hostage of the groupthink 6/12/19

the groupthink of the common mind

I am a consignment to living it.

is there thought without predicated influence?

can’t understanding be of its own accord?

why is listening so referential?

I said what I said. 

you heard what you heard

yet what it means to you is so separate 

from what it means to me.

that we claim agreement is a hoax 

of our shared attention span.

even shared is in question.

all of composition plunders as a gloss.

timely polite in a give and take fashion 

but otherwise stimulus and response 

and the content defends for themselves.

I didn’t want language to be a flotation device 

to keep meaning alive.

maybe all of thought pronounced 

is murmurings above soul.

and soul is not reducible to mind-speak.

therefore happenstance is its own innocence.

and notice is a form of collateral damage 

that lives on as if it is reality based.

observation is so after-the-fact distant

that facts are only down-wind kites 

put in the sky of reverie.

I hold up a brush, 

full of emotional paint 

and let this canvass of now 

edge-wise maul me.

I call every painting by the same name

‘my projection’.

art only had one breath of life 

and it was used in the stroke of contact 

it accounted for.

now is the hereafter,  

milling of stills as cognitive-assemblage

held up as a mirror to be audience-viewed.

I wanted to be at causative 

and not be straddled 

with the posing of my impotent results.

every thing spoken 

still has the absentia of cursing in it.

language is working me

as a hostage to a retentive mind . . .