Worldly Decisions Yet Matter

I’m not holographically, sound
again the
shrapnel of told-what-to-do-policy

all takes its own
membrane-unfolding, a piece of paper
showcase of gold

behind the gold
teeth in the encyclopedia
biting history in half
its guts run
the world until no
world found, obliged
to step around corners of the world
found into their absence, we

stand tall as trees
between these clumps of air-holes
and bubble-froth ticking-masters, shovel

castanet asides to reveal
afterthought-ancients non-replicating
sunlight, non-

delineated dilation tollbooths, un
raveling show-vault threaded
to dial tone, unshrouded

and naked we laugh


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