As it put on a spurt towards fucking off the sun fast approached the maritime horizon upon which a mound of cumulungus clouds were stacked. Today’s orb would be obscured prematurely and the temperature, too, plunge with it; he turned around to walk back to base while the orange still shone on the puff of his back. The speakers that lined the seaside played don’t look back in anger rendered in piano. While he paced in long strides swinging his molluscoid arms, couldn’t help but look back to the sun much like a dog taken away from its bone. Finally his mobile device went black and he froze mid-stride into a pillar of double-helix salt.

 that perfume of blinding sadness from a medium other than photography is still present

seesaw

 whatever it was that i saw in the mirror, saw me

 You already know my thought before I think it.

The speed of your love is greater even than that of light.

 he refused to teach there, for the hearts at the ivy league were plagued with ambition

the volume had aged beautifully. The pages resembled and smelled like oven-fresh madeleine, their edges browned to sweet perfection.

 He wrapped her hand around his biceps much like an armband. He drank his milk from the glass, which left a white moustache in the shape of ditto.

with synchronization of inidcated time

maybe the world is like homogenized milk

incessant ringing of the deceased's phones

i would no longer be 37 then, strapped in my seat as the 777 maneuvered around Russian airspace, towards the coming sunrise   

the new generation:

one utz flavor replaced shrimp crackers, steamy hopang and pizza sticks

the quality of the wine, don’t mention

meal portion reduced by a third

one thing to look forward to was another cigarette with ___ one day at another sundown across the skypiercers

where they do not believe that all popes since st peter, including peter, are illegitimate

you spawn onto a verdant clearing. in every direction through a vast veil of fog see nothing but the trees in the distance. still air don't conduct sound. it's all muted. no sooner does the silence shoot shivers down your spine than you realize that you are deaf.

tripe-shaped clouds

gordal olives

cute vehicles of destruction

the stench of blood in a cab to her hairdresser made us green

clips of her hair were perfectly crescent as they dried on resin

no will to posterity remained fleeting 

 

the plastics reflected homo of their producers 

 you rolled your eyes to the heavens

autumn winds fleece 

the space foliage in sway 

the sun twinkles

inscrutable signals

 my love love who i will become

 each born

none killed

all dead

last  mosquito on thy lips 

 태평양 에서 보세

The desktop clock, which is shaped like a clock tower, has been around for as long as I can remember. Last fall when I last visited here it had malfunctioned, and he asked me to fix it, change the battery. 

The clock had all but stopped again; here again, alone, in my parents' home, I search for another AA. The second needle of this paltry clockwork starts to tick again after the replacement, as though his room resumes life. 

His desk faces out the eastern window. In the distance is the shore, where the sun or the moon sometimes rises. The view he loved so well. The many photos he took, posted, sent to me via messenger. I have a collection of these photos from throughout the seasons and the years.

Those who rely on the angels a little too often. I disembodied my father from his suffering body if because his faculty to verbalise his interiority had become irretrievable. Now the alternative timelines are as relentless as the toss and turn when the night befalls sleepless upon me. I am become the sea of remorse.

Stone the mirror of the matrices that have spawned my being into his life, as I am unable to rescue him from the confines of life support. Instead curse myself out of it all. To indulge in all the earthly delights that he is deprived of as he lies in hospital bed not unlike I used to the very first days on Earth. In a diaper with my spine against gravity, away from the sun, away from the cypress and the soil. Months since he had tasted anything but the sterile stench and dried disease hour after hour. The pandemic measures still in place; no visitors but the sole nurse, a duty I relieved myself after 30 hours, for my convenience and the livelihood of some unconscionable wage worker. 

Life without Music. Delicacies. Soothing fragrances. Without family. His last days were deprived of all that made who he had been. Nobility, mobility, sweet tooth, books, internet, eye for the celestial bodies, the voices of his own family. 

My striving for extraordinary life is now reduced to the lay and the vulgar. Like most of you, whom I despise for your indolence and poverty of touching imagination. I am become like you. And here my own narcissism dissolves into self-hatred. Fuck you, I shall collapse onto you, break myself down and drown you in saltwater. 

 whatever i saw in the mirror, saw me

everyday becomes louder with cicadas in July

 Technology that named itself

Like their namesake the quotidian shapes culture. As jeans in particular are a timeless classic which makes an eternal return, they believe _______ expresses a function of their ambitious nature to become a new symbol for the past

medium specificity of not content but form

 Deep-rooted, like teeth, canine or wisdom, beyond the order of men and of control.

 Survived by light

 보는 눈은 있어 가지고 

For the children

to be free

and graceful 

magnitude in which things get smaller just got bigger 

For the children

to be free

and grateful 

 consider channels

always

when alone in want of company

let brain connect between networks

 either write it down or don't 

no need for colors to write

to do the things only you can do

Friends? You mean my masters.

 A grain of rice jumps in place

on a cast iron

like a startled flea

 Time scale of your work

 chinese flag without hammer and sickle but a bamboo

 Where Attitudes come from

You go into a restaurant, only to be subjected to lame interactions and sub-nutritional foods that are love- and passion- less. Walk out feeling OK, at best. Your hard-earned money, ruminate on the ramifications of its circulation through and atomization in our broken system.

 A digital sundial—the clockwise and seasonal movement of the sun—but a realtime map, its center your precise location and the virtual gnomon from which the virtual shadow of the sun is cast.