A pretzel? No. An apple? Better. A brick?!
It would seem the most extremely
heightened anticipation appears
to diminish the capacity to imagine, which descends
ever deeper, it despairs of coming up
with a worthy object. Are you putting
it into outer space?
I’m sitting on it.
Are you recycling it?
I’m repurposing myself.
The brightest stars are the knowledge industry.
Our bodies’ bodies on the moon’s moon.
May 26, 1990, 02:40, at 3300 m, circling Wroclaw.