Air clear as earth in space, galaxies easily appear through search-engines. One click stars easy as a toaster. Easy necessary convenient stores on every corner-of-an-urge to make a quick stop and purchase a friendly object of utility, then just like last night’s movie, finished, but without credits rolling over the corneas; a rain fall absent of water. All of it in tunnels or plastic jars. Trapped inside synthetic clouds, towers blinking red bulbs a distance surrounded by highway. 36 south taking the girls to gymnastics. Slowly closing over a shadow, breaching the sides of its whispers. Pulling a voice out of the perimeter of cotton fabric, stretching it across the side of a wall. A bandaid or an eel; the person downstairs coughs. Becoming massive with each pass of concentration. Cars. 432 Hz. 12:56. Trashed by the relics of teeth.


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