SUCH MIRACLES
after Karl Marx’s Das Kapital
love
at first sight
it would transform: a new swindle
wants, of some human sort
or another order of, satisfy
these wants
— they spring from
the stomach or from fancy
embodies itself into diamonds
(the intrinsic physical properties)
exchanges something accidental
transferred to another
proceeds pari passu (inseparably
connected) embracing
a relation is, in its very nature, insatiable
may be looked at from two points:
1) of animals, individually weak and heedless of the fatal results
2) believes that there are no monsters
and therefore, their love
little more than mere fiction
a substance without being
a thing of air reflected
only in the deeper-lying || antagonism « » magnitude || time changes
brings forth living offspring, or at the least
enlarges and multiplies desires
are in faith and in truth happy and people easier
under virgin soil (flax, grass and clover)
which little by little brings about death
rouse them from their death-sleep, change them, Death
always separate and distinct corpses of machine tools, Death
(only as a saint among the potters and other candidates)
Death, put an end to their suffering, their widespread bodily suffering — the crack of the whip
an instrument of compulsion
death and torture, a physical and mental degradation
death turning the looms on our own young women
death to the out-cry duly bore before the coroner
death: it calls to the boundless a new boundary
death extols a glittering incarnation from its visible figure
death indeed creates something totally different, but not to discover something useful
(as any other useful thing)
two things to be measured, two commodities closely equal
— we are neither, here concerned
put out of sight definite masses congealed. the sugar of the earth’s surface will serve as a bondage brought about by the products of eyes and ears a magic, incompatible mentality of private persons, the very same bourgeois bowels of savages constantly hunted down for their own enrichment, reduced to a surplus of objective qualities follows that: less is the less is the less it is nothing unless it is capable of satisfying a want, itself
to lay golden eggs, however badly they may smell
people have been aroused
by their passions, pulled
by the hair
(the debasing of something that existed
with love)
have been disheartened by such miracles
they are, in truth, consumed
one fine morning
unable to move on
Angelo Colavita
Angelo Colavita lives and writes in Philadelphia, where he serves as Associate Editor of Occulum Journal. He is the author of two chapbooks of poetry, Flowersonnets (Empty Set Press 2018) and Heroines (Empty Set Press 2017), with work appearing or forthcoming in Pigeon: A Radical Animal Reader, vol. 2 (Sybil Press), Metatron, Dream Pop Journal, Yes Poetry, South Broadway Ghost Society, A Witch's Craft, Breadcrumbs, Luna Luna Magazine, Be About It, Apiary Magazine, and elsewhere online and in print. For more info, visit angelocolavita.com and follow him on Twitter @angeloremipsum or on Instagram @angelocolavita