The final product is done! It’s going to be available on the 26th. Find me at the Keep This Bag Away From Children table at the Brooklyn Zine Fest. Bonus apathetic dog modeling the cover. Was going to make a pun about telling all you “bitches” to come and get it, but decided I should take a nap instead.
Read the digital version now: http://projectf-l-e-x.tumblr.com/
(LOVE, GOOD DEMON, and BANDWIDTH enter)
And we gather, right when I was ready to shoot it up into my headspace and leave for just a bit and hope to die cause im washed-up-and-out and wiped all over the sidewalk and punctuating my career with it. I’m ready to start puking on people and sing on the A train with the Mariachi twins. I’m ready to solidify conceptual sex, and ditch the real shit. I’m ready to start stamping the life out of LOVE.
(LOVE stands up, frightened)
But machines only need a good dusting.
I’m not what you think. I got human quality in my electricity. I am wider than a fist. I can take it all in and spit it out. I am the Ayn of connection. People used to write to angels and gods. Now they write poetry to me and about me and for me.
I’m trying to be polite. I’m trying to win the world over. I’m trying to de-saturate. I can bring it back. It might take violence again.
I was in a modern play once. I was directed by a mind. I was sexy and destroyed the influence of Futurism’s cock. William Carlos Williams had his affair with my genitals. I’m not as strong now. I’m not as tight.
BANDWIDTH (addressing GOOD DEMON):
She speaks as if it’s important. Now you contend with my acceleration. Can you imagine the reincarnation of that mess under my influence?
But I thought you said you were human?
Not human. Not a machine. I accelerate and push and put fourth constant abortions of ideas. Good ideas get washed in the sea of pixels, and we are better human beings for it.
I’m ready to pin you down now. I’m ready to lace up those boxing gloves.
(laces up gloves)
Boxing’s not like it used to be. It’s more beautiful, but less engaging. You need to carry more sympathy to be a hyper-man. There is no more equivalent. Anonymity has striped us of our sex. There can be no Colossus in your corner.
I can spend a life as a man or a woman, or spend a life as a woman using a man, or spend a life as a man using a woman, or spend someone else’s life as a man or a woman using a man or a woman. Without a profile picture, I am incapable of good and evil.
Even our philosophy can bounce and change. I can go from being all of it to nothing at all in no time.
But what is left to conquer? Is there anything for you to grasp?
The only thing to grasp is me. Hold on! I can explode. I am shooting shit into my network and it’s working and I feel like I will never die. You will get left behind without it. I don’t fucking care about you anyway. You can never really know what life is without me now. I am the new Christ your mother has been on about the last 60000 years. I am the summation of consciousness, and I am an avid user and I———will———shoot you———-to———the——-motherfucking———-atmosphere!
LOVE (Passively): Yes, dear.
You-can’t-see see see all the shit you need to really. Your head is like a scope without an eye to see through it. You’ve got music and minimal shit and sex organs flying about, but the seed is missing. It makes every damn character mad, and it ruins the loss of virginity.
Don’t bring virginity into this conversation. There is a mechanism to get rid of that nonsensical word anyway.
Virginity is something to continually strive to loose in every sense. When nothing is new, nothing is experienced, and nothing is shared.
LOVE: You just want to fuck everything?
If experience is euphoric, then I guess you could call it an orgasm. Virginity is no longer exclusive to sexual conquest.
I can accelerate experience. I was bred to shed your clothes faster than real air.
LOVE (taking off gloves):
But when you cum fast, the other party misses the mark.
I reduce the other party. There is no other anymore. Only digital space between communication.
I’m no Luddite, but we all need to catch up. Our senses are dizzy. Thank fuck you weren’t around when the first star exploded.
I just want someone to turn me on again. It’s been since June.
You can eat and shit and piss. That should be enough to arouse you.
Turn yourself on. (slaps LOVE on the ass)
Should I start a post about this? Should I rally up-votes and decry and defame and make a scene? I was in a modern play once. I was once in a modern play. They let me touch rivers and I even got to worship bridges.
I am the new bridge. You have no choice but to worship me. Without me, there is no infrastructure. Your narratives are outdated. You can’t eat without me. Hospitals would melt down into junkie sweatpants. The network is our generation’s Sun. You have to live with me. And I make picnics in the rain. I butter my toast. I chew and swallow. I am trying my best.
But you can’t reach that level. Gods are being forced to worship the senseless consciousness you are sacrificing.
You would call them gods? And why does it matter? As long as I am the one being worshiped!
Gods can’t worship from that great of distance. And you can’t stop your acceleration. You are incapable of stunting growth. You are the infinitely expanding cock. The blood keeps flowing. Consciousness can’t keep taking you in.
