Distributivity

Distributivity by any other name was still an unfolding circulation within rhizomatous pipes resulting in a complex flux of interpenetration.  When it was vaguely meaningful, we called it poetry.  When we looked closely, we thought we might witness cybernetic relations, purposes and two-way mirrors, but only at the point of focus.  The context itself was a labyrinth.  Very young as well as old and distant eyes only saw a blur, but it was still somehow familiar and not typically thought a trap.  Was it something we should copy?

We looked around for agreement with our assessment.  If we felt strong and insecure, we imposed it.

But it was the wrong season for the circus, so on these grounds was erected a pentecostal revival tent to entrap new souls.

Sometimes the magic didn’t work.  Sometimes it’s just the wrong moment for literal interpretations and we came up empty.

I once had a lamp shade with a tall spindle, upon which a little spider spun a marvelous webbed tent.

It should have worked: heat, light, beauty, stickiness, all the essentials were present, and there was neither fire nor brimstone. For some reason, the bugs didn’t show up.  The spider itself left town in a funk.

Sometimes the magic doesn’t work.  Sometimes it’s just the wrong season.