if yr stuck
in the middle of something that’s not real the lights are a throbbing sort but
white w. uncatchable overtones / like describing & classifying the place
behind the waves in an illustration on the cover of a book that earned the photographer
enuf for one good nite out on the town / international litigation & then
tires squealing / missed it that time / expecting the government to meet its
end of the bargain / a government that rebels disarm / a second email to attack
many analysts or not the feeling of murmur to yrself without coherence / then punctuation
obliterates matter, then / sold after the markets close / that’s what i
call, the new standard time \ a parabola bends & so the shape of language approximates lateness,
hurrying
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