The moon’s backwash is like a deeply incised
hairnet against the stadium.
—John Ashbery
You can’t control the airwaves. And
don’t even talk to me about the neighbors!
In this place? You can’t pick your neighbors
here. Forget about it. And if there is some
sort of hairnet in the sky, as you might
imagine, what you experience when it comes
to night visions—or even daydreams for that
matter—are all caught in a communal feedback
loop. So let’s say you’re one of an endless
bunch of bodies stacked like sardines into a
massive complex. And that the whole gang
of said sardines were degenerates. Now you’ve
really got a complex. Dreaming and redreaming
the dreams of a gargantuan tin of dumb sardines.
