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| from Counter Daemons Roberto Harrison |
¿are you the signal that another plane carves into wings in rounded contusions of a late afternoon storm, full of sparks that the night hurries out on Locust and serial cheeks shrouded in shiny costumes? ¿are you a circle like juntas that the winter makes clear on the shaved orbiting molecule that the ear revolves around, in a retreat of explosive fossils? ¿are you memorizing the connections between the hand and the foot and the torso in reverse of the automatic? ¿are you materializing the unknown without weather to increase the planet otherwise? ¿are you pocketing the insurance claims that parkas and snow equips with sutures and hand grenades? ¿forever? |
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