LOVE (turning to leave):
I didn’t really want it at all in the first place.
The only problem is you are becoming irrelevant. The more we expand, the less we need of you. Masculine and Feminine are constantly shifting. One makes the other hot, but remains cold. The next day, the other turns one on, but remains off. The cycle is getting old.
Even I can’t explain myself! I’ve only increased, because you do need me and more of me and all of me even though I am disconnected to some degree. You are only a product. The real enemy here is the other party.
I am no one’s enemy. I only produce everyone’s inner enemy to themselves. Including you!
But we are on the verge. There is a cliff ahead. Some will jump, believing you can make them fly. Others will turn back around, gather material from the last century, and build a bridge across. Progress depends on picking the fruit from the chaff. The seeds they planted are finally ripe. Forward is a great death. Forward is a black hole too deep to fill. We must turn around and refine what has grown. Only then can we build a bridge to cross and keep on moving.
Sounds are good. Sounds are always nice. Sounds of rivers make me feel invincible. I used to be modern. I was in modern plays. We can worship a bridge again.
Not that kind of bridge.
It is a kind of bridge. Not that kind.
You can’t build it without me.
Once you leap over that crevasse and see what we have to do, you will wait. You will worship us again.
I love-love-love worship. I love-love-love worship.
Put our best foot forward. Accelerate until we hit that cliff. Maybe next Tuesday. Let’s hope it’s not a bomb that creates it for us.
Yes, let us hope.
Yes, let us hope.
New Chapbook! It’s pay-what-you-want per poem, if you feel like it. If you don’t feel like it, it’s just free. The e-version is out now at the F L E X Tumblr.
The print version will be out on April 28th, featuring a nice fancy cover and reality you can feel. You can pick it up early at the Brooklyn Zine Fest on the 26th. I will be around the Keep This Bag Away From Children table.
If you find me, I will give you a physical pay-what-you-want version. If you can’t find me, there will be a link to order the thing (sadly, I don’t think anyone will print this puppy for free).
Sophia Le Fraga
Sophia Le Fraga / Waiting For Godot / iPhone
In Ohio, you can be something
You can really be something
You can be something
You can see something really
You can be something, really
You can be something, in OH
Sean Edgley has had poems at HTMLGIANT, Mason’s Road, Almost Five Quarterly, and he read with Spilt Milk for the Poetry Festival on Governor’s Island AND now he has poems at KEEP AWAY
like, right now
you haven’t read them yet
read them now, right here
Check out some poetry we put up on Keep Away. Sean’s a good guy! You should read poetry from good people.
Bend the television!
Melt the internet!
We’re gonna remold the universe.
Claim your gravity!
Bid your stars!
We’re gonna divide up the universe.
Drink what’s left!
Empty your jar!
We’re gonna feel up the universe.
Pay her a dime!
Offer her pills!
We’re gonna fuck up the universe.
Excerpt from the upcoming audio e-chapbook “I’m Trying to Save the Universe”
Listen to the first two tracks at http://austingivens.bandcamp.com/
Also, have Google translate what it can of Mario Rapisardi’s Lucifero
Inspirations, inspirations, and all that stuff. Anyone know Italian, so I don’t have to stare so long at single words? I would pry pay for a good translation.
Listen/purchase: Say It! I’m Going to Remake the Universe by Austin Givens
"Say It! I’m Going to Remake the Universe" is the prologue to the upcoming sound chapbook, I’m Trying to Save the Universe.
After Sister’s cancer wipes out the entire Universe, Brother finds himself spread into every dislocated particle in existence. His consciousness calls fourth several entities who claim that they will help him remake the universe. Plagued by self-doubt, Brother reluctantly accepts his fate, and decides to start by resurrecting Sister.
I’m Trying to Save the Universe is a group of sound poems originally published by BlazeVox. I’m re-recording them, adding more tracks to flesh out the narrative, and giving each some more heart and more soul and more noise. The final chapbook/album, which will be released in late November, will include a downloadable e-chapbook with the poems and their corresponding art pieces (like the one above) in one solid deluxe PDF package to do with as you please. Below is the overall premise of the album. Enjoy!
After all the cancer leaves Sister’s breast and spreads throughout the universe, Brother gets a chance to remake the universe with the help of Hilda Doolittle, The Monster, some MTA Bums, Lucifer, and others. Under the watchful and sexy eyes of Mother, Brother must wade through childhood memories to attempt the reconstruction, beginning with his new Sister. Doomed to fail, Brother undergoes the process of creation out of necessity, which helps him come to terms with the impossibility of creating a stable universe where Sister can remain un-cursed.
Kind of a messy post, but you’ll manage.