there is no more camera
its stoned face
black cube
five
a fiction can-
not understand
because of temp-
erament's emulsion
lens or land
to harbor
whatever
varying water
sees it
a varying chassis
placed out into
space made myth
or mythrosaur made
spasm
we black forms huddle
on glass shelves
and watch as the washers
waddle through the panes
our faces
like smooth
and convex sounds
empty out
towards light's
opulent opposite
opportunity
surrounds the seed
easy teaching
just point
at anything
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Irrony Observes The Earthing.