the everyday walls surrounding
him
fell away
either peeling off like bitter
brown onionskin
or the shabby work of wallpaperers
or stock painters bent on
turning a quick buck
he got it
he worked around them longer
than he cared he saw them at their habit
and stood
aside as they staggered and
pitched relentlessly through the finishwork
reeking of chemicals daubed in
paint
smearing their vapid IQs on
house walls and ceilings
sometimes the walls containing
him became elaborate origami and he thrilled
at their
concise deconstruction
their mad fluttering
like happy butterflies or serious moths at evenings
electric lights
then by himself wherever
he was
he was fascinated by the presence
of crowding umbre the sometimes
abrupt gulfs their rarified colour yellows roses mauves black and whites
he listened to or absorbed the holy
thoughts and memories of anxious faceless harlots
rogues beggars frantic animals
elements hosts and inanimates
crazed cartoons and
unspooling wires of words and
random letters disembodied music
he pulled up his skirt crossed
his knees wiped his nose on his sleeve and took their
dictation reams upon reams seeking to make heads or tails of them or sense
later
or leafe as non-sense exquisite
subterfuge
no
lies no
truth IS
and afterwards whenever that was
before his wide-astonished
eyes
a raucous clatter of
resurrection a mechanical whine healing walls
and he peering
like a voyeur between chemical
lattice and seizing seams watched thin
strands adhere
spider silks binding compounds congeal
then Shuttered
helplessly returned
1748, Saturday,
17 8. 13
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