for PHM
imagine Patrick Schwarzenegger flayed, starting at the moment of his birth. the chestpiece comes off easy. glass ideogram-holder gel-reflecting not unlike a brass pin in the pectoral. done several thousand times you can imagine it tenderizes the flesh. it’s because of his cabal of liberodesigners and their mammal narrative cages. imagine a Nordic marotte sewn of scrotum and pigsthread. imagine the 840 dead clone sisterhorses that made Prometea. so he makes his catabasis, Patrick, carried on the wind above the river of the dead, killed for mechanic redundancy. he reincarnates as a wax form. the net at the corners decays a pile of sisterhorse teeth. we killed all those horses to make Patrick Schwarzenegger in the end. but we birthed them too. which came first, glass or Patrick Schwarzenegger? it depends when you were born. he gets eaten in the end. terrific maw, just great. the invention of paper was his bed printed with the words beneath his skin when he still had skin. consonants rot in the pines. horizontal stratiforms powder horizons. and at the beginning and end of it all, Patrick unends himself for me one last time.