eating magazines
a diet of books
a tv altar, a radio confession box
i’ll be a crane
the bird or the mechanical lifting machine
and they are the same
walking through a meadow
walking through the street
stood on a conveyor belt
i’ll be ham sandwich
i’ll be crudité
i’ll be escargot
it’s a crock, monsieur
mon hypocrite, mon lecteur, mon sembable
flush with duchamp toilets
lost in found art