Mode Z

Could we have those trees cleared out of the way?
And those houses, volcanoes, empires? The natural
panorama is false, the shadows it casts are so many
useless platitudes. Everything is suspect. Even
clouds of the same sky are the same. Close the door
is voluntary death. There is one color, not any.

Prove to me now that you have finally undermined
your heroes. In fits of distraction the walls cover
themselves with portraits. Types are not men. Admit
that your studies are over. Limit yourself to your
memoirs. Identity is only natural. Now become
the person in your life. Start writing autobiography

--Barrett Watten, 1-10 (This Press, 1980)

how L*A*N*G*U*A*G*E*y is that? I think it is lovely. "Types are not men".