lying obit

the city is an animal

it wears a glass and metal skin

i read capitalism’s obit but know it’s a lie

capitalism isn’t dead but we, having died for it

… an animal with the potential to do damage

i am turd in dark passage

my body’s a vector of capitalism

compelled to circulate rip be soiled ripped soil

risk being stuffed in a sock somewhere used as tp rolling paper

a commodity signing commodities signing signs

danced and dancing classified in a collection eventually inevitably replaced

excretion is a form of autobiography

if you would know me don’t trace my economic movements but bowel …

– more exactly –

i as movement in this animal