nypoesi 2/06
  27.

He scans headlines of the morning newspaper for anagrams. He can’t accept their topology and flips back to a more inhibited reading. His pen in hand crosses out all subtle words, adds letters and re-punctuates every telling. With scissors he inserts deletions, insisting all the while it

is no violent act, but for his frank type of truth. He turns to the television, forgets the objectivity of [if] language

inhibited by its lush sensuality of images. A magical, illogical lump of a cartoon authorizes artificiality. He laughs at comic falls, gaming up to logic with implicit affirmation.

The climactic sublime disappears,
his lunch coffee fouled.