can a marionette get bored of dancing? wouldn't you much rather be suspended from the strings of some wayward kite headed for the river bank at the edge of some other better world? who first thought to conceal the pillowing folds of flesh beneath the billowing cotton of a shirt? who first discovered where water went when left to fend for itself in the light? why is it that catastrophy comes nightly on silent wings then careens into the brilliance of the day atop the clattering boxcars of some shimmering screaming train? how can i keep declining its invitation into the infinite? weaving webs of violent passion in the corners god forgets to sweep, kitestrings and puppet strings create a life of their own invention- behind the tedious three dimensional design, have you seen? between wreathes of galaxies that will forever endure, where do the spaniards and soviets wait to seduce us? could anyone point me in the direction du jour?
I really liked this too!! I like the marionette, the kite, "pillowing folds of flesh/beneath the/billowing cotton of a shirt" and so on....
