“Post modernism”, “deconstruction”
The unspeakable infinity separating sign form signifier
The truth from the Truth
The epitaph of a generation lost in their disillusionment
A world-wide-whimper
A final, globalized, exasperated breath:
“The Horror! ”, “The Horror! ”
The horror is here,
Has taken up abode across from your studio apartment
Amidst concrete jungles and ever-collapsing superhighways;
It always pays rent on time;
And stalks the streets
Now, as before, lighted by wrestles eyes.
Dying minds imagine the trilling lines of a long forgotten song.
Somewhere in the midst of unsung lyrics,
Fixity finds and seizes upon one cathartic, clove-smoke moment.
The still point where Chthonic presences emerge
To bathe in the cigarette smoke
Which lingers like The last line of a one line joke:
“home is nowhere”.
Sing along