THE WEARINESS OF A WET CLOTH
2019
A WELL, BENCH, FEET, FUN GUM,
PROPOSITION FOR A GAME
Once upon a time there was this latent urgency of feeling
The weariness of a wet cloth which has soaked up and been wrung out and soaked up all over again
They call it efil, I call it life
They think me mistaken, I think me the kraken
The upper you go-er the sinker the lower, the deeper the sleeper the louder the weeper
My mother calls me Apeiron, the boundless, though it seems I must have some sort of something for when every time I face the mirror, I see this reflection staring back at me
A vessel housing my contaminated juice, I take a sip, and then a dip, first a toe before all under I go
