You would think not wouldn’t you? . . .
especially in those moments
when you're imagining a quartet of abstractions
posing as the four seasons
on the Outer Banks
while in this big rig
you are being strip-searched
by a string of tangled marionettes
who couldn't care less
about your precious autofictions . . .
Time bends, yes? . . .
The smooth sailing before the plug is pulled
the plagiarized love notes
from odysseyites en route to the Gates of Hell . . .
The voiceovers persist . . .
a discordant feed to the rehearsal
when you're hit with that same old same old . . .
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| Antonio Palmerini |