Magic Reality
to allow for enmeshment
to chosen entireties
The river up to my knees
I've now dunked into
a river up to my knees
I dream about what happens
around me as I sleep
I am a thick virtue
waters and pore
tainted tangled twines
of isolated ocean current
made into wind pocket
found in a fogdog
we exhausted time's sigil
its signified, it's denominator
it's elastic quantity
time sleeps and the rest
of the world are presented with
magical options
one, a panic attack in a car
two, materialise numbers
three, any dead end curiousity
ending up in a soup of the day
three, recursions are snapped re-open
four, repeater has to be observed to run its course even by a camera recording that after your death
five, that all flipped quick trickery are left at the bar and rang for because your partner forgot them
six, to also omit classical rules that unquestionably work in hope for a different coagulation for a sense to throb at
I, being some thick virtue
or
if I'd even followed definitions
to recommence:
I, as unity through shifting
desert signs, to claim
dotted lines, in the name of
orientation
because no-one knows who
but we get close enough
no-one knows where
but we did yet our parking spot
for labour is not around here,
we knew when but we knew this
prior to all questioning
an escaped lion on a nature
strip gazes at traffic lights
tears light rays with a bite
and tastes mapped movements
and praises the meal with its attractive tongue.
