The Flying Nun does not exist.
Scant dissonance, no disruption. There are
Mere appearances, such as a vantage baseline,
Retail boundaries.

Monkish materiality lives on — it’s left the office to half-
Center on taking off.
My 3-D models are you & everything else I can be w/ w/out you
— to hold chaos again.

It dawns on me
Before blasting forward chaos is offhand
— having seen it, been married to it earlier I’m where

I don’t mind if I look worn or beaten up. I’m wearing


The national nun costume,
                                         stretch poplin, in a trance.