Between Contracts

The weeks constrict, pythons around my ribs, under which the turbid valves of the heart pump on with blind certainty.Dreams of flapping wings outside windows.A nest of telephone calls, letters, deposits, routines in which I can submerge peacefullyand integrate with process, a limbed machine conferring golden fries, cigarettes, tins of ointment.Money is running out. No …

Economics

There was a commotion outside the window. A million people arrived overnight and moved swiftly to assemble petrol stations, delicatessens and strip joints. Signs point everywhere you cannot go. I think of the past to hold myself down. There are more products than you can imagine. Throttled streets lined with plates of black ice. I …