the rable of a star's emotion--the right

static for the wrong mosaic.

tuning out at full volume, a star system

from the inside out.

its reverb over a ******* Jack house--

that comes out as: "Endless Nameless".

while flashing red lights keep time.

no--this is what bad blood in a tree's gnarl

can trigger, how it starts digging.

passed on many occasions, never noticed

before (not really).

buried revolutions of seeded spells--

casted on as they cast.

a moondial with cramps: 'what's come

over you?'

is what we ask ourselves, before others

ask.

where we reply: 'i was going to ask you

the same thing.'

therefrom a planetary chain reaction

would be too predictable.

as would a demon slurping a plum pit,

pointing to the aforementioned star--

saying it feels one-fifth apprehension.

the stillest object or atmosphere may

appear to lack motion--but never

presence.

paradoxically, there's motion in the

greatest stillness--because it possesses

presence.

empty space has the most presence, it

needn't establish a dimensional

relationship to be so.

presence is therefore not dependent on

observability, neither is it independent of

it--it's simply present.

the eyes of a painting may follow you

across a room, just as eyes in-between

you & a painting may follow you across

a room.

even illusion has presence, as seeing was

believing.

remember--the dead outnumber the

living.

there really is no privacy--only the ego

may care, egolessness doesn't blush, yes

you're being watched.

the way that you'll witness a body (yours)

oversleep life--without judgment.

the bridge between the seer & the seen is

presence, which's to say seeing from &

back from to--simultaneously.

thus I present a bouquet of roses to

empty space.

spooked horses will run on two legs--

shinier than unction.

growing pale with the first idea of a

horse, which was the beast of their

apocalyptic burden.

a scream will re-enter their wide

necks, as if it never left.

they listen for it in every sound they

make, an open-ended edginess that builds

in them.

as everything is interconnected, the

apocalypse is akin to a traveling circuis.

which is to say that a place called earth,

is infinitely implicated--but by no means

exclusive to an apocalypse.

as is any other planet.

Truth remembers Truth, reveals itself to

itself.

Untruth forgets Untruth, reveals

itself to itself--as total destruction.

the idea of a horse is the same as the idea

of earth, ideas as pre-creation.

a serpent with a head where a tail should

be--& a head where a head should be.

strikes at G*d's will, at their own will.

as if paradise never knew what hit it,

its vicious turn of color.

color that gave it away--to be

captured & sold to a reptile

enthusiast for an attractive sum.

then two frozen rats went to a

terrarium's white light again.

lowered by their proud owner,

whose hands were prey of prey.

raptly puppeting an unconscious

symbolism, that saw them eat as a

family & die shortly after.

imagining it was the other's head,

that impingement on will--

(it was really rat poison).

now nothing but black sand's

sparkling cloak boiled down to

a questionably human skull, & a

large piece of driftwood with two

heads blocking both ends.

with a slothfulness that begins to stink.

whereupon he incisively

quoted: "Hypocrite lecteur,

-mon semblabe, -mon frere!"

Thy will be done, oddly enough.

Flinstone Vitamins' **** gush of fruity

dust, had an upside-down

convalescing taste.

Very much like the pre-attendence of a

body learning to show up.

A plastic red binder with checks &

minuses.

Birth trauma fluorescent lights

reabsorbing impact against iron mesh

windows.

Jittering along patterns of early

education, somewhere to decipher the

hand let go of.

Which sometimes led to unsophisticated

cruelties on behalf of survival.

A windowless classroom can't properly

educate imagination, windows are

quiet recharges for the retainment of

information.

How the smell of cafeteria food felt far

more personal because it wasn't

homemade.

how every: classroom/gymnasium/

auditorium/cafeteria/playground could

sound like a sqwaked-apart conversation.

Its coronal call.

Prostrated by a whistle or blowhorn from

on high--just when we were trying to

******* tell one another that it's really

a Mystery School.

ice casts itself as the dissuading thorn of

paved surfaces.

what water was doing--its last pompeian

motion.

absolutely bitter definition, that frames

attention around feet.

especially after dark, its scalpy deposits

overexpose dingy refractions.

the screeching halt of crystals & their

aura of preservation.

all of which seem to make what it covers

softer.

it's an immersive study that rewards

those given to exaggerated walking.

with that said--I was prompted to

abruptly look up into a random home's

living room.

greeted by a freshly painted aquarium,

whose colors undermined breath.

I must've felt the fish staring at me--

it was two hours of frozen communion,

to that.

outtakes of distant sidewalks, noir

streetlights editing suggestion.

suggesting what exactly?

the average value of a snow event to a

snowflake & the forced symmetries of

a populous.

where it all evens out, as long as they

make it through.

nearer than perfection, someone wears

a purple & gold Venetian Jester Mask.

carefully observing the tracks of bicycle

tires--that resemble spines.