So I tell of wanting white spread to spectrum feigned in black. And how from this
imposture
of an
egg that
mimics
bland
conventions
of geometry,
outside the
moving eye
of human
interlopers,
outside
the craw
of friendly
ravenous
birds,
outside
the spectral
shadows of
mere words,
will be born
a spectrum
queen.
Joe
the roller of big cigars
