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Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Sensory Deprivation Bat, 10

Let everything that moves through you be your legacy, your transmissions your real name, your meaning unstatic specific and mostly the banal: click tricks of time slips, too many tabs open, cloud storage, podcasts to put you to sleep....War games. Horoscopes. The comments section. Abrupt breakup texts. So many sunset photos. Severance letters. Birth announcements. Are you still watching? Sales. Spam. Real war. No mark matches mark, no moment, no mundane, no magic matches magic. You too will go the way of flesh mostly forgotten. You too were once the ground. Left overburden mounds / midden / spoil tip in your wake, left gaping, left desperate fire. Left scar. Allow and move toward corrosion like love. 

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