the intangible tension which scatters as divine roulette.

I've always felt subject to enigma or tirade according to in-solution by congestion. A congestion, maliciously consigned by the whims of brutish forces attempting to shower my body with sulphuric sugar, with old derivative odours. Simple cleansing cannot solve this. It is a stain engendered by forced involvement, by circumstantial rhetoric devolved beyond the point of disclosure. Simply put, it is the hellish on Earth. A prophet would peruse me as living at the juncture of devils, staring without succor into my endless and momentary personage as blankness.