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12 The kind of line I’m describing when a tissue is severed is to count heads when we were dying to speak of what, as opposed to art, between excess of image or a towel to soak the mess I made, this udder-glove blemishing, the television static in the perforated city is a circle drawn around the aftermath which is a wax museum’s prophylactic limb the deep-reader diving into a cluster of life forms and body parts like barbed wire a witness to half of what I should have said. Red ribbon by the demagogues, this suspended breath in place of nature and love’s lubricant between the grip of death. 13 From examined blood to minds that fail when the gerunds of becoming speak the imperatives of publicity. delight. be hungry. live all the ones you want to. ...


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