REGURGITALITES
Galerie Nicolas Robert, Montreal
Bodies
Each within the whole of us
Are not individual things
We are made of the same stuff
The earth again ghosted
Systematize it if you will
An ambivalent gag
Dismisses your historical cycle
The natural break down
The so-called order
We pile up
Incoherent at first
A reflux stuck behind your tongue
We pile up
To wake under that line
The gap we call ground
Our pre-emetic species
Resurfaced this time with oxides
Turning itself in
We came to expel
The last thing we dared to recognize
Your promoted truth
Your sick dualism
Clothed in disgust
Impatiently grossed out
Don't bother excavating us
We already merged
Don't come down to us
Sedimentary and problematic
See our nauseous limbs
Eclipsed and reused
Poor future tense
Kept whole but new
For those unnamable eras
You still claim to hold
Before becoming simultaneous
None of us were told how to pullulate
Anarchic zones fuck with matter
To pollute better
Are we made inside-out?
Are we buried outside-in?
In muddy pulses
What we make abject
What you can't touch
Or what can't touch you
Is not what you planned to imagine
Or image
From one stratum to another
Traces find impasses
Blind and persistent
Pronouncing hormonal decisions
As another kind of waste
Spat in tentative hues
Contours are fallible
Bodies re-member
Bodies need no selves
They are at once
Fluid burrows and aggregates
Beds of potentia
Unmastered
Transsexualizing in speculative scapes
In lieu of personhood and taxa
We offer remains
As a modest refusal
A sincere compensation
Inducing earth's bile
Weather stagnant or mobilized
We can't afford to
Disengage extinction plots
Standing apart
In glowing features
We pile up
To invent ambiguous categories
To recall thanatocoenoses
To purge a world
To inject an and after the end
