‘You can’t
easily rob language of its utility,
and if you did –
where would you put it?’
I have a machine to drain language of meaning;
to denude the outer surface of linguistic purpose.
The surface area of truth;
the square-root of a square being a pair of parallel lines.
Symphony for castanets and hummus sandwiches.
Gift-wrapped monkey boulevard.
Symphony for car-horn and assault rifle.
Concerto for flute and woodpecker.
Cosmonaut ballet.
The importance of not being important.
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