Ride the Dawn

Lush/La Chute/x creme mental isms

Writing for my life

So I changed name of lit pit to Dust’s Ride the Dawn. Tho not for long. Now it’s called Handful of Dust. Try to leave it like that for a bit.

Start new chapter Next Week. Putting ourselves on deadline. This chapter is almost fully — tread through — its threads.

A ride down to the minutiae —

JOYCE shouts out privy. X creme mentalisms. NO, I says. You x developer of beautiful noxious turd….

Is a lushness that breeds in language over by Yeats… no disagreement there.

And Maya? Yes but Maya also cuts thru it…

La Chute

Rhyme has turned into a narrative “chute” once I let it. I sponged off NC in order to find where grows the “let us.”

Find humor as a temptation?

Rabbit for Lettice.

Oh the mechanic. Once you have a mechanic, levels of language become more apparent and even where entangle in the repetitive, can ride the dawn - because grounds been planted.

Language can be used in so many ways where poetry engages with meaning if think about as embedded within itself, mechanics of time.

Cioran lives there. In terms of sacred.

Wonder what Philosophy Cioran read? Anyone know? AHHHHH Beckett’s Library….

Throaty

Since writing grabbed knee by throat, put noose over head of my Joan of Arc, to stop the world from Bleeding ——-

No - didnt stop it. Had nowhere else to go - when my hooves, found horse, tearing at things apart, like divine tangents of Hercules, OMG:

Frazer’s input on stories memories back to druids, in Grave’s, and how very thick (indeed) it got.

Frazer’s beyond controversial, he has been cast aside. I dont seem to entirely cot on to that, in terms of STORIES.

As accumulation of poetic frames. When life was tribal and lived in danger everywhere and had discovered killing to eat. The thought that their gods were sustained on our flesh was not so Creepy, but a simulation on the feast.

An acting out of its sacrificial memory...

Graves has Hercules cross dressing with Zeus and Dionysus, greek and Syrian god forms, a run through Europe, to Druids. Makes point like the others, it’s all fucking fabulously related.

Many “Santa Muerte” rituals were just that, the birth of passion plays… Christmas being acted out. That said sacrifice is in flesh of our history as real and device.

Foods for the gods… The terror and beauty of god.

Kafka the Humorist

Who did I read here — I think in notes somewhere, talking about Kafka — being a humorist. He does in some ways remind me of Fellini —

But in an another way Kafka reminds me of Clarice, she took him for a ride around the park….KISSES.

Humor embeds itself in the language, often showing up first — well in Italian movies, Cinema Paradiso, as childhood clowns.

A handful of dust….

Ask the dust…. form Fante.

Dust in the wind…. RIP