Thursday, September 8

get up, look

there's tar in the cupboard, tar in the cracks, tar seeping up out of the ground, tar pooling under your head at night and caked on your face

can't you stop it

the world comes to you out of order and in frames and from overhead like stage lights

the world comes to you in frames and tar coursing through the frames connects the frames and everything looks like a shadow and tar covers everything

there's a light, look close

look close, and a microscopic figure fucks an access of light between the threads of the curtain and casts a shadow life-size upon the opaque air

the shadow inhales tar and dies

the shadow says

it's cool

don't worry

and the shadow dies

everything you touch turns into tar

light pours out of your head and casts a shadow from your face and the shadow is tar

the world is a shadow cast by the world

the world inhales you and you are tar and the world is shit

a microscopic figure says

the world is shit

and dies

and the curtain swells and the auditorium floods with tar and everybody fucks themselves into a shadow now

but the shadow of a light is still a light

and the tar courses on like shit in patient, methodical sewers

you sink in shit and shit sinks in tar

everything sinks into tar

everything that happens happens with enormous force & presence and this pushes further down into a pit of tar

and in the east you rose the sun and at noon you turned the sun into shit and in the west there is only tar

there is only tar

and light

light coming from the middle of you

which casts a shadow

from every other part of you

and the shadow says

the world is shit

the shadow says the world is in the inexhaustible complexity of everything & the ineludible dissimilarity of anything

the world is in patterns & the patterned failure of description & the fertility of unfathomable error

the world is in infinite evasions

the shadow says and the shadow kills you and you die

you fucked the world and the world fucked you and the world was enormous

and only tar remains

lit dimly, eerie, like a dream


gamefaced said...

creation in chaos a bleak crumble under all.

sarah san said...


sarah san said...

i just love ur writing.