yes I will cultivate within me scrupulously the Inimitable

which is Loneliness

and from that (_____).... !

zing a thin gold string…

in the quiet I’ll spin some dreams

pull a slim thread from within,

coil its copper whorl, quivering 


I will hold discs of manna on my tongue, 

polish them with my matted braids, and laughing, 

string them alongside those lucid arcs 

where celestial bodies collide and time comes unwoven-


déjà vu :: origami unfolded 


could have been a dandelion or a firework, 

or maybe a mashed potato 


but my blood blossoms here &

now I’ll ovulate sparkle and fade

(opaque between soupy expanses of time-space) 


I’ll live & die & sign-my-name, 






            \ yep. 


            (what happened???)

& that's all there is to it. 

th_Eroses is a contemporary art website dedicated to film photography, cinema, poetry, internet performance, behavioral choreography, and art critical theory.