Orgiastic drone rhythm,
A neural net
Of temporary answers
Ameba in size float through
Our every day of
Temporary truths
By the second.
A catch all of change
In bone surrounded by blood
Enclosed in skin
Of contradiction.
i think of being on the assembly line
ReplyDeletei think of immense black rubber pulleys
moving the line down
moving a conveyor belt before me
moving one can and the next can and the next can
moving them on down the line
and each ordinary tin can
i think of them as truths
and i could hammer each one
hammer each one down into a flat disk
but the next moment
and the next
and the next
there would be another tin can
and it would be a truth
a new fucken truth
and the line would keep on moving
one can never negating the truth of the last
each one whole and metallic and real
in its moment
on the line.
xo
erin