Where are you Walter Benjamin?

(Comments welcome/desired on this poem and whether or not to leave Benjamin's name in the title.  Please)

Between the branch and the image of the branch.

Between a mountain and a range over you.

Between resting on a summer afternoon and its parasitical dependence on ritual.

Between make it easy and the urge grows stronger.

Between the tradition itself and what is thoroughly alive and extremely changeable.

Between organic fornication and mechanical reproduction.

Between how the actor represents himself and what you follow with your eyes.

Between world history which casts its shadow and graduated and hierarchized emancipation.

Between the ancient craft of the beautiful and a series of optical tests.

Between the elk portrayed by the man and the line.

Between the position of a critic and certain statues of gods.

Between an afforded spectacle accessible only to the priest i and permits subjected to consumers who constitute resistance of cult value.

Between certain covered Madonnas and the walls of his cave.

Between an analogy with a surgical operation and an ultimate retrenchment it retires into.

Between the feeling of strangeness that overcomes like scenes of crime and a land in the orchid of technology.

Between the audience on the take and the human countenance freed from the foreign substance.

Between an aesthetic pleasure of the first order and today seeming devious and confused.

Between the market feel as if in exile and vanishing into silence.

Between the stage but also from himself.

Between a vague sense of discomfort he feels with Walter Benjamin and the polar opposite of the magician.

Between his body as it loses its corporeality and the flickering of an instant on the screen.

Between the broad stream of mediation it evaporates and a certain situation, like a muscle of a body

Between inexplicable emptiness and the goal only war can set.

Between a surgeon deprived of reality, life, voice, and the noises and his moving about, in order to be changed into a mute image.

Between the cameraman penetrates deeply into its web

Between the reactionary attitudeand a Picasso painting changing into a Chaplin movie.

Between the truly new that is criticized with aversion and the possible perceived for architecture at all times.

Between the comparison with painting is and the epic poem of fruitful perception.

Between the studied degradation and an assured but rather vehement distraction

Between the shock effect of the commonplace and the instruments of ballistics it hit.