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Sargent's Daughters, New York

Whenever I heard: 

save space by optimizing storage

I thought:

a new syndrome for guest users

a trial and error

a philosopher’s fantasy


Those are the kinder kind of lies we used to

emulate to self-medicate with anhydrous



But like all the other tetrachromate dissociators

who comply to digest

I fell for the sonic hues that again and again

are only begging for our rot


I zoned out and found myself staring at something

that had emerged to burrow:

Feel better, fail better

Better to rejoice in illusory descent

then to disambiguate with vitalist excrescences


There's no need to beware of the ninth wave

Befriend your Cambrian trauma, 

your Devonian shutdown

There's a secret code for it

A mere ritual of planetary orchestration

which resists even the most honest gaze


What counts for passing?

I wonder


I dreamt of a kiss embedded in the concrete

And then, a sea of Petric saliva

Soon, hear the nacreous jaw, crawling through,

sleeping not

Fake it 'til you'll never make it in time

I overheard

They’re in their abyssal era without a clue

A lazy formulation

a node to alkaline nostalgia

a Freudian dead zone


Take it off, all of it

Aqueous slippage like a pocket of bliss

CO2 + H2O -> (H+) + (HCO3-)

Your disk is almost full


Flickering: shut, open, shut, open, open, open, shut

When will the eyes crystallize too?

We did what we were told and we put our shells on acid


A tender plot of ruination murmured in a sinusoid footnote

Aragonite and proteins, queering

too busy unbeing dead

shapeshifting manically on the bathyal dancefloor


As we approach the dysphotic zone

abrasive echolalia is my favourite response

Dissolve, dissolve, dissolve, dissolve


All there is left to do

is lay low and love

amidst the raving benthos

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