I rest my eyes on
an implosion of oppositions.
This is not that.
Excite me with less;
I am overdrawn on suchiness.
Artists are all Pierrots.
They apply balm to nothing.
How vapid to want recognition
and not be able to find it.
This table is empty.
We do not feast here.
Cards are dealt and puzzles lie
all disjunct and mysterious.
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 2:43 PM UTC
I rest my eyes on
an implosion of oppositions.
This is not that.
Excite me with less;
I am overdrawn on suchiness.
Artists are all Pierrots.
They apply balm to nothing.
How vapid to want recognition
and not be able to find it.
This table is empty.
We do not feast here.
Cards are dealt and puzzles lie
all disjunct and mysterious.
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