Guave
I stroll down into elevators, stale bodies tied in to the walls -- I may need to illuminate some of their muttering. I use a NEO GUAVA as an interpreting device today, decode and translate is ON. Stubborn languages i have to take out, take apart, photograph with this here trusted camera, to snap shots of the larva hidden on their lips there. The smell around the transistors (may they be considered, a multiple offense under these lines~) The door of the elevator opens on the 25th floor, some of the bodies unhook from the walls, leave, and some bodies drag their feet, enter. Almost seems like they move with each of my breaths.
The flies piss me off~ As risen, we are sent as an unformed group, through TV segments, spun into at last shows up on shelves, the local grocers carry us, as a TV dinner brand, with my faces on the pack, and the bodies fly eaten faces behind me.. With little adds around us for mashed potatoes, and pepper. Lots of pepper. People are at home right now, lined up at their dinner trays, watching this show we are doing in this elevator, eating mashed potatoes out of a box. I am in the den eating mashed potatoes with pepper, and looking around and seeing me on the elevator, So, i take another direction. I looks at the carpet the many pre designed flowers woven there. I watch now, the cracks in the elevator fill with ants and flies and caterpillars~
Forget the feathers in the stairway, the view of the lake from above, the elevator goes up, the watchtower over the lake, an escalator to that place, where people jump into the water.
A sample of simulated present entanglement. The number three went before two in a child's preschool class~ Now, i am with them, the children from floor #2.
I imagine a thief lingers in the leaves. I ignore all of the children loudly boarding the elevator. Grampa eats some mashed potatoes and drops a bit on his TV dinner tray.
I am holding a circuit board in my hands, I wrap my fingers loosely around it, and hold it up to my chest.
We hear a bird in the chimney, and grandpa mutters, grumbles. My sister laughs. On the TV rockets take off over the screen. I am feeling a fever, as I board a rocket in my space suit, my sister and grandpa wave from the crowd. We Ride on in stamina, me and a chimpanzee, named Susan. This place in here is a blob of origami, the way they made the walls. I see from my TV dinner tray placed before me on the couch, that I am riding in an origami rocket across a painted on background of space. In the show I take off my suit and board the elevator, to the bottom of the ship. This time the elevator operates using skateboards, powered by yelling and shouting actresses.
Everyone breaks out in song and dance, holding flower pots, doing circles on the ship. The origami rocket passes around the moon. Circles the earth, and the children board from floor #2 and join the parade. They hold up big red circles above their heads, and shout they want to touch red dots in their vision.
Above us, on board, the waterfall of our mysterious ancestors, covers the rocket. The ship circling. I hang upside down with my monkey Susan, eating our dinner out of my hat. Grandpa climbs outside, to a kid in the yard, grandpa climbs with the kid into the old tree, the tree in our yard with human fingers along it, that the tree uses to lift the kid and grandpa through beads and ribbons and rivers of jar lids with pink string.
I stroll down into elevators, stale bodies tied in to the walls -- I may need to illuminate some of their muttering. I use a NEO GUAVA as an interpreting device today, decode and translate is ON. Stubborn languages i have to take out, take apart, photograph with this here trusted camera, to snap shots of the larva hidden on their lips there. The smell around the transistors (may they be considered, a multiple offense under these lines~) The door of the elevator opens on the 25th floor, some of the bodies unhook from the walls, leave, and some bodies drag their feet, enter. Almost seems like they move with each of my breaths.
The flies piss me off~ As risen, we are sent as an unformed group, through TV segments, spun into at last shows up on shelves, the local grocers carry us, as a TV dinner brand, with my faces on the pack, and the bodies fly eaten faces behind me.. With little adds around us for mashed potatoes, and pepper. Lots of pepper. People are at home right now, lined up at their dinner trays, watching this show we are doing in this elevator, eating mashed potatoes out of a box. I am in the den eating mashed potatoes with pepper, and looking around and seeing me on the elevator, So, i take another direction. I looks at the carpet the many pre designed flowers woven there. I watch now, the cracks in the elevator fill with ants and flies and caterpillars~
Forget the feathers in the stairway, the view of the lake from above, the elevator goes up, the watchtower over the lake, an escalator to that place, where people jump into the water.
A sample of simulated present entanglement. The number three went before two in a child's preschool class~ Now, i am with them, the children from floor #2.
I imagine a thief lingers in the leaves. I ignore all of the children loudly boarding the elevator. Grampa eats some mashed potatoes and drops a bit on his TV dinner tray.
I am holding a circuit board in my hands, I wrap my fingers loosely around it, and hold it up to my chest.
We hear a bird in the chimney, and grandpa mutters, grumbles. My sister laughs. On the TV rockets take off over the screen. I am feeling a fever, as I board a rocket in my space suit, my sister and grandpa wave from the crowd. We Ride on in stamina, me and a chimpanzee, named Susan. This place in here is a blob of origami, the way they made the walls. I see from my TV dinner tray placed before me on the couch, that I am riding in an origami rocket across a painted on background of space. In the show I take off my suit and board the elevator, to the bottom of the ship. This time the elevator operates using skateboards, powered by yelling and shouting actresses.
Everyone breaks out in song and dance, holding flower pots, doing circles on the ship. The origami rocket passes around the moon. Circles the earth, and the children board from floor #2 and join the parade. They hold up big red circles above their heads, and shout they want to touch red dots in their vision.
Above us, on board, the waterfall of our mysterious ancestors, covers the rocket. The ship circling. I hang upside down with my monkey Susan, eating our dinner out of my hat. Grandpa climbs outside, to a kid in the yard, grandpa climbs with the kid into the old tree, the tree in our yard with human fingers along it, that the tree uses to lift the kid and grandpa through beads and ribbons and rivers of jar lids with pink string.
FIN SORREL runs mannequin haus. He is the author of CARAMEL FLOODS (pski porch, 2017) and SAND LIBRARY POEMS (Alien buddha Press, 2018)