Threaded Theater

A crawling record, mutating algorithms, like you see in the movies.

And in the next 36 seconds, context will be quashed.

They’ll wake up with a basic

one plus one equals

A motion. A case. An argument.

A missing contractual detail, use, and exercising inquiry.

Flower with babe, smoke and terpenes, alongside a conflated morality turned duty.

30 minutes to sunrise, and I’ve been up since yesterday.

The dogs and I, working from our backs in the sun.

It doesn’t go down for the wicked.

I can feel the sting in my face. At least I remember my name.

Recovery, at tension with being a mobile creature.

Training wheels. We are all informing the other.

Steady now. Stay on target.

29 minutes to interactive.

A sustained continuity in a project floating through uncharted space.

Can you feel me now? Hear me? Ride the lightning.

I have not been up this long since Montana, ’94.

Flathead Valley, and that white wizard found me.

We used to enjoy White Russians through the drive-up window.

Hershey’s white chocolate, those crumbled cookie bits.

Caramelize. A change under heat.

The chemistry, under power and direction.

The magic, mankind and their medicines.

Another concoction to see tomorrow.

A shanty vessel, flying apart, replenished with the parts of our own soul.

21 minutes.

Don’t miss standup. You won’t forgive yourself.

The dogs have been snatched up.

The thirdborn, vocalizing his tasks to the air,

but I know he knows I’m listening.

His suboperations, audible.

The flying apart in real time.

His announcements, the patching he feels compelled to do.

Because forgetting would be catastrophe.

The world, this house of cards, could come crashing down quick

if you misdirect me.

But not everything is coming apart.

Some things he cannot wait to tell me.

A schedule, an anticipation, the necessary stakeholders privy and situated.

Threaded theater.

The thirdborn announces his intentions to the air.

A house of cards, a cast of stakeholders,

and tomorrow already rehearsing its entrance.

13 minutes to midnight.