the weight of those great decisions and
the trick of how to know how to thrive
—maybe add a photo to the post—
bubbling black bile and moldering plans
of, yes, I suppose I’ve lost you now
so let’s check in on the detective
and those spotty hands maundering
among our dark drawers and under things
—thump—a quick novel sensation—a dense
syrup in the major muscles—
half a conversation running along
without us then gone, back to slow
daylight grumbling nasty thoughts what can I
exploit from that dismal green land
Tag: detective
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before the stone had splintered the
skull, I knew I’d gone too far. I
adore these tiny flowers, but
no one owns them, and then the great
detective, all those fine speeches,
reversals, triple meanings. No
wonder most only stand and wait
by the fire gulping down amber
Then in a moment it’s resolved
and all that tension as the speech
slowly built its trap and found its
treasure as it ever did and
then tea and cakes and time and in
some time, time, flowers, a stone, and
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the famous detective has asked
that we gather though he claims there
is at present no one to blame
in the meantime that cabin in
the charming old forest is back
on the market at a discount
once we cared so deeply about living
in one of the smoother simulations
but the mood ambles off and who
knows what unwanted updates next
season will force on us though we
are trained in forgetting and so run off
with some fresh simulacrum and
redeem our last stars to clothe it
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From the Loathsome Autobiography of an Aspiring Hermit
we were all impressed that he had trained himself to overcome the sweating and fits that accompanied riding the elevator to the top floor where all those who helped you get to where you can finally hide the body in peace once you return those calls but really there’s nothing out there but the occasional chirp the grinding
sound of some industry in the distance that we all struggle to identify and some vague concern about retirement which tends to stay asleep except during certain phases of the moon in early autumn before the serious shopping starts and we depart for one day the air goes out and not every part of us is of use and of course those unseen forces you
go on about we peel off and set to one side to admire the fine and final finial detail but then we risk wandering past the border of our little park where we make miniature watercolor landscapes to please the passerby no matter how full of rage or foreboding before retiring once more to the dark closet with the machine that spits out hot air though today even that might be welcome as we question every word
choice and how many bodies we’re inhabiting while we wait for a more immediately impressive one to leap to the lips and be able to sing clear in the narrow streets where we wasted our youth on such games as need not be mentioned here though we remain softly pleased that its secretions were not the same as those found by the famous detective or his brother for that matter
other animals 