What is the person?

beginning to end of

a line

ahead of itself

such that there it is

with its head

feeding

on its own tail

 

but tales, tells

not more self-annihilation

than growth

from something like a self-making self-same

comestibility

 

that is,

starves and satiates

on a hunger for the

meeting with itself

 

whilst also all the time,

of course

spinning out –

out-of-control of course –

fattening itself up on so much more than itself,

yet feeding, and feeding on, foremost

that for which it feeds

(everyday nutrition,

in this sense,

the mere bare bones

of a much more temporal appetite)

 

so, spends time

spilling into itself

after stinging itself

always there also feeding back

 

future biting history

history, the old biting

and old bit

bleeds into the salivation

salvation

of a continuity

that presses forward

by pressing its fangs

probing

into

a hitherto

 

basically, orbit on its own axis

something in time able to time its own questions about time

minimally independent

of the most immediate answers

of an otherwise questionless timelessness;

 

hunger for itself

line forced into contortions

often getting quite fed up

but through that same bloatedness

already layering the appetite

reaching the round-about point

that will be the stomach –

swallowed itself

and out the other way again –

to stomach

the next moment

of a self-nurturing

nutritioning;

 

satisfaction,

the present-ing conditions

of a re-turn to an emptiness

that bites with the fulness of a line

turned to look at itself

 

at once

the opening and closure of something

in time

capable of life –

introductions –

beginning and ending in ways

that do not have to end the way begun.

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