Language Is Not Transparent (1969), by Mel Bochner

I don't remember who exactly cast that spell:

Andy Warhol or John Cage,

-heinz Stockhausen or -bert Indiana,

G. Klimt or Erik Satie - it was: 

repeat the thing until it loses every piece of sense it ever beared

on this "Long and Winding..." "...Hard Road out of hell".

But what happened i can only presume.

So -  

here they is.  The Sentence. Good and clean-cut. It states something and it stands for it to the end. 

Look closer - just like when you tease the beauty to show the other - look closer - 

First it seems to be moving,

then it seems to be trembling - 

and in the end it's just the crowd of letters waiting for the miracle

it's just the crowd of letters who demand :

- something to be broken

- something to be mirrored

- something to be marooned

- something to be tortured

- something to be controled

- something to lie aside

- something to be ordered

- something to be cracked

- something to be fucked

- something to drill a hole in the wall which is actually a centuries-old tree

- all for approving itselft as the coherent whole.

And as it usualy happens - 

then they go -

in every direction you can ever imagine

there, there, there and there and even there and also there - 

just like the big bang - and the universe happened,

shit also happens

for a start - and there's a bigger need to measure all this jazz

But it lies over the top of the threshold of the unmeasurable and unbearable treasures of mankind 

that survived a certain kind of suffering only to achieve the title which hints on obvious fact of self-explication and self-reimagining in depend for the glory of the not bright line which will be never reached.

I wonder what that means. Somekind of repent for the wasted time.
And lots of Oh No No, No No No (is that a Transformers guy punchline? oh, forget about it).

So this crowd does what can be called "get lost"

they run away

and they hate it

'cause who loves the breakups?

they want to disappear

they want to cease to exist

their forms are getting tighter

 their senses getting thin

and don't forget about the flies flying all over them

althrough they still move - there are colonies of them around and that sound

and it seems that their movement is just the dream

They're still

They stand still

Thats what happened, 

I presume - they dissolved

to wander where no word had gone before

but 

Nothing actually happened.