Accelerating through faster chains
Of signs
Displaying the black translucent egg
Striking and rampaging
Out of you model-body
Vibrating surface of artistry
Of millions of aspirations
Sucking up tones of
Lurching lust lacking everything
From smell to sense
From glee to sin,
Only dust made out of money
And parking lots
An audience of ferocious parking lots
Looking for the translucent egg
Of your attention
The bleak bright fit
Of a spasmodic joy
It’s an hyperloop
A recursive hyperloop
Of breaths
A plentyness without a bottom.
there is no lack in desire
There is no crucial complex
But an abundance
That did not find
Its line of flight.
An abundance of mouths
That did not recall
Their teeths,
And world rolling over world:
Beyond this line of silence,
Made up of roaring accelerations
Hyperloops of desires
And a black hole
The other side of the egg
The other side of the spleen
