Breathe Moss and a video for my new book, Imagining Imagining: Essays on Language, Identity and Infinity.

BREATHE MOSS

 

The dustpan at the end of day here in the motel of escapees. A sniffle, a subcontinent, a plutocrat with superstar characteristics. Long blemishes of grease shine like miniseries. Weather throbs and sunshine appears, warms the skunk's foreparts. A patrolman on an off-day partakes in wink and simulation, then parked cars dissolve. An airship, low above the night table, fills with rivers, accepts me as a discoverer. The bomb and the dead absorb the rampage. Thousands create undulations beneath no shingle. Wait. Grow from the mileage. Breathe in lengthening shanties. Breathe from all sieves. Breathe your own moss. 

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