Piscean Punk Poetiks From The Lake Of Fire

MOLOCH! Did you see a poor soldier lamenting? MOLOCH! Go fuck yourself with production! Don't tell me, with this-that-them theory with your pre-written history "That painted poetry song thats protest against our established aesthetic in craft." when its your institution and it dont feed me nothing but ghosts! You're in my eyes! Cant you see I know your place? You who maintain the filter that pollutes the rivers! Words weep what how when I need to signposts collide with senses visionary now carved, not evolution art mimicry of my mother/father poets birds bats babes of the abyss bricks of the pantheon together cats too and mother dingo we conspire, blood singing and tearing our clothes off consuming our self, this self also spitting out flesh of patron saints. HOLY! HOLY! HOLY! Is our visionary poetry! So go fuck yourself with your sensible traditions of work and death and hero (who is martyr you need for routine) and progressive style-theories of silence! ~ Audry

Not a day goes by without my feeling aggressive or being provoked to a fight. Commerce attacks me by forcing me to pay and the bank by forcing me to count, while laws and authority deny my desires their liberty. However it is no longer a violent explosion of rage but the steadier violence by-passing them which will sweep laws, banks and commerce away. With attractive ease as the most natural thing in the world, our common desire for autonomy will bring us together to stop paying, working, following orders, giving up what we want, growing old, feeling shame or familiarity with fear. We will act instead on the pulse of pleasure, and live in love and creativity. ~ Raoul Vaneigem Le Livre des plaisirs (1979) (Translated by John Fullerton as “The Book of Pleasures”)