I saw a telephone booth the other day.
strange, seeing it’s accordion door, artifact of time
landline to a recent past.
quickly checking, making sure there wasn’t
a dimensional time shift,
as these things are bound to happen, according to modern theories
just another silver door that holds no coin.
Edging the event, on the horizon
bits swim upstream, lounging on heated rocks
connective tissue paper thin memory
Once said somewhere, by someone worth remembering
freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you
time here, is strange, a carnival ride of free assimilation
biochemical inputs penetrating imaginary membranes
raining manna from the pool above
mutable structures swan dive, cutting, splash-less
into recognizable realities.
I saw a telephone booth the other day,
it was part of a movie set, real, out of place, freely existing
on the corner confidently mocking
the parsonage of time.
artwork: Oils HA! 2008 from the Monsters series “dicks last dance” Prints are available without the text, I added that for fun 🙂
Thank you for being here today <3
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