12 September 2025
yeah, sure, if only i could feel
like it’s
unlimited, people’s gaze on my skin, the little skin i show
unlimited its sound is in my clothes and its tiny murmurs as air
passes over – it could just as easily be tuesday, just
as tediously, any tuesday, any skin, anybody’s skin, i
feel the unlimitedness of it, like a mathematical symbol pregnant
with meaning until you are initiated and then it collapses
like the unlimited litres i drive, the unlimited lies, the oil
thrums from the ground to enhance the air with
a superfluity of what many call greenhouse gases but i call
increased disorder – also it could be wednesday, or
any day, really, that does it to my skin but said skin does not feel
responsible, neither do my teeth nor my ears nor my
cerebellum – i know you have a cerebellum – it helps me
balance, i hope it helps you balance, too, because the
commodity’s unreal, the psychopath is calm, the skin-
control machine’s as cool as signing’s hot, and you’re its sign
so get your reality ahead of yourself and head it round, just
do it now