What stays, stays behind.
Its priority is resolved– it has none
The rest is planes and sky, trickling and pipes, twitches, eyes, cats and night time.
When the good flavours are taken
what is left?
The remaining, its remainder
Grease on the walls, obstinate.
It is the twelve and now there are three
It’s additional, additive, adding to
each day.
It is the adder that lurks continually
The rest is here and it is no rest
The rest came and was and is becoming
twelve.
It is the yelling,
the yelling, there was the yelling
The rest is all
and it swallows us whole
