Send the desserts to their death:
splay the declassified surrender to
stitch the human dropdead drawer
order pissed up retroactive smothering
every total-imaginary -- confetti the past
to be reannealed, desimianizing
outer gets down poise
as a data burn
Truth takes place
in this clutter, relativized by spectacle --
scintillate history externals as product lore only
writing forgets to forget
little much more uncaptioned than this
regression makes sense