This week, loving Dana Ward, The Squeakquel, parts 1 & 2.
"I should mention," I added with a stiff upper lip, "that my poem begins with a quotation from Franco 'Bifo' Berardi--'The Social content of capitalist production contradicts its own semiotic framework. It produces a system of misunderstandings, contradictory injunctions and perverse juxtapositions. Therefore, it's a great joy to have intercourse with people of excellent taste'."
The table grew tired of feeling my eyes boring into its surface with mute incomprehension, & so, as if to satisfy my mystical impatience leapt up & started dancing there, not possessed, come true. When it danced it was like a Swiss army knife dancing with each step revealing more lacerating plumage that cut through the tender & tactile air above my head (which had something like the dampness of a sapling), & when it was done with its volleys & cuts a dewy light-bulb had been carved & stationed in the orbit of my skull.
Those are both from part 1. It is not paginated.
Also, Claire Bishop, "Antagonism and Relational Aesthetics."
Also, John d'Agata, About a Mountain.
Also Leslie Scalapino, How Phenomena Appear to Unfold.