picking figs in the ̥̞̞̊̽̽ͯ garden while my world eats Itself    •    New work by Everest Pipkin    •    June 12th - July 1st, 2015

this nest was right there- principles, objects 
It was egg-shaped, buckwheat, a distance, (it is thought on the 
outside) 
Letters felt it, the intricacies of a step discovery. 
One to pull myself composition, 
It dawned other screens.

They certainly feel something here, have boarded Now, little 
islands of an ambiguous same. 
"warm", "cold", their numerical value,
their inscriptions, meaning in only tiniest fragment,
the letters themselves as physicists 
a blue dome 
surprised by verses.

You and I have carried this into the open country. 
the white cube of letters and a folded flame. 
They divided the moment, the will of the matter. 
The correct facing away from the sun.
a little dozing plane.

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picking figs in the ̥̞̞̊̽̽ͯ garden while my world eats Itself is a curatorial poetry collaboration with a large number of algorithms, bots, generators, and code snippets. Using a shifting set of parameters to define possible poem shapes in a letter-as-atomic-particle ruleset, these programs dissect and reassemble language according to a set of meanings intrinsic to their existence but opaque from a human viewpoint. 

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Everest Pipkin was born in Austin, Texas in the fall of 1990. They make drawings with their hands, the internet, and language- sometimes that of machines, and sometimes words of their own. Here is a series of symbols that looks like a field of flowers. ↾􏰀! ᵳ≀ 〴❧❀१✾឴〳ノ〳❊⎝. 

everest-pipkin.com

Read a review of the show here