Undulating malleable bands and strings and strands –
wrung and flung by forces no one understands –
colored by a chemistry as labile as psychosis –
repellent and alluring – the ambivalent hypnosis
of a dream state: rapt consciousness which locks
in for eternity into distractions, excavations, shocks
and metamorphoses: today you are spaghetti;
tomorrow you’re a cloud; and then you are confetti
on a celebrating crowd. Whatever value you have got
resides inside the pin-prick heart of this one spot
which you inhabit like some frantic germinating seed.
Whose intention is this? Whose need, whose greed?
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