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part three -- loud actions


On the other side of the painted partition is the sickly man who leans his head over the flowery box. The screen and the box are painted yellow, blue, and red. The man can see, inside the box, a transparent house full of stick figures who meditate and whip each other. He thinks, "you must stun or be stunned."

Forsake his influence, foolish, simple EYE, and we will creep a while in the twilight. The other feathered things, unsystematically dismantling their nexts in the surorunding bushes, sigh, empurpled and discreet, over their broken eggs (as fragile indeed as the clanking bones we regrettably contain). One of the fledglings begins to sing, hysterically, and walks away. The song dismembers itself.

I anticipate nothing, yet the chance parrot has flown out of the box and now sits on the lamppost, purring.

Its chased tail does a clever maneuver while trying to flog a dead metaphysical* horse, swinging you over to the other side of the partition.

You complain that someone is trying to rip off your clothing with her art. You say you feel shy and embarassed, and you wish the person would go away and stop delineating all the negative aspects of your life.

Your mouth, originally a monologue, becomes a dialogue becomes a choral chant. Your mouth is stuffed with sausage and food. Pork and pigs saturate

the background:



"Who singed the winged burnt pig
dript off the edge....
Sullen choke/ and so awry/
the key involves the door/
A verse of pigs/
To save the tribe
Amnesia lacking cheer.




part one part two part four part five
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