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Poison
New York
2024




We sat on a rock at your periphery. Someone passing by started talking about you; they said you weren’t always an empty lot; you used to be a factory. They said you were the reason for all the buildings around you. They said the Factory burnt down; they said they burnt the factory down. They said you are so lush because the ashes fertilized the concrete cracks. They said you grow wildflowers on bad weed. They said some are poisonous. They said there used to be another empty lot where the mall is now. They said they used to boil the seeds and drink the water to get high. They say all plants are edible, but some you can only eat once.

The image cuts; an orphan stabs in the dark until it finds a form, at times resistant to the blade and at times inviting. The orphan finds a sense of satisfaction in this act. It learns the form by exploring it. The form becomes the orphan. If only the blade knows the heart of the coconut. You are the plastic bag that carries the coconut. You greet me with Have a Nice Day! Or Thank You for your Business, or just Thank You. You also worry about my well-being and say Choking hazard, Do not place over head, Please Recycle, Shop Local, Buy Fresh, This bag is not a toy. I have also read you give me instructions on how to use you, such as Handles Up or Tear Here. But these are only matters of a facade. Some might think you seem so painfully unpoetic and unromantic in this situation. However, I find a profound beauty in your form. Your excess represents our intoxication. You are also the coconut and the blade. You are also the body and the form as you dance with all of us, and because of this, I celebrate you. Party.

The image cuts to a person sitting on the sofa. They call the hospital and tell them that they have a squirrel in their stomach and they must help them get the squirrel out; the person on the other side of the line laughs mockingly and insists that they can’t help them. The person calls back to say they got the squirrel out by opening the stomach.