Amit Dwibedy




                    A new place deserves               lying

                    color of morning         matches nothing.

                                   morning                  alters nothing.

                    gentleness engulfs the rain


                    a woman in love, woken out of

                    endlessly addressing

                              the other.




                    If I could break you

                    I could break a tree.







                    clings everything,



                    Seed. morning. literature. affirms.    again.




                            flower"   plodes    through

                    mouth.          in water of

                                      water           how

                                            your hands






                                            between being and

                                      (society imprisoned the jealous discourse


                    disproportioned anxiety to reproach)

                                      maddened into being,

                                      I depend on presence.


                    "distress"                 excesses     youth.

         I am a liar without                    my body and                                                    all her fury

             escapes                         permit.                                                                    premises.


                                my ruin is a anthological view of my pleasure.







                    mean in g m e    and ering l unatic

                               glu e cut l oose

                     all langu age, skin

                        talking  aga    in     st              each other


luster     lashes     corps         echoes entire veil.

                    because occasion frenzied,

                                         noble dunce renounced


                    1)      Orange

                    2)      Insoluble spread

                    3)      splendid Nature .



                    Expenditure.     That which ischus decrees.


Charlotte without you.     with you.

                    Half as much       penser Trop

twiddling sews             turn rivals.


Drift but to the tongue does not speak

                    darkening, fascinating matter             of serenity solution

outcomes farewell          scene       identifications.

Its comical side incomparable until some other

recieves my errantry continues.


                    Octave accent poverished        irrigates     ruse.



Providence, Notes


No sooner does a book enter than it gets written in "on a leaf", and a "string" starts
                        spinning, writing itself around the "image". Every thing wrote itself
He crushes hats.
To flee and to be written down by the falling book.

                   Both texts deal with the attempt to define an old problem of metaphysics

To last is to reveal there where you are conjured by absences not
                                     exhausted by giving up or letting go.

"and be opened in the book", which is to use spinning, turning into being locked.

The Book Abolishes Chance and by structure might-have-been Immaculate Conception
Emotivity is not "painted". Origin and end are identified and transformed,

                                                           "in human language" sorrow, in its being "removed
                                                 through snow" is no longer eliminated.

                         Autographeme:        "thought-sound"

                The important thing about the e is not the cricketing in itself but all those errors which allow this e to be distinguished from all other meaning, for it is these which are bearers of worlds.

                        A world in which nomenclature is foreign, " a green flash on the glassy
                        horizon" just beyond the Sonnet which is both "forgetfully & fully there"

                Sure the night rumbles on, unable weather "word" on intent "while" speakers compare languages, "as good natured as Jesus" "who came to see" "the opposite of water".

                Turneresque, the world thunderstruck.

Everything uttered changes gender in relation to a date, a blackbird. The eye is utterance
                at work, substituting one impermanence for another.



**(quotes are from Turneresque, by Elizabeth Willis, Burning Deck Press, 2003.)


As Amit Dwibedy, lives and places, a list of
echoes that begins to crackle, being born elsewhere
(ie the effects of durations, this is not the way a
photograph “fades”, but with silence). Waiting, many
shirts to show for it. Dolce and the white that Cole
will choose a priori. To accumulate pages is a
collection, to make them immaterial is the difference.
Sent away like balloons in the Paris sky, they return
in reflections, bound and logical. Pinch them. I
mis(s), I spell. “This secret between us is not ours.”

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