PLANTED
let me just
parachute this one
into your lap
(hopefully it won’t
boomerang
back
to haunt me)
was thinking, about
to spout out, that life
seemed to me
a closed loop, a single-sided
infinitely paradoxical
Möbius strip
copying art
for all
it is worth
not that we have art, as a
practice, as a serious
life strategy
at all in
our society (if
you can call it a society)
them
shutting down the libraries
opening up
the food banks
you can get your whole
life on credit, sell
your organs back
I heard this idiot argue that
life is not media, is not
reality program
how quickly
they pulled his plug
smoothly shut him down
as our host for the evening
broke fourth wall to tell us:
television is reality, books
the dead competition,
all your ideas — none
original —
such
is our
surveillance
those that were not planted
we have heard them before