We cannot survive
polyvocal
possessions
under grey sky
the
earth seen he says wiping his mouth
it
isn't a question
can't
see through the volume
turned
down at a screen
turning
sighing
and
gathering together they could hear voices
when
he gets out
leaving
little pieces
but
she gets them
there
where
you would be
that
is something
beyond
this frame out there
nothing
calm
and whiteness
returns
the light
in
the real
he
looks up from fires
all
blown away
peripheral
vision collected males
heedlessly
accept the laws
push
into another room
shake
hands with your own media
anything
at the end of the skull sometimes looks out
sometimes
muddle each other up
something
very important laughs
intoxicated
the
face of the picture of the frame
pushes
into another out of phase
it
looks as if you would expect silence
hear
voices when he gets them all
shiny
steps to a considerable question
different
in that world
sunlight is replaced
there
are variations
blushes
bushing
semblance
on semblance
slipping
the top of the skull you look for summer
frame
pushes into the analog night
frustrating
prefer
reality
and
that is strange
the
floor
some
space all around
it
may be grown
it
is
rolled
along reconstituting memory
the
beatific dead combining themselves
in
agreeable sounds and observations
one
makes the situation he says
he
says vandalism
and
then fabricates
blowing
away movement of air
blasting
us all without going out and does not focus
sunlight
is replaced again
lights
come on to it
difficult
living here
the
original nothing
we're
projections
one
makes the situation
he
says
the
television a man
I
don't want to die
the
organ of sight does not glare
the
eye
invisible
in a small rectangle
there
all
the same
he
talks of the frame
but
out of place
and
regards me as if deliberately made
but
various
each
knot with its own little detail
i
see an injury in space
and
see its trail
we
cannot survive
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