I don't know if I read about unloading
that truck this morning or. Smoking
with a dim wink of vague sky scrolling
over my face and hands, glasses and
goatee, slice of Swiss in my teeth for they're
moving poems off the blotter and into the signshop,
where Hugh Heffner, all a-dribble with building,
simulates a talent search with a reach to land
unculled from any guidebook's preface. Eyes
and ears, nose and mouth before you see them
touch down on pop-up window purgation,
epicenter more natural than feng shui. I don't
know if these boxes come with anything more
analogous to the present than this. Rain. Ammonia.
2:39 PM 11/21/02
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Anningan (in progress) http://www.lewislacook.com/Anningan/AnningansDoor.html
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
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