finally the garden
I built an arch
don’t take it personally
the intoxication of the detective
mimesis engenders forgeries
Dial-up F for Fake
Simulate object cause of lack
We all get fat in the same way
That nightly opera, empty
But what a show
And can you stop being friends with someone you never knew
That pile of magazines is just holding you back
I had a dream there were three friezes of a man on a horseback. The man aged over the course of the frieze, the horse did not. A man commenting on the friezes said "it is better to be the man than the horse.”
And parents die for their children all the time
The birds don’t like the dried worms so much but they eat them in the absence of anything else
And when I wasn’t looking the parrot dropped peanuts down for the pigeon
And they fight in mid-air, because there are five parrots and four things
And now there are too many events we wonder what you would have thought about
and we have no idea what you would think
and, in the end, what do we think?
What do you think?
You have to laugh, because ours is a tragic culture without tragedy
And everything ends; all empires crumble
And the politics of bones gives way to the history of bones to the anthropology of bones to the dust of bones
And has the magpie lost its mate or do they just come separately these days
pay attention to the size
And the pretty birds don’t stay more than a fleeting moment
no wonder they are so small
And it’s neither proportion, nor symmetry, nor perfection
And no matter how many times we say we do not want men to die, they do