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Resignation
Traumnochte (1943-6)
Hey rhino-face, you spook me I’ve seen you before, in the movies you were just a baby then It is the element of the contemporary never to give us peace.
The orchid has never looked more human. Its mandibles cleaned with a nail file, it is ready to sting you with leopard-print as you lay in waste on a couch of fur. These nails are of all remembrance, about as big as they would have been, you can feel them moving up your leg ice-cold as a magician’s calliper. The man you are waiting for is watching through that sphere made of fantasy metal like a dead sun, and hung over the credenza. Was it always there? Have the plants grown legs while you were sleeping, to pull down stalks of rotten medicine? In matching metal, in tin pan tympanic shallow bate sedation, the tray begins to spin. What’s that hum and scuttle? Will you ever get to lie there, and whose pleasure is that speaking?
This lot all grab at the Miami Vice background Something dreadful about looking for Oahu like a financier’s Dix in 1930. This is the theme played by the left hand, nails duplicated in caulking, not even slightly aesthetic. We are in the midst of a campaign A dream makes room for Birdseye frozen peas Something evil about saying Flower a classicist pterodactyl on stems of rubber-coated wire! When you give up and they go, you lose also all the memories which hung on to the intersection like drunk bees, naked at the end of a difficult season. Remember this is a reason to work harder.