I don’t believe… in the mechanical elements of art, which are neither the regulation of the beautiful, nor its control, nor its consequence; but which we would be more likely to find at the peak of the intersection of two parallel lines, or in a submarine formation of stars and transchromatic aeroplanes. In the blood of stones, perhaps, in the obscurity of cellular metals, and of cryptograms, and in the surge of images under the bark of trees.
Otohime 
Nada,Do you know where this quote comes from? Tzara could write so beautifully (and brilliantly) on poetry–it feels like he’s extremely underrated in the US, since all anyone reads is the manifestos which are such a small sliver of his full range.
This comes from “the bankruptcy of humour: reply to a questionnaire,” which is on page 93 of (yes) <>Seven Dada Manifestos and Lampisteries<>.It is truly one of my favorite books, one I go back and back and back to. I think I sometimes fancy myself his reincarnation? But that’s hubris. But I mean, just listen to this:“Beauty and Truth in art don’t exist; what interests me is the intensity of a personality, transposed directly and clearly into its work, man and his vitality, the angle under which he looks at the elements and the way he is able to pick these ornamental words, feelings and emotions, out of the basket of death.” (from “lecture on dada” p. 107)I can imagine no succincter statement of my own poetics. Thank you, Tristan.