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Ars Poetica

Science, I’m playing your game.

You have won.
(backed by)Feeling(backed by)Hunch(backed by)Concept(backed by)Hypothesis
(backed by)
Evidence
and your rule of law.
Within the span of hours we calculated, quite precisely, the amount of humanity left to poetry.
What? It took no time at all. The easiest scientific discovery: No one cares, anymore.
“The emotional history of our time”, is what we are left with.
And no one cares for the details of your Saturday night. We’re far too concerned
with the details of our own Saturday night.
Play possum. Play not-dead not-irrelevantĀ and be irrelevant.
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ONCE THE MEMORY OVERTAKES YOU…

ONCE THE MEMORY OVERTAKES YOU SURRENDER CALM CURRENTS ROUGH OCEANS PIOUS GRAVES WALK THROUGH CLOUDS

 

of vapor haze; but liquid

 

 

 

 

 

 

first drunk punching through cellophane tin foil chicken wire and then sorry sarcasm joy sorry regret understanding, regret