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We analyse, we discuss, we fuss
because poetic dead zones offer us no trust.
Haloes halo hellos of spin between galaxies that sing.
Dust grains entrance in sync before collapsing inwards on winds.
Our tests show disruption in 11 dimensions
across poetic fields. This equates to the drifting
consciousness of neuronal clouds sparking dreams thrown into confusion.
[I once asked the ballet about the system:
spiking activity, narrow reverberating state.
We knew an interesting afterwards but
deployed a novel to place against the background]
…a pitfall of piece-wise under the power of external influences
| The chair still lingering | In total, the key to the future |
Morphological transformation has occurred…
Fly-bys sculpting novel views,
the code will be baseline novel, realistic novel
~ paper decomposes the problem.
Infection begins to clear amidst the sound of partitions.
Heal intensely, the smoothness of stars increase uncertainty:
gestures map each articulate.
With our new training we will lip-read the dialogue of exoplanets,
sifting through the remnants of planetary libraries.
The presence reabsorbed in
cries out this essential, these differences,
I, facing Sonal discourse. Aspects in each
stated their effect, of shutting capable egoism.
Welcome, empty-handed subject, subject, sun.
Paul Robinson is an experimental poet from Toxteth whose work has appeared online, in print and performed at the University of Leeds and Leeds Art Gallery. The Purpose is a work created out of scientific papers available in the public domain using a randomised process to stitch together each line of the poem. Paul also curates the Abandoned Couches of Liverpool Twitter and Instagram accounts.