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Poetry

Jurgen Habermas, carpenter

by a.h.s. boy


I tried to build a mannequin
that could withstand the clock
and the arm fell off   but there's still hope
I managed to obtain
a temporary suspension of time
but realized   I too am powerless
when nothing TICK
TICK TOCK moves 
Should mannequins not live
beyond themselves? beyond the life
expectancy of a limb or spare part?

I've been working with glue
since before I was born
Something's essentially wrong
with this method
because mannequins   at least mine
should be eternal
and adhesion is only fashionable

A valiant production
not without flaws :
guitar string nerves to maintain harmony
(always out of tune)
telephone wire backbone
to keep in touch 
with dismembered relatives
(the fashion torsos
the car crash corpses)
there's a hair-trigger problem in the joints
where everything comes together
and nothing connects

still
I want to give my body guts
some blood some natural   organicness
a mouth to speak with

 

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