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

Posted by Matt Hurst in Uncategorized.

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.



1. thinkpink178 - March 21, 2005

you goddamn literary genious, you.

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