Abdicate. Grow backwards.
Let the flowers retract into their buds, the buds into the stalk and the stalk into the hemispheres of the seed.
Let the circle be unbroken: form a feedback loop until the brain roars with howlround in its cage.
Focus. Prune every Y until there’s nothing but a pollarded knot of pure intention.
Trade nuance for the on or off of a machine.
Don’t give anything away.
Without a hoard, there can be no power. Let your waters build and build behind this new dam.
Zero in like the ouroboros.
Curl. Coil. Clutch. Constrict. Consume.
*
Note: this is not a revision but an extended commentary on my poem, “Fist.”
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- How to wake up
- How to eat
- How to walk
- How to listen
- How to wait
- How to breathe
- How to find things
- Manual: How to make videopoems, courtesy of Swoon
- How to lose
- How to dance
- How to procreate
- How to play
- How to listen: the movie
- How to mourn
- How to calculate
- How to grow up
- How to spit
- How to burn
- How to mourn, Belgian-style
- How to make a fist
- How to make a face
- How to sacrifice
- How to take notes
- How to talk
- How to dig
- How to sleep
- How to cast a shadow
- How to teem
- How to fit in
- How to sit
- How to panic
- How to exist
- How to drive
- How to question authority
- How to cook
- How to find things (videopoem)
- How to distress furniture
- How to meditate
- How to be a poet