Saturday, July 18, 2009

Zerochre Zerochrome. by sean s

after Unboxed by JKD


It occurs to
gift wrapping, shiny thin
holiday mornings
stuffed in a paper bag


Zerochre. Your presents are gone because
they are unwrapped.
We will bury now the torn, abbreveiated desire shiny
that is - mercantile sides up, as pleasing
to any discarnate sky father,
always about the front holes.
and their coveres. Maps. The Emperor card.
Thank you doctor.
You've remolded my mind into a heaven on eartht.
Oils thick with grace, the fluid of earth, thich
words, fuck, come. Dry land, doctor.
From doctor. Form, decor.


Dirt back in place, a grass
placemat to shield us tables trajectories from
the glasses' circles of moisture.
Condensed folds of flesh full of grace
stone for a head

Which remainder misbarren, what maskun.
Tsones and hsales. Build us off the numbnis of markers
numbers, toubwers of piled invention. Build

us into starlight, ships of icy skein, plie
the implicit emptily inhmane skie
underneath above the thin atmostpher one in
in all gravites and curvess between
every ancient collapse and explode.

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