the whole of school
and university
was a continuous struggle against 'groups' -
cliques of student's uniform minds
and their uniform bodies,
cliques of dependent professors
and their mind's handlers
it was never the courses you attended
but the visible human decay one witnessed
at the surfaces of language
it was a sort of 'rebellious' act
to not to do 'group spirit'
of not getting sucked into what the group wanted you to do
especially after the whole country had just been liberated
from one soul one mind one country indoctrination war syndrome
from church/state oneness that had ended in total war
so I carried my books always wrapped in paper,
brown or white or covered with nice wallpaper
or wrapped in yesterday's newspaper
nor would I ever wear a watch on my arm-
not to remove myself from punctuality
but remove my life
from authorities that gamed with humans
played with their time
group animals, agents of authority
that's what groups are instituted for
and there came a point in real time
when and where I gave up
on the spectacle of advertised
parading sincerity:
a never ending falseness of language games
postured in games
of bought bodies
as if 'acting' from sincerity
or from some honest aesthetics
it was no longer
AS IF kings of the medieval ages
had succumbed
to their 'higher' handlers
but how far
how much
inhumanity
will be recovered
from the rolling waves of time
Between not so arbitrary poles fluctuates
more, sometimes less
inhumanity
for which wars
serve other purposes:
they're not
in the business of teaching
moral lessons
nor writerly essays
but an unlife
that practices its remains
within hidden language