“Stop! You must curtail your bizarre behavior,” says the man with the stick, “You really must,” he says adjusting his hat. But, he’s not talking to me, he’s talking to the creature we become— in the stretch back to the first realm. “Adjust behavior and commiserate elsewhere,” says the fat man “You really must,” he says poking the creature’s chest. The creature, call us Communion, howls indignant turns back to the wall— string dangling from our slippery hands. “Non-compliance is unacceptable,” shouts the rigid man, “Unacceptable and you must stop,” he shouts and we pay em no mind We are disconnected from that world, there is only blood here and glue and string— this creation nothing else. Poem | Podcast Episode Link | Archive Item | YouTube

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