The Be-Coming of NewMedia
The Be-Coming of NewMedia
Envisioning ArtForms for Be-Coming Ages;

You Know I nearly took a soul mate
How dashing—I would have been
Me—With a soul mate
She was
One—Very pretty
Two—Very beautiful
Three—Very blond
With fearless steel black eyes

We were undefinable
We were acting in all integrity
And—Were just becoming

We met in the park
And we talked for a very—Very long time
And—We agreed to meet
In the park—That very next day

I spent the night drawing a heart
With an arrow
For her—A large heart
Like those—of the ferries
In my Dionysian festivals
For the color red
I used my own blood
I pricked my finger—Very deeply
OUCH!!—How it hurt

She was
One—Very pretty
Two—Very beautiful
Three—Very Blond
And—Quite shocking black eyes

When I looked at her—Oh Oh
Scales seemed to be growing all over her body
And—I felt like I was a big fish
Gliding between her legs

Well—I did pretty well
With the heart
Perhaps it was a little round
And—I drew an arrow
And—I wrote my name
While I was drawing—I thought
I was flying in the air with her
And we lost each other—In the sky
And her body was nothing
But legs—And—Lips forever

Believe me—It was very nice
The Heart
The arrow
The drops of blood
It was a symbol
A gesture —
The annoying thing—Is
That later the blood turned to black

But—She was
One—Very pretty
Two—Very beautiful
Three—Very Blond
And —Those astonishing black eyes

We talked for at least a half an hour
In the park
Banalities—You could say
About—The weather
She asked me where
A street was
But she was very well aware
That—Behind those words
We really spoke of our love

She loved me without a doubt
When she said—To me
It is not as cold as last year
I knew—That in fact
Her veiled desire
Would have sounded more like—We
Will leave with each other—And
We will eat sea urchins together

I answered her with—You are
Like the seagulls of the world
At the hour of the siesta
You sleep on me
Like a bird entering its cage
I feel your heartbeat
And —The rhythm of your respiration
In all The pores of my skin
From my heart—Spurts a jet
Of crystalline water
With—Which to bathe your virgin white feet

That is why
I spent the night creating
That heart
Only for her
And—Since I did not know her name
I was inspired to name her—EMET

What—A day I lived through
Just thinking of her—EMET
I asked myself should I tell

When I got to the park
Well she—She must have—Made a mistake
She must not have understood
For an entire week—I went to the park
For five hours each evening
She must have been run over by a car

It could not be something else
On the fifth night—At the ordained time
Given to me by my Soul Mate
I was visited
Though it was EMET—MAMA
Who showed up
At the spot
I last saw my Soul Mate


What a strange sight
It looked as though vapors
Were escaping from her shattered head—And
I thought I saw a lizard
Crawl out of the wound
The lizard got on the table
At which I performed my exalted carvings
The lizard
Was facing me—And—Stared fixedly
His goitered throat
Up and down

I—Examining him more closely
Could see his face was my face
Then when I tried to catch him
He disappeared—Into the wind
As if—He were only phantom
Then—I don't know why
I had this great longing to weep

I feel unhappy

I kissed MAMA—On the lips
My hands—And—My Lips
Got all bloody—I called in vain
She did not answer
And I felt even sadder
Even more like crying

Darling EMET it is—Forever I
Your son
I did not mean to hurt you
It was a mistake
What is the matter?
Why not do you move?
My—How you bleed


I will build myself a
Cage of wood
And—I will shut myself inside of it

From here
I will pardon humanity
For all the hate
It has always shown—Toward me

I will pardon
My father—And—My mother
For that day when their bellies
United to beget me

And—I will forgive all the cretins
Those—Who were always underestimating
My Worth
And—Ignoring who I was

I will give them pardon too
I will pardon
Ah—In chains

And alone—All alone
At last—No one
Will ever contradict me
Again—No one
To witness my foibles
In chains—What happiness
Long live the padlock—And
The chain


A man
With soul so dead
Who—To himself
Has never said
This is my own
This is my native land
Whose heart—Has never
Within him—Burned

This is the Becoming of my home
So now—The man
His feet cindering
In the pyre

On—The verge of flames
Ready to fly—Just as does the Phoenix
Perched—I there in the pyre
Ready to fly
Into the wild dark yonder
Alone—Once again