1819 c/o Owen Vince







“gold” is four directions -
“gold” is capable of resisting
water ; by sinking
gold denies its own capability not
like a paper mache head with
its ears pulled sideways . I
              have seen a man gesturing in panic , wildly
              and dropping
fondant from the birthday ; sputa , twelve dead
humpback whales washed up on the banks of the
Mississippi . glided. they were asset mined
by the minute men of Arkansas , humming
and hawing. Also , as mines exist in potential they
also exist in reality. a speculation is a gesture made
into a fog , it is the hope he didn't see the shape your finger
made (clue: savagery). the men in silk brown blue yellow
white coats are getting closer . tears straddle their nice
cheekbones ! the chandeliers were an investment .
they clatter nicely, together.

              British products can be drowned in ;
              american products are shine ,
rare and traded for kudos . an “agrarian land
boom ensued in the south and west united
states” . Everything was based on a land
boom , he said , “but , in a fake way”.
              You know?
Astor , Girard , Paris , and sixteen
million of their friends who's faces are , yes ,
triangulated and exchangeable . the nation's
credit was a gold philosopher blond mega
fauna that screamed over the newly recovered
cities of Atlanta , Chicago , Kansas
and drilled into the asphalt of Minneapolis !
              Mining sounds
              like a rearrangement
              in the language
              of

your listings like -

              this cow creamer is worth
              fourteen of your cow
              creamers ; this oesophagus
              has no exchangeable or market
              value ; this carpet was once
              tailored by the elite carpet tailor
              it is that colour for a reason
              this field is a deflated
              balloon but crops cannot grow
              there , or grow all
              over the place like
              snagged teeth – their sprayed
              open corn tastes
              yes of glass ; i will see you again
              on WS, yes? i will bury my face
              in the carpet and meet my departed
              dearly friends.