Sunday, August 3, 2025

Here is Heaven

A vast underground system

A vat of potted ingrown hairs obliterated to plastic in an air fryer left on for the duration of electricity

A network of therapeutic experiences subsumed under the guise of a wellness spa

Nothing bad happens here

Ruin being very close to transformation

Movement happens in one direction

Sensations are projected upon technical planes of composition, materials ascend toward sensation, material becomes sensation:

    Drivingly chug forward on the right foot before catching the weight on the left foot flatly allowing the right heel to kickstand the rest of the headier weight before driving the left fist behind to cause the abdomen to throw the entire body into an exalted preparation for a jump that opens itself to the back of the room, the left palm open and right hand reacting to the melodic air, the monophonic refrain––

All of this happens in one direction

Everyone is specific, and this is ethical

A balmy breeze blows through your outstretched hand

Untrodden and unchewed your hand

Your hand which is also our hand

A beautiful lesbian takes your order

As you settle into your personalized experience

All creatures are willing to wait that intractable duration

For your eyes to become more listening than thinking

Your whimsy is lauded and has broken into the contemporary art market

You have an assistant who is in a happy and stable relationship and has never once thought of fucking you

Your hair is white, becoming that way at one point in time

All of your friends were born

And exist now, with you

The door to your house opens automatically using sensors tuned to your scent

You can turn on and off at will your pheromones

Desire coexists peacefully with love

You live an integrated life––shadow and not-shadow

There are no phones, there is no internet

And yet you receive millions of likes on your Instagram posts

Your stories are valued at over one million dollars

The characters, the psychosocial models

You create them 

And they interact with you 

Of their own accord

You are that interesting.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Bachelard in a dream

––Did I ever tell you about the will?       It's literally the reason I went on meds. ––When I first heard that refrain I was in a house...