#353 The Art of Living

The rave was all that
was promised. Music in
various colors, smoke
of various sorts, a
subsequent disconnect

between limbs & mind —
while at the same time
both feel amazingly
intertwined. Living in
La La Land isn't
art, it is artifice.

#352 [Untitled]

We have seen parts
of this before. The

sleeper in his capsule
hotel, dreams keeping

him suspended above
a familiar meteorite

from which the
landscape stays its

distance, in thrall to
the gravitational pull.

#351 Total: 0

                        Having been told that 
              the next digital revolution
                            would come about by
                    finding a cornerstone to 

                            act as a key to decode 
                        your name, then trans-
                                posing those numbers
                     onto your face so as to 

                    explore your relationship 
                             with your spirit animal,
                         Magritte tried it out &
                           came up with nothing.

#350 The Connivance (2)

Today was the
day I’d put aside
for Patagonian tooth-
fish, but overfishing
by illegal longliners
has rendered them
commercially extinct

so all I can
do now
is cast
some
short
lines
into

the ocean & re-
mind them they
probably would have
lasted longer if
they'd continued
to be known as
Chilean Sea Bass.

#349 Wreckage of the Shadow

Renaissance is alive &
thriving this year. No-
thing else to touch it for
style or energy. Disassembled
birds—hallucinatory, peri-

lous as a minefield—set
faces to grimace, then set
out to create epic doom
metal albums from flat
unpolished non-metal

surfaces that carry no
images of the world
around yet still reflect
the importance of set-
ting up a mise-en-scène.

#348 The Discovery of Fire (3)

a bass horn catches alight
a bass hor   atches a  gh
a bas  h r    tc es a  g
  bas  h       c es
   as  h         es

#347 La Part du Feu

In no particular
order, the clues are
a carrot, an egg, &
a glass of some un-
known liquid, vin
or vinegar, it's not
clear. In no particular
order, raindrops keep
falling from the ceil-

ing, a candle halos
but provides no light —
though an external
light source casts a
compressed shadow
of the housekeeper on
to the carpet. In no part-
icular order, Hercule
Poirot, as played by

David Suchet —who
isn't — is dead, the
housekeeper main-
tains not a vigil but
a pretense of life
within the room, hard
to tell if the egg is
hard-boiled, easy to
see the detective isn't.

#346 Popular Panorama

Escheresque. Is there
such a word? The top
definition of crapaud,
a word characterized by

explorations of infinity,
architecture, & tessel-
lation, is toad or frog.
Jigsaw pieces as far as

the eye can see. Each
is folded in half & the
folded edges are placed
together. Hidden in

the basement, remixed
with a forest, & topped by
the sea. Visible from a t-
shirt. Fit for a paradox.

#345 Le Palais des Souvenirs

This hotel should be shut down.
Blood keeps dripping on to

the bathroom floor, so much
of it it spills over & stains the

mesa which it rides above. A

man in a car outside our rooms

plays Mexican music at high
volume until well after mid-

night. When I complain, he
brings me funeral flowers.

#344 Memory (2)

The apple has
    rolled down the 
        bas-relief & left a 
            stain. Or maybe the 
                sculpture has wept
                    tears of blood &

                    dried them with 
                the apple. I can't 
            recall what really
       happened. Perhaps 
    a sip of water might 
refresh my memory.

#343 The Revealing of The Present

The present is a house that
has only windows. A thin
roof. No rooms. The sun
is cut in half by a cloud
passing across its face, re-

calling Bunuel. Is that a
pond with flowers in it? I
walk down to pick some,
carry them inside. The past is
a finger testing &/or tasting

the light. Elsewhere a cloud
passes across the moon. The
present is a vase of flowers in-
side a house surrounded by a
garden made foggy by autumn.