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the carapace
next to the live
version of the thing
that left its skin behind

We flutter when lighght

then ask forgiveness
for the mask

tape informs
a room

that can
contain all sayings

when I lift the window, all the outside rushes
lean again
in—to touch
the wall of some former you to touch its post

date and shipping

One structure wills
its disappearance in time then reappears in other
places people mind

Their tracks simple

what it is to
the images
that pass

before them
in succession

What truth in train
of thought and rain

What train of distinct whistle being
carried away
note by longing note by longing no

the verb to pill
versus the object
swallowed—one is
our way forward
in this world. The other

if I was to count you
two times
among the leaves and lampposts

if I was to stammer
my calling of you
out into a song
and wait for it to return

The rasterized image contains its deconstructed form,
a hollow tube coursing sound through one body

out into this thinning air

How magic is performed for an audience
but practiced alone so many times

it becomes mundane

And I swallow
your name before I act—a cat
in my throat
making words deform

What is
smaller then
in nearly
any solution

when one key

is depressed                      the others sound alarmed

and the swatch of light that follows this depression

will dampen the edges of the horizon and all the debt

will cry as it’s erased – what real fear crushes: the cell and sublime

infinite stages between

their terms

dry tears on the dollar

dead present, depressed

dead president

return to ISSUE ONE

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