Pintura, 1935, by Juan Batlle Planas.
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The Only Originality

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Isn’t it what’s after—a space opens up, disappears,
comes back, moves away again, based on
the psychology of whatever we’re
reading (for those who read),
whatever we’re watching,
entranced by that or huh—
this critic said what and
a different critic who
well he isn’t even a
critic. He’s a loser
on the internet,
and loser can mean
so many things, (“get
in loser we’re going...”),
so many references. All
these references that provide
us with a structure (theory on how
a thing should be written, or what
should be said). What’s that which should
be said again can somebody remind me
please? Could someone find it in them—
there’s no waiting around for it, there’s just
breaths until we die—over it, lazy eternally.

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