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Aims are best grasped by what the movement opposed: {6}

1. narrative: no story or connecting tissue of viewpoint or argument: poems often incorporate random thoughts, observations and sometimes nonsense. {7}
2. personal expression: not merely detached, the poems accept Barthe's thesis that the author does not exist. {8}
3. organization: poems are based on the line, not the stanza, and often that line is discontinuous or fragmentary: the poems reject any guiding sense of purpose. {9}
4. control: poems take to extremes the open forms advocated by Williams and the Black Mountain School.
5. capitalist politics and/or bourgeoisie values. {10}

http://www.textetc.com/modernist/language-poetry.html


1The words of the Preacher,
the son of David,
king in Jerusalem.
2 Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
3 What does man gain by all the toil
at which he toils under the sun?
4A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises, and the sun goes down,
and hastens to the place where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and goes around to the north;
around and around goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.
7All streams run to the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they flow again.
8All things are full of weariness;
a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done,
and there is nothing new under the sun.
10Is there a thing of which it is said,
"See, this is new"?
It has been already
in the ages before us.
11 There is no remembrance of former things,
nor will there be any remembrance
of later things yet to be
among those who come after.

Ecclesiastes 1


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To have evolved into an extreme pro-piety by this point, as at the beginning the refinement of a technique; another inevitable dam built against the onslaught of reality--i.e. the constant creation of the mind.

(Left as we are with a theory of Games within language, another amusement, this time at the expense of the Art, a constant illusion of Now,

...in one sense, a gang of thieves who rush to the grotto in the dark to hack the white goddess into pieces and rush off with bits & pieces to proclaim her death in the cities.

That narration is a foible, yes of course! The procession begins at a certain point and ends at another, the conversation is the buzz of the mob intent as always upon destruction, an underlying morbidity, false trails.

"Nothing But Stars" To annihilate the author, it would seem at least prudent to discover who he is. He is, at the very least, not who he says he is...

and the rest? tired old maxims, reruns of the theories of Beaver Cleaver's Dad, polished up and sold as "New"

Problem is; "Now" is always passe.

(Not that it matters anymore)