Andy Gricevich

Unmapping (from the lens)

as if rocking between the feet
as if there were feet

hills obtrude. exponential shift
then seen from far away

located at the periphery, turning
and turning back
into expressions

which may be impressions of others, pivots led by the nose, even
odd recipes, as the triangular wave moves right

into the audience and dissolves
("salad with a vengeance" and entails)

something reverses-perhaps elevation

stubborn boring beating of hearts
whatever takes time takes place
through possible contexts

all decisions' long-term effects
return to rewrite the so-called present

a movement "is" mostly between points,
or else points "are" mostly memory

economically speaking, a nickel is a waste of noon
twelve new shoots read off their thousand-year-old text
(unbelievable and thus true/false)

the cracker of culture
far below
the words are claiming consistency
onscreen. on/off.




we found them in the overview, already quite prominent
and decayed

anybody could talk about the slab, but there it was,
moving across a depth like a squint
like a tank,


"clogged" language
of distance


return of landscape
eleven times
this time for the face

(echo of gossip)
"eros only as quotation," says the dead newscaster
the map is what's impassible-what's impossible

is the traversal played out backstage
on inflated scales, few words
call motion into being, or vice-versa,
as if there were voices, and feet carrying them away

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