"In the afternoon heat, one feels language losing its ability to restore presence, becoming a form of administration of a traumatic, irreducible absence. Perhaps it is time for a return to the Economy of the Unlost." —@dreamsofbeing.bsky.social
2027 Nobel Prize in Literature.
worldlines i only intersect
as the seagull dips
bill to mail, marl caked
on the mismatched hubcap
so little it would take—
cars honk behind me
lowered electric window
along surd's worldline


No comments:
Post a Comment