Cleaning out the mind. Remaining vigilant, avoiding confrontation. Mitigated normalcy, figuring out primes. Defacing architectures with intention of rebuilding frames for faces later. Purpose avoided, monsters interrogative. Suppose demons exist, suppose we are there futures, after long-grappling with better fondness for realities. Wrestlers against reality, the problem ever being with the selection of reality. Sorting through of options, clearing the way for digestion and interpretation. Arguments broil under unrecognized relationships with reality. Simple errors, mistaken for true points of conflict: the building up of structures made of thought, identified as the world by only one. Many live alone in our towers, many more share our towers with a few others, found online or in a heap of viewers of the same shows, the same posters, the same advertisements.

•

Keeping a clear head. Keeping it clear because it doesn’t want to all on its own. Dusting off the old recordings, throwing out the records that only had twisted material on them to begin with. This effort, to record, to collect, to sort, to identify- the brain as a library instead of a roller coaster. Figure in for poison-sprays from high-lines and hovercraft, making a thick dust of their own, indistinguishable at times from actual sound, and you have yourself a past, a where-from for a person. Where is only ever half the story, when is only part of half. Stopping fire before it starts, that’s the puzzle of every growing / grown person. Where is the dust-catcher for a whole generation, let alone a world? Pesticides grow old and stuck-on, become large territories inside a person.