XII. Double Gallery
The solids swerve and twist like taffy.
The rails you ride crisscross the perimeter.
The circumference confronts itself.
Standings, soundings, surroundings.
Not a tummy tuck, but a stomach fold.
As a lizard dodges over the deck, the effect is so
slippery because the connection is so tight.
Maneuvering over the radio dial hectically
what persists is the hiss of the dialectic. Between
poles. The leopard remains snug in the air-lock.
Stonewalling lapidaries. Marbleized capillaries.
What triggers aggression? The story of capitalism
from cocoon to tycoon. Innocence closed-off
and playing in the background like a laugh track
to a cancelled sitcom. Decompression --
where comprehension comes to decompose.
Compacted layers of scotch tape flick off
like sheets of mica under a fingernail. Do you prefer
to serve the shrunken head of accumulated knowledges
as an entrée, or to deglaze the leavings?
I would prefer not to knot the strings
up into a product. The fungibility of the disfigured.
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