45*21

there is this tower ubiquitous
the clothes come off
tin objects loom above an ancient cast
blue winged plane
What delivers us from evil
delivers us into the hands of it
dudden it?
We are left empty of devices
The piano in the field invites destruction
Born is Tarp!
Glasses with meals and
inside
industrial glasses with no meals
the record of unarting art
that which is built on node
imbued with light
my type writer talks
the anti mystical radio tower
Golden tower of radon
and absent butterfly head of Redon
winching us up manually