The Schizo-Stroller

He was signifier surfing
When a shark approached.

Fortunately,
It wasn’t a Great White,
It was a Bakhtin shark

The firmament
Of the lower abdomen
Made public.
The shame!

Who gets to judge the better man,
If the better man doesn’t judge?
It won’t be the better man,
Because the better man’s not for judging.

It’s merely an exploitative,
Disciplinary action
From a legitimation crisis
Of those who are for judging.

Springtime.
Taking a Dionysian stroll
During Rogation.
The air is fecund.
Twice-wyrded
As a bistort.

The meshuggah
Was labelled yetzer hara
By the gimel’s gavel.
The judge’s camel
Carried the remainder.
The meshuggah
Had nothing left to lose
But to call out
The ludicrous
Rejoinder.

Thinking ‘pon
The contradiction
Of victim blaming people
For the abuse they receive
Whilst simultaneously judging them
For answering back

Seemed to trigger phantasms,
A blinding glare,
Maggie Smith meme dick pics,
Of virtue signalling
Utilitarianly happy
Poster couples for fascism,
Their eudamonia
A just consequence
Of their normative
Lowest Common denominator
Passive observance
To the means of production.
Like symbolically castrated angels,
Lacking in genitalia.

Affective labour
For an immaculate conception
Of a literal Genesis.
A reified Jesus.

As their shadow receded
And they thought they were out of the glare
Of their own penal panopticon machine
They set about arguing like everyone else.

When the sirens
Treat language
Like Creationists
Treat Genesis

Should the ties
That strap you
To the mast
Come loose

It is useful to have an or

Demiurge
Demi urge
Partial projection
Partial reflection
Partial objection
Partial object
Negative K
Frustration
Aversion
Block
Obstacle
Adversary
Satan
Other

Demiurge
Traumatic cycle
Beyond the pleasure principle
Repetition
Can’t you hear them screaming. Underneath the pavement they are still screaming
Beneath the street the beach
The beach beneath the beach
Under the sea
Drexciya
Alien nation

O little Panopticon town of Bethlehem
Where Charity stands watching
And faith holds wide the door
Like Maggie Smith says about a penis
It’s a perfectly fine thing for one to have
But wave it in my face and we have a problem.
Or, otherwise, as Mudhoney sang
They say you got it
I’ll say you got it
You got it
You got it good
You got it
You can keep it
That’s right
I don’t want it
You give it away like free samples
But I don’t want what anyone can have
You got it
Yeah, you got it
So what?
Keep it outta my face.
And so finally, as Larry Grayson said on Family Fortunes,
Shut that door!
Were you born in a barn?
We have our own household wealth
We have our own Lares
And like 5,000 years of David Graeber’s Debt
Since the time of Gilgamesh
We can’t afford the emotional fee
Of expected discipline and renunciation
To an illegitimate authoritarian concept of Other in crisis
A judgmental focus so antipathetic to good attachment
That one can never be good enough
For the illegitmitate sin of merely being fallible
That it’s more like a Gargamel.
LIke a Karpman Drama
A Leviticus denial of Greek tragedy
You try to oust me like Azazel
And attack and judge us
For saying no to your rescuing.
It has already damaged the earth of the mother of my children
And so this household’s law of this father
Won’t let it damage my progeny
Unlike a bitter pill
It’s not ironic, it’s symbolic
We please Demeter
But we never metaphor!

Whilst Pythagoras expounded
From behind his screen
On mathematical concepts
To his hairless hairshirt disciples.
The wry Baldrick Roll expounded
On lewds qua lewds
As his stoned disciples chanted
“Quick! send nudes!