for Paul
I have been studying the process
whereby you become a law
its circuits its its interruptions
I swallowed it 17 times
with burning sugar / it was boring
dancing like a murdered cop
his change in circumstances
countercrackling, hobbled
I swallowed him 17 times
asked for an explanation
a system of ancient flinching
understood chemanically
you will have to pay it back
from the future, crack’d
“move along, ‘fun people’,
nothing to see here”
you will have shimmering
a language of the barricades
yeh, I know, sorry
we are all in that death,
that decade, understood,
running thru its prescriptions
its ancient answers, you
my enemy, doing ‘something’,
the police, doing ‘the alphabet’
its secret monarchy, its meaning
its nice dog functions,
its corporate poetry sucks.
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