The swaying powers outside of us are not to
be underestimated. Questions of authenticity, of integrity?
Always we have looked and seen that same old
armchair rotting in the alley. One day
the garbage men must've taken it, or some teenagers, maybe.
Remember you woke up one night, mouthing 'spores',
and how that informerical for a blender that
could blend a lightbulb to a cutting dust,
how much it terrified us?
When the man emptied it
and said 'Don't breath'?
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