*1 Give me the fruit of innocence – whilst I breathe, I gaze at myself in the mirror’s entirety – if indeed it has been catalogued in the scientific archives of ethnic groups. They say no, as if they did not understand that evidence does not keep in its registries menus of ephemeral sensations. The nobility catalogued in the West does not recognize innocence as a sensible and visible value. Let us consider its wonders – since innocence is an immaterial asset of little worth – what they add to the subtraction of their nature as cheap magicians ; the dull language of pretence; the immoderate plundering of blood traded in the commerce of values added to the gluttony of misery; (the absence of a Book is telling) pacts & regime pacts for a unifying perspective, perhaps the bellicose side of terror, of those inept at assessing innocence. Investing in the feast of ignorance, they peddle market-stall gods, tribunes of accusations...
201 A mouse listens to a scops owl’s cry. By day a dog with nothing else to do listens to a calf lowing. I listen to Uighurs talking. While coming from far away, far away, from that unbounded place on the western shore of Qinghai Lake, meaning having vanished, only the sounds remain. I listen to ethnic Koreans’ Chinese. I listen to English. I listen to British English and Californian English respectively. In the state where meaning is nullified only the sacredness of sounds remains. Meanings, interpretations, truths that are this planet’s catastrophes, you’ve worked hard for thousands of years. Now be off with you. Farewell. I listen to your words as the call of a goose by night, only as the fossils of sounds as a snail or a butterfly listens to my words. Meaningless consonants and vowels ! Reality in the origin, sounds ! (from “Untitled Poems”) I Will Sing I will sing. When I suffer pain I wi...