what comes will tag bound seal and store all this like you do what happened
(continuings shame: ty(p)ing up what was and leafving it)
then dump it all in a museum and burn it down.
(continuings shame: bumbling about in the gorse ash, mumbling)
split sunflower kernels on tabletop, no matter what you do.
disintegrations shifting. the options are clear: none of them, through lengthening horizontal ice-shard days. we sex through food, stare dumb at hairy sexes, bend and wave with them, wave at them, bop around on swerving trains upright to air out what groans. a band around the head, another around the trees. warpspeed in the crisp channels in the floorboards. reports of dirty metropolis, oh rly, death static. clear water, fishrot rising.
impulses thru skins and so far from them. learn what from that. flung into boxes heavy with being emptied of some other pasts flung too far and there it is you recognize falsely and so settling into falling away almost prettily; you or it, gear teeth of each, clacking and assured in a machine that is tired and wants only to slump further into the mud we really cant afford to keep around no more.
tiny flashing nips of air cling to beans underwater. the holes in friday. and those in us, but later, on sunday or really monday. out of date holes shitting out of date sweet popcorn help garble our speech. a message arrives in stone. we share our being born apart in silence, at a remove. from water, all air is quicksilver. and we are water.
this melody strings us up like used curtains, strung out, a sort of height to rain from, the way garments rain when the body wearing them suddenly vanishes, weve all seen it. call to the other crumpled clay clumps drying in wet cardboard. hi.
nothing else does this. in the expropriated breeze, in the vacancy of being stood on, again, abandoned to its own circling, spinning in place bounding with green life.
its running down yr face, the screen helps you with your crying. and assuredly tomorrows openings are gridded into place, stacked, then plugged.
strings of products stream through the strung bodies festooned for a festival of electronic modifications. cue the loop up slightly off, the lop completely off. dance gauche about the angle of judgement of sympathetic types who just arent quite up to your idea of you, presuming theyll fix but its all a blur to you, to non-you.
eye down the straight line of the body they tell you you have to own. black winds are slamming. under yr eyelids looking down the sights of yr rifle body dropped against a chair in an empty but full kitchen a stream of sick echoes away from the surface, a magazine of sick echoes away from the pelted magnolias upright like candles on swerving trains.
next day, spring snow. some total suffocating affect in form of wire box or frame. stormtrooper curtains at last.
and the strain in the lenses of yr eyes is marker of yr quiet unrecognized 16-bit return.
the names of people say their things, the letters making up a handbag of what was otherwise one great big ‘as if’.
breathe that suffocating in gently, like they teach you to breathe fumes from vials in science, like you were trying to breathe the flashing nips of air clinging to beans underwater.
“everyone leaves you alone.”
with your negative account balances and touching novels of waiting clinging to beans underwater.