You can feel the fibrillation
But only once in a great while
Like the twitching in the lower leg
Or in the skin under the eye
But bigger blockier
Like a fist or like two fists
Pressed together to simulate brain
A pressure not resulting in fusion
Lacking crucially the corpus callosum
Connective divider

One could return to the carousel
Of Cs and Os
The pathway to earlier certainty
Remains open
Drop a fictive name
And pretend that a real stranger gets it
Earlier completions earlier euphemisms
Demonstrative adjectives and parodic armillaries

But only at the cost of those partial failures
Those invisible naked truths
As for example concerning the outrageous future
The hand of fate
The systematic confusion of fact and speculation
The encyclopedias of another dimension

Or
A doodle where the surf crushes the sand
A self-serving geomancy of control
Of cubic watermelons and hydraulic forearms
But is that so wrong
And is self-sacrifice irrespective of its beneficiary so right
Dalí refused to return the calls
Of those who narrated their dreams to him
The illustrator whose dreams decorated a century
Of the devil’s party with or without malice aforethought

Increase the dreams
Augment and enhance them
Duly sublimated
Pink pears
Silent colonnades
Well-worn hats
Wooly rhinos
Improvised Golgi bodies