the knife . . . the book

by bookindian

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push the blade,
cut to the heart
of the book . . .

Excalibur
thy name is DADA

the legacy is shit . . .

Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.

Choose an article
the length you want your poem.

Next carefully cut out each of the words and put them all in a bag.
Shake Gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.

the result
IS NOT a poem

it is shit . . .

it is wiping your ass
and calling the result “ART” . . .

it is bourgeois acuity
dreamed up
by bourgeois proles

with no job
and time on their hands . . .

da doo doo doo . . . da da da da . . .

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