An image with no practical purpose retains its charge, exposing the speaker's need to justify what moves them.
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There is no use for the charge. That is what keeps it alive. It hums beneath the table, brightening the dust. I bring a purpose. The purpose goes dark. The charge remains.
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A satire & subversion poem about job description, object, scale, where attention changes the scale of the ordinary.
The eye gathers impressions but cannot file them into a stable category, leaving the speaker with a living remainder.
Without a caption, the world becomes less legible but more alive to the speaker's attention.
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