1. We have come here to [for]get.  The nets cannot hold.


  1. The postmodern city asks to become a heap/sequence of philosophical guesses, a checklist for the sublime.


  1. Sophisticated equipment set up on the side of the road tracks the open[ing], but wind and rain sabotage experiment. And people are unreliable—though they smile and open.


  1. Is your House [of being] an essay or multiple-choice test? True/false? It can’t be that simple, can it? But one wants any[way].


  1. The world weeps entropy, begs to enter the screen as cyber-dream; splice a film of delphinium and [t]rain, backdrop of betrayal—the dark envelope’s center of seeds.


  1. I lost myself in the poem, its brushstrokes of unsettling music—later resurfacing in the tapestry-symphony quilt. Follow my diaphanous thread.


  1. There was so much to make you experience on your own—though I knew, at times, you might miss the quotidian persona.


  1. The music doesn’t stop after the score is played [unless the pages are burned [unless the pages are burned into memory]]. It stays and stays stitched into a perpetual spiritual undoing—before the cathartic Coda of Rain.


  1. You will leave knowing more [what might mean] in and over time; the stones and [k]nots you carry tomorrow.


  1. The island of bet[rayal] and wingspan was different each time. The sea, an odd creature—with death in her mouth.


  1. The organ at the controls steers the ship of the singular, clings to the certainty of barnacle and seaweed. There is just so much.








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