the rhythm of slippage etc.

dis/lo/ca/tion a turtle up a tree a trainload of bees

certain only I / wasn’t where I’ve been
and now back again am/stand somewhere between
nowhere and my right hand, bruised (ah the generalitiesies

all reports say I was there, wearing white

half or less me easy and in pieces / palimpsest.
:: rewritten to the point of / translucence.
a boat on its back, content. of a nothing

e-cho. I am in no phot-os. in the rest, teeth. heaps
of overlappeople, exhibit X or B. a good time had by all.

know]]] it’s the matter around atoms that binds us
:: the gggaps :: lock me in this body like recess
follows lunch for third graders bully me down

[horse into shoe [rock into rubber [here