Always and again, feeling
your way into things.
They
linger, they tango, they
thank you, they
disregard,
they understand. What does
it look like?
Like
you don't know your
own size, the feel of
things?
You have to
get the measure of
the pleasure. Feet
on the
ground, head
in the air.
Who said that?
What is the sound
of
incomprehension?
"Mayday, mayday, may
day." So they
say. Does
what helps, sound good?
Action at a distance
in
time. At all events.
At all events captured
some. Traces
afterwards
Sounds like what? "Might
have been the
water" is
what Toni said.
Estimates, roughing out
the design captures
some.
Listening to something not said
yet is an echo
from
somewhere else.
I still can't remember the
name of
the disguise, its
title. Secrets suffice. I can
(can't)
explain it.
Officially, anyway. There are
exams to take, I
can tell
you that much. Monotonous
study, tedious
accumulation
of details. A map. Surrounding
all the
dishonesty, expressing
the fakes. Someone had to
be
disturbed or confused. Loitering
between the sun and the
Shadows.Making believe,
imagining, pretending.
"He's
pretentious," that
one. "Anybody can do
that."