eight-by-fours
12. Just Emptied out bones of the smoker’s corpse lie along what looked like a trail carved by the subconscious. Were really fissures formed in the slow dissolution of well of just everything. every From great heights everything looks designed stripped of the shit we scatter from windows & from mouths & adjust the recording devices because distance reduces us to silent pockets. From Cess pools, military architect’s installations & gravel farms & reflective dish arrays & rainwater collection basins & great walls & w/out specificity culture is just an invention. invective Every building is a clock running toward ruin, an uncoiling perpetual motion machine made of string, tying a web of words to our memory of what we had just said, then to whom. names When we’re gone, construction sites will burn with their own fuel, vines along the lines will pull the wires free, string adjusting the spring, extinguished damp ruins of heroes’ pyres. Pyres Just once I’d like to come home to full-scale reduction of municipal inconveniences, like dead deer dragged to the shoulder, trailing their spilled guts between McDonald’s bags. Again We can, of course, talk about agenda items, but in every window of every house in every city in every major metropolitan area of every continent save one is a reflection of longing. These These days you can’t just count on the pinchhitter coming through for you. There are contingencies to be considered, weighed against what? The thought it doesn’t matter? It