Containers
Howmanywordscanyoufitintoatinyspace,itsunnaturaltosqueezeweAmericansneedour(manifestdestiny) space. Wecrushourwordslikecarsinscrapyardcubesofmeaningbullionforastewamelange(ameltingpot)offlavors(mynipplesexplodewithdelight?).Flavorsunique,richwhen (just add water) they can expand expansively, worlds contained in pinpoints. A cosmos that (bill-ions and billions) contains a star a hole prodded through thick black paper that is a wish hope dream. A toothy menace. A verbal slight. A means to return to normalcy. Mundanity. An exercise in futility like a baby’s smile across a sea of gray sludge a compactedplanetsmashedintoeverdecreasingfieldsofvisionlushwithmutation. A normal return (soft, what light through yonder window breaks (?)) to form a stolid smile, a stoic stance a love more ordinary. Complacent hearts. Wouldn’t it be. nice. to. b.r.e.a.k/things u…p, SHAKE aro(d)(a)(n)(c)(e)und your grimace, shrink things down or blow THEM UP. ENLARGE THEM soourbodiesaren’t so perpetuallyconfined(nowheretoruntobaby). Such an intricate world, a spiral intertwined within itself, our eyes locked into a telescope looking both inwards and out into space. But we forgot to grow legs, wings – adapt –
s (with a) o (flotilla of) a (mounded clouds) r.
evolve. Ourfacesesaresmogfromflashinglightandshinybuttons (all red and candied) wepateachother on the back while we smile twistingtheknifeintoourfuture’sribs. But I digress. This wasn’t a diatribetowardsourproblemsthis. Was [an exploration] of how words really w-o-r-k, of how space effects perception and I’ve failed. I might as well swallow any pride in mashed potato lumps to my head and return to normalcy (is there really such a place?). Thanks.for.playing.along.with.the.home.game.}
: andy l. kubai : writer : 