Slubbed

Slubbed

It’s not that you should ever abandon a treasure or have beautiful collections
rather should this convoluted world of weather be reported to you by shopkeepers
you can choose threshold or enclosure beyond all the encompassing boulevards
and for reasons that you may not be able to comprehend your mind will be
rucked and fissured like a bolt of silk slung across carriageways .

Passageways:
a conglomeration of cell (or nodes) in which your plotted co-ordinates
may be subordinated to the needs of exhaust fumes, lorries, not to any joyous
alternatives to mainstream activity; street-names like a string of curses deployed
as architectural diversions

a labyrinth

where you’d, in the end, accompany nothing but riffled pages, ‘the ball of string
that you untie etc.’, feel the weight of the book in your hand, having no guide
to navigate your reading, crave encounters that would bring Character A into a
close range of commodities, B, C and D, notice that he’d drunk too much, ‘for
sale, the bodies, the voices…’. It’s a type of movement from public space
to private shade that prevents idleness: casual, frequently unwaged work
providing opportunities to keep all gendered bodies visible and industrious.

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