Tuesday, September 01, 2009

The Commons set 3 // 10 - 11

here / in the centre
of the squealing world
original and peculiar
a small town, far from
here / this scratching rack
non-dogmatic / a guide
to action: “last night
I lay sleeping / all by
myself, was a thin leather
den of countless bandits
for theatrical exhibition
here in the centre
of the squealing town
medieval / a gated world

for scratching executives
use fuses / inside their office
membranes, posterity, a den
of countless galaxies, a net
of iconic repulsions. Nah,
the denials are in the post,
we guess we think we’re sorry,
here in the drugstore, filled
with mercury, made from
glass & plastic. Their era
is not ours / our dialectical
tilt circuit / our ferule / our
- BANG -
can come over / or rather

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