He got quantum-5150d by the Bureau
of Impossible Fantasies. You do not get
as many worlds as you can imagine. Bumped
precipice inflicts vertigo of latency, sensation
of foot dropped ghostly below itself. Bloated
with possibilities. Virtually immune to decency.
Consider the following. Then consider the thought
leader. Branch this decision at a save state
able to remake it at the drop of the other
shoe. Latch onto exoteric reflections until
you find nothing to be subsumed into.
No sense, corpus, alternate course.
No way. Not even a koan. No
galactic animal's pulse, no horseback
zeitgeist, no-body's starstuff.
Hush. No do-overs.
###
Lucas Mancini acts spooky at a distance. See more at Eulogy Press, Michigan City Review of Books, electric pink, and elsewhere.