Fibers Point

The Rosemary latitudes are 95 and 135.
They are named for Carl Rosemary,
founder of the Institute for Psychospatial Convergence.

Everything along a line is fine.

Your third instinct, between flight and post-prandial barbs,
consisting of the moisture on a baby’s fat finger, having been used
to pull tongues and carry moss, jumps
back upon itself, carrying the weight of insurgency like a pack mule
in the tundra,
leaping like a pike in the pituitary jetstream.

So it’s a reflected line.

And the generated waves don’t see the vacuum.

Killed by the Postscript of a Marmalade Collection

The black, wavy line is not a shadow. It is the place the young boy is wanting to and has not yet visited at the outskirts of the market, where the dogs bark in frantic ambivalence as currency pumps through the mutant vasculature of a macro-entity whose neurons, mitochondria, and Barr bodies are you, I, and Cindy Sherman, respectively.

The gridded oval shapes are not lanterns.
Strike that. Put in something about honey bees.
She is wearing a honey bee at the tip of each shoe, prending to kick, kick it

Each time she steps forward.

Wearing White and Looking Guilty

(Hiroshi Teshigahara wakes me up at 3am)

Hiroshi Teshigahara, what are you doing here?

(How have I recognized such an unfamiliar face?)

It must be that you have seen one of my films.

I don’t understand.

(He is dressed as the murderer from “The Pitfall.” His head hangs heavily from being dead so long. He rests on an enameled cane with a dragon’s head on top, modeled from the gates of the Sagrada Familia. My eyes attack each aspect of his form in turn. He is an intruder)

That is to be expected. I’ll get right to the point. There are certain changes in life which are unavoidable. Other developments can be avoided, like averting one’s gaze from a shameful sight or a violent beast. Some say that one must stare him down, prove dominance, but isn’t it better to simply show that his dominance is uncontested and save one’s own skin from being torn away? This is what I am getting at. Some beasts are thin and appealing, a beast of temptation. Also, there are winged creatures that swoop upon their prey, jaws detached, saliva spilling. Haven’t you a care for the lost children of the world?

Mr. Teshigahara, I have been tending to my own wounds, applying the salve of sleep to the frayed, desiccated tissues of my unconscious mind. Am I not allowed that?

(He wavers. Presses more firmly upon the crutch. I think of church bells in the
rain and long rivulets that roar as they rush into the dark rapids of the gutter)

Your older brother is becoming overweight. His girlfriend has sent me to tell you as much. I must ask you to intervene in a number of subtle and tactful ways which I intend to explain. Please fetch a notebook and pen, and pay close attention, since you are not reliably apt in your speech to manage this unaided.

-Invite him to dinner and serve a light stir fry with chicken breast and many vegetables.
-Buy him new dress pants on his birthday in a slightly small size.
-Tell him that you have begun drinking more water and fewer soft drinks, and enjoy it.
-Talk about a mutual acquaintance who suffers diabetes because of poor eating habits.
-Go out to the park and decide spontaneously to attempt a lengthy and challenging hike.
-When the two of you are alone, maintain long, uncomfortable silences and glance periodically at his midsection, as though trying unsuccessfully to avoid it.

Are you getting all this? Please read it back to me.

Listen, first. What is the meaning of this? I don’t care if my brother is skinny or fat. I don’t care if he turns into King Kong and climbs the Eiffel Tower. Why don’t you tell that woman to leave you alone?

I am truly disappointed to find you responding in this way. For your information, since you apparently must know every last detail of my private affairs, she happens to be offering me something of great worth in exchange for the minor correction I am attempting to perform. It is a recompense that will release my soul from a kind of suffering. It is worth thousands of American dollars.

(Because I have been paying close attention, I see his hand draw up the cane
in preparation for a thrust. Dodging left, I reach out and snatch the weapon.
I beat him about the head and chest, taking no special care to leave the clothes intact)