In the anthropocene, the real sun is incandescent.
The real window is paint.
Boats don’t have to float to be called boats.
Words are decorative and red doesn’t mean welcome.
Words are artefacts. Totems. Ancestral amulets.
Their meanings appear certain.
But they are open to interpretation.
Really. Without the words, a sign works just as well.
With them, it’s just as blank.
Boats in the desert?
Even the dogs know better.
Thing is, do we?
We’re trying to put all this junk together and make it walk and talk.
It’s the least we can do.
I’m serious. Do you see a swing set here?