fish and glue

is there a need to revive who

says the country sinking in a

pool with all its form or inch

masks and soups or plungers

thumping the drain was sand at

body's end possessed with

puppets or by the wooden teeth

splintered into great shafts of

echo echo torsion crumbles

your history's granite shit large

across the dogma flies and

rabbits obsessive ether swirls

in the gravity in the rash of

air your crowded lungs im

pulse reverie lipped in the

muddied glass window cl

ouded with birds or sk

eletal angels lacking eyes l

acking eyes the parallel

lines diverge come to a

point or seismic archaeology

raving next a tiny lamp whose

shoes open with a yawn your

furious knot defenestrated re

mains in weeks your earth

flickers with linoleum f

lickers with the edge of

thought I convected

through yr crumbled stasis

was the sandy axis where

“in reality I'm sitting here

playing a banjo and talking

to a goose” Blaster Al Ackerman

Interjective discourse through

Jim Leftwich's Six Months Aint No Sentence,

Book 104, 2015; & Ivan Argüelles' “anabasis i”, 2015