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
