Offering to the Soldiers of ZOCK, Zealous Organization of Candied Knights
by Sean Kilpatrick
Art as the eschewal of anything save homicide, no poesy of gore, those who tinker free from complicity – what? Are we fitting in? Are we doing well, adjustable, acclimated, suffered none, hurt only toenails? Do we got blenders full of change? Fired because the internet? Don’t hate anything? Leave the fucking paint. Be the kindest worst wrong worse than now. Take the initiative and forcibly re-atomize with the pulsar that belched our accident before the heat death all clocks yearn toward salutes matter to a speck. Still overpaid pilgrims for the cross here. In a world without doctors, we would live forever. In an unpoliced world, we would always be hurting the right people. Who tows their carcass in the Plasticine backdrop Otto Muehl raped existing? The Vienna Actionists ruined the world’s sofas, a preadolescent straw of pubis, these sluts of forward motion, hiding under communes to hurt children. Whoops, meanwhile, we’re in another century, married to the million dollar page, well-groomed, snarky from a distance. Hermann Nitsch hasn’t somewhat slit our meat. Look, motherfucker, it’s Hermann with two N’s. Get knocked up in one mid-plummet, offer the resulting smear. You need more kidney stones to hear what he’s saying. Still parsing? Those who parse do not disarm; they remain unarmed. The world never bleeds enough. Long live ZOCK.
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Sean Kilpatrick is the author of fuckscapes (Blue Square Press, MLP, 2011) and co-author of Anatomy Courses, a novel with Blake Butler (Lazy Fascist Press, 2012).
