Maze of the Middle-Aged Manhattan Man

Coordinating disparately physical appurtenances –
arms and teeth and tongue and hair and groin and knees –
meshing secret autonomic systems with volitionally

biological uncertainties: managing to be the body you
appear to have to be despite the matter-free exorbitantly
insubstantial dream you have of your imagined essence:

thus to try thereby to oversee the large phenomenon
of that collective state of what you sometimes find
you cannot not refer to trepidatiously as “me” –

the Condoleezza-Rice-ness of the thing! – where
inexplicable negotiations stand to bring about a global
shattering: here’s what not to not prepare to do today –

you ranging strange cacophony: you object of your own
subjective scrutiny: you wandering collusion of refusal
and extremity – make sure you’re near somewhere to pee.


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