the disadjuster
uber-unmensched
whos hands are these . . .
world
gone
2d
like a waldo / wally foldout
a quiet crisis
matrix-like
in
its
glitching
~
i take off my glasses
& there it all is
its impressionistic
with drunken clarity
& undeniably real
longshadow me longcasts
across the lawn & cat
& the shrill grunt
of a
handbrake streetside
wedged
itself
inside
a
crack in time
postman i thought
or
the stepsons
who visit
across the road
~
&
i
travelled around the world 100 times
in
that
single smudge / one planck unit
of
afternoon sun
mainly geopolitical
but
looking for magic
from bl.uk/events
its flat
its all gone flat
i found a plane
where its all A4
i chase my toilet roll tail
in a line drawing of a room
maybe its this weird tea
or more ordinary sickness
but
its
all
2D
today
call the dr
call an architect
to unfuck
my bad origami
~
i put on
one of them
black discs
with the
mountainous grooves in
put it on
with hands like veneer
like potato peel
and its anything but flat now
and
something alive
heavy like meat
is
climbing
my
spine
and i wince
and it all bursts out
into a painting
in the air
~
its
torn up
folded up
opened out
into
unicorns
and
flying cranes
its the cathedral for everyone
real as hearts and farts
invisible music
and
bonhams
drums
from famousfix.com
i
wanted
to
say
its so strange what you miss
when its taken away
and
i wanted to make jokes
about
Everything
all
day
but
Everything is strange today
too noon-lit 2D for play
and
my
jokes
flat
and in the way
of
honest troubled family folks
just
working
for
pay
from www.dreamstime.com
