List of Initiatives,
or; The Dope on the First 224 to 500 Seconds

Swapped into an advent projection,
we were shanghai'd by a spork
-bomb rotting on the lam beneath an
ocean of artillery we rolled under

on ourselves clicking up a texture
-map obstacle attentive to the notion
of fragility's chain of non-overwhelming
lightning animating route sequence

-pick, agoraphobic instant behavior drops,
we applied them straight away, ordinating sips
of essential depletion into augmented quotient
of agility sheet manna narrating inbound

ripe lip subduced, we got prematurely draped
off the readjusted lattice-aura templates fully
braced for the holographic fields of reception,
then accelerated takes on the motions of stability

fried ethereal grin to catch the spectral collision
sets laced out beyond us and pixellating, we
cut the potion of mobility up with all the shit gripped
in the imperative, metric sap repair solution's till

we made our way to the fucking
stronghold, well aware that its
lotions of ability was the very shit
we needed to get ourselves in.

July 2007

amelia gilmore is a London based poet.
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