Misreading buses as abuses like misreading files as flies
and imitation as intimation. With the mind’s either-or
addition-subtraction what mayhem transpires! Inanimate
paper grows a hundred eyes, refuses to be killed no matter
how expertly you swat it. Wheels carry bruises the colour
of words from stop to stop. The child of ink becomes
the ghost of you. In an office somewhere hundreds of clerks
are cataloguing flies with manic boredom. Abuses are running
late, breaking down. Intimation-leather is catching on
without the slightest hint of faux pas. On and off
the brain switches wires, not short-circuiting, recognizing
in this other system of signs the first-the last facticity.

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