The beginning of the end

the first day of the last month in a world where December is not the end of anything in particular.

The first December in awareness which

is like this, is like living constantly out of

step with the time and the day and night cycle of

the world.

So it is, being usually asleep until eight in the evening

and sleeping at seven in the morning and trying now to

valiantly reset so we can live like a human being who works.

Not even work but study and function at a vague standard of


I don’t mean to shy away from the light but if the morning sun burned you,

surely you would do so to?

a Coat, deep-dyed in darkness rather than sin.

Since there is no space for sin.

He said, don’t write mechanistically – so this is part of the revision

the sound of my madness; echoing, echoing.

Wish us well oh wishing well that draws coins even when you are dry.

A fount of wisdom and luck – a magnet for coins

gushing forth like a sea with no recourse nor shore to lap against

swallowed up like a man between two white lines,


A monstrous being so human and so not

one meter long and ten centimeters wide

shuttling along on wires capable of slicing you to bits.

A truck that sends you there, in lines and lines or

pixels, a world where cartoon characters are human.

We call this idle dreaming.

It is, yes it is, I do not deny it to be so.

But isn’t dreaming one of those mystical things that people do?

To create something that doesn’t exist,

what a power.

During this coming holiday I want to learn how to pick locks.

I also want to make bread and spend time with my little sister.

But that comes after today and thursday.


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