I stuck my
head in the oven
to see what Sylvia
had been cooking
one whiff of that gas and
my body was ash was
naked in the snow
deciding whether to
shuffle silently
or die
on the wire
but then
darkness eclipsed everything
the kind of
everything will be forgotten
darkness where
consciousness
if it shrink not
down to the size of
a piece of atom
(part of the
great tart in
the
design of
some unquestionable pie)
can park itself for the rest of the experiment
for the curvature of space
to go fully Möbius
and this just
the crust
waiting (so slow
to rise) on
infinitely better time.
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