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                           with each miss, I find my place
                           with each ad, I play some more
                           with each venture, I diminish

                until the far side of town is my mineral self
                where my breaths waft across the skyline entropic
                to their exponential growth until plagues seem quite feasible



All the Madmen of the Saviour Machine collapsed into a rogue card with which you could do anything if you let the rules allow … if you let the rules allow

Read the collected movements in David Bowie: Movements in Suite Major




Bowie & identity & society wormhole: a theremin note – poewieview #21
breath wormhole: organ / sunlight in all our eyes – poewieview #11
capitalism wormhole: 20th century
power wormhole: top table
skyline wormhole: the silent night of the Batman