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Proseful Poetics: “Hot-glue gun” March 21, 2005

Posted by Matt Hurst in Uncategorized.
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Another instalation piece torn into fragments
Collective parts scattered by beasts carniverous
The porcelin construction means little in its shards
and I am the pieces – bound and broken.

Its a goddamn three-ring circus in this diner today
The coffeemaker is broke, and so too the customers
Talking about life support, supposing the decision were theirs
and I am the clown – run over by bulls.

Put a quarter in the jukebox to drown the sound of the TV
Noise pollution abounding over top of overheard conversations
Proto-punk gutteral guitars on a blown speaker on its last gasp
and I am the player – strummed and strung.

In this toxic environment I am the mutant of the 90s
We have magically teleported back into the mind-set
Of soccer moms, heroin overdoses, and baseless economics
and I am the -Mart – tagged and scanned.

The air tickles the culture of your throat and heart murmurs
Designer animals dance in the long arcade over censored lyrics
And in a moment you could collaspe into black-coffee sigularity
and I am the data – set and charted.

Independant variables set up to corrupt in this poor experiement
The scientific method lost to ideology against all logic
And I appear to be the aberition on their agenda
and I am the premise – cold and shakey.

As I fell off the display this warm spring morning
Through the glass case and on to the floor exhibit space
I wondered if it was all just a nightmare or a vision
and I am the dream – asleep and dead.

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Comments»

1. thinkpink178 - March 21, 2005

you goddamn literary genious, you.


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