from a psychoanalysis discussion board content stream

along the lines of topology and psychoanalysis and poetry in this stream...here is a thought and two poems: formal topological procedures, done inexpertly and idiosyncratically within the context of language production...(this is not your standard borromean knot necessarily...but it is my own idiosyncratic formal relation as reader/writer)...these procedures, create their own remainders...and these remainders are art/artifice's unconscious/poetry...maybe? poems (both created through inexpert psychoanalytic topologies: YOUR LOVE by joseph s. cooper, There is no end to it // And this was off-putting // In the classic sense // No end to the drifting wreckage // The years of gravel roads like unfamiliar lakes // Sentiments crumbled into cursive // Fog concealing the navigable waters // With relative ease-- // The space between this figure and that figure // The marred foundations we forgot, // The wind in the rosebush cussing and coughing, // An end crawling over a universal statement // As if blown toward me, half recalled // By coupling a roadmap with the road....AND from INTO THE FURROWS by me, (in life, as soon, as // I say my) roaring shadow // (as soon as I forget) // through thought showers the steely // (other way around) blood-red // (surviving is not what we // think) rain hard through your // pores (half the body) like // eternity-teeth (deported) so deeply // (a metaphor avowing the unavowable)