ruminating in a wrinkle
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Beulah - Lay Low for the Letdown

ruminating in a wrinkle

Starving romantics
Trying to make love in the existential crosswalk
Blank as a pendant
Always of or about the penchants
Where do I wake up and what will be with the journey of what’s always drawing back the head rest
We appease the life we’ve seen with used hubcaps on handrails
Tweezed out of our backs, tweezed out of our packs
And everything says please, I love you, come right back
Mostly
While our decisions of feasibility in every long form, prays long
And in the split second ones, they bank on norms
The shortened ones in the shortness off the infinite seconds before we blow our horns
And in defense of infinite display, a hangout, a foray, and all of a sudden, the exit spillway of a maze into a thousand more ways

candy switches ingredients and packaging a thousand times in every second we observe

the unwanted help
the fart in the felt
i thought of how air heads must come out of 
the conveyor belt like a fan, fluctuating the air
helping everyone to the right level of not needing any other words to be there
and modern day, internet way, there
they were
fanned out in front of the photo board
however this aware
this is a block of stone to keep the foundation symmetrical to the air

no switch? priority switch? minority hall. transformative long hall? if life is a dish? it’s still utensil and object.

no switch? priority switch? minority hall. transformative long hall? if life is a dish? it’s still utensil and object.

"Every ultimate fact is only the first of a new series. Every general law only a particular fact of some more general law presently to disclose itself. There is no outside, no inclosing wall, no circumference to us. The man finishes his story,—how good! how final! how it puts a new face on all things! He fills the sky. Lo, on the other side rises also a man and draws a circle around the circle we had just pronounced the outline of the sphere. Then already is our first speaker not man, but only a first speaker. His only redress is forthwith to draw a circle outside of his antagonist. And so men do by themselves. The result of to-day, which haunts the mind and cannot be escaped, will presently be abridged into a word, and the principle that seemed to explain nature will itself be included as one example of a bolder generalization. In the thought of to-morrow there is a power to upheave all thy creed, all the creeds, all the literatures of the nations, and marshall thee to a heaven which no epic dream has yet depicted. Every man is not so much a workman in the world as he is a suggestion of that he should be. Men walk as prophecies of the next age." 
- Ralph Waldo Emerson -Circles

grooves that leave wiring grounds
an appliance floats up and then floats down
appliance floats up and then floats on
the cord one hand tugs
the hands that have not been grasped to shake
the fling towards a ring drawn inside a circle of pen
we all abuse what gravitates around the siphons of our heads
each flower of a hole with each a solar system of collective soul besieged to somewhat of a telescopic row
and all we owe is making dishes the substance of wishes, and pushing crashes and clash backwards to the past
as long as its in order of pragmaticising what we’d rather not conspire with’s “happen so fast”
unjust is a cloud that’s afloat in the noise that’s clacking
when we don’t give anyone credit for much
and a pin up is a pin dropped
we’ll be grasping fruits, all kinds, call them plums and figs
and the frig of what should please stop stomping
and that we live, we’re spinning and wanting
aiming for something better than a rose
at the doorhinge of what we suppose
I try to spend my time at the drawbridge clauses, of that which is plaused

a fortune cookie’s reading hand into my nook and cranny
the cold shoulder of a nihilist beach
i think of frisbees on feet when i try to beckon you to flux
it’s like i was told “you’ll get lost but i’ll be like this”
or more likely that i’m disposed to being a box driving a box

everybody’s sitting on the beach next to batteries

canister railing
banister handling
our teeth are calcium
deposits of our own personal stockpile and a drawer full of apologies
a nod of acknowledgment to a sense screwed right off the threads


dredging days
as the soda trucks have flattened down
are we for a shallow
even when this underfound?
i hope the cancel dress’s biggest architecture isn’t mothballs
i guess we all want keys to the starting gates
not a race, would it be a whirlwind, recording glaze?
is respect in place?
is this every single way?
text messages between some infinite and scattered
while locked tight in substance crates 
what even, right? is a phase?

Ataxia - The Sides
13 plays

Ataxia - The Sides