Poetry Reading by Caspar Jade Heinemann

Poem written during the Eternal Internet Brotherhood/Sisterhood

The pressure of productivity has nothing to offer

The pressure of productivity has nothing to offer is the

mantra to be repeated at leisure / Here are some

of my rose-scented wrists / the curvature of the holy grail

dispersed in hermetic space-time / throwing a little glitter

on the universe’s single atom / a plug to stop the sinking

stomach dragging the body to the floor but into the soil

of ancient disgust for ancient lies / bruised ideology

of the queer pastoral fingering the idyll / making peace

with our ticks as accumulated knowledge of someone

else’s means of reproduction outside our own inside bodies

marginal lichen sinking into the husk of the purple ocean

fantasy of unclaimable internal space for the starfish militias

holding in my palm a caterpillar the exact same value

as myself feather and rock fall at the same speed forever

across a lowland of theorisation abruptly chopped

into the nettle soup of the place behind our wisdom

teeth where diminishing language comes from and lays

to rest the very notion of a legible subject but

simply left-leaning smile and infinity loop held

together by the flesh of our teeth, ribbons, spring

dandelions, the threat of poisonous snakes still writhing

below the ontologically arrogant surface certainty

of a white bone china European subjecthood

transformation requires a worshipping of

the maggots who will build gondolas from their spit

and carry me and my endearing melodrama

to the billions of mulch afterlives that await us all

I think it’s really beautiful when people get eaten by their pets after death

our bodies can grow roses or feed really cute dogs

the mountain eats the orange pink sun

the terrestrial sphere has it all figured out

taking the world slowly and at face value

there are no dots to be connected

there is a single dot

tinny panpipe music and pagan ritual at regional conference centre

the sprawling Tempest producing the universal adamant

that the world can get better become displaced into

its own arms all forgiven a magnanimous spring

blossom warm and cosy hot chocolate from the

dandelion root of the problem banning bloodsports

taking spare risks for later banishing the soap suds

from under our eyelids letting go of the notion

that there is a single verb who can save us

I keep grasping the nettle I keep fucking it up

It keeps hurting life is beautiful fucking non-linearity

split ends multiple organism a gnostic approach

to traversing the barren planes somewhere the

nest lit by continuous fires since the spring dawn

of time reserves a place for you with mammoth

meat and vegan marshmallows and we

smile at the fire, grateful to have finally

stopped transcending our own survival

Temporally elsewhere a brittle worm

between teeth crawls into the market

to die as a delicate new delicacy

I keep leaving my head places to do my research

on the best ways to escape from quicksand

whilst my body gets eaten by saber-toothed tigers Oh well!

To grasp at the end of the spiral whirlpool drenched

soggy elegant grass stained back

Time in the time of time

I feed the animals from the palm of my hand