Fishnet

J. M. King
2 min readFeb 9, 2021

Incorrigible ripples are present. Waveline within them through and through. There is no beneath in the sky full of hills. White chiffon grass exits my socks. We know Velcro does more. You cure homesickness by renaming it. Write a calendar without a ruler. Suspend flecks of foil in goop. Crows like things that shine and so do we; this is nothing profound anymore. Ancient complexity has nothing on today. Epic knots are tied daily. Nothing is really taken ever, only added back and back again. This is the way I choose to see.

Distillation is rare; you can change this name to treat anesthesia. The window is brief. A persimmon is a synonym for pucker. Hold your arms out; either side is in the fourth dimension. Reading is a mimicry; there is no such thing. The self is a plagiarism when separated. A hive is the real alive; everything is only when together. A follicle looks to be a tree; minute alien landscapes are ours. We each own a forest; perspective is intangible dimension. Waves are all there is; rain is broken. A one and a zero make a drop. The default is spherical. Fibonacci was a whistleblower; we cannot translate anyway. Beginning is a made-up word. Sweet sweet scales. Anthropomorphic membranes are vibrating; this is not all time is. Sort them by flavor; grate tastebuds over bolognese. It’s been cooking nine years.

Sweet balances simmer; pass it around the room. Preventative prosody is not limiting, but binary is. Estuary is inverted etchings; writing rivers is spatial. Many things are massive. You are both. Is the name for concrete complete; edges argue otherwise. Corners exist for a reason. There should never be any more than three. Vacuum sealing deception does not work. Juice truth through a meat grinder. A name is nothing but. Mismatched morphemes make something useful. A serious storm is better than you. A Xerox of a Xerox of a person[1] is half; contradiction is birthed in a beaker. There are three spheres and you exist in none of them. There are things that rule more than us.

[1] Bojack Horseman Season 6, Episode 12

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J. M. King

I like to make up words and quote ee cummings. Let’s live suddenly without thinking.