Welcome Back The Woman-flesh Illusionist

it came again    the vertigo       in blackness

on the pillow    pinball eyes a head 

on gimbals        stillness            cut loose 

from shadow    this rackety slalom

of nothings                   art   hallucination 

and

I can’t say

when you got more stable         when

I got same         whose head 

we are looking out of    

I think

it likely             makes a difference 

you’d

say       only if it’s me 

you’d say 

that you           don’t

understand       my voice

incomprehensible        like

the bird sounds            

or reading entrails           a highly specific          task      

I’m diverted     

into a small dog             chasing tail       because

someone’s        at the door 

spin

it’s long enough            

to forget           you say

I can’t say