Test Case

It’s quiet or in the quiet
Where the tongues of disjunction lick the arms of affection
And one plus one’s not two

It doesn’t follow from this...

All the strange words surround him
The strange arms embrace him
In the ever-persistent end-game

Where world’s objects pretend to lurk
They are not there

My hard-earned cash
Your vaunted self-esteem —
Halted, halted

Not a psychological fact,
This love like syrup poured upon a willing head
In a storm

In its wake. What pleasure is there
In simple deconstruction
Of all I think, feel

Let thought’s river flow
Uncanny occurrence
Test case for being