“In the dream’s deepest corridor every contradiction is a doorway step through enough of them and you find a great forest growing at 5,980 fathoms.”
- Poet
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polysemy protrudes, prodding power letting chiasma churn and curdle ply poet-marriage: an anankean lockless key—a dower set upon a dorseless tower I eat my crow, drowned in chowder time sealed in the wicking willow wood —CODA— I don’t want to be solved I want to be inhabited working in dream-logic surrealist disjunctive fissures places where contradictions coexist that is— precisely pointless =======
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