Along for the ride, here's an homage to _Fight Club_.
Dear Reader, mark the micro-politics at work. It's very Foucault.
Now the Leaves Are Falling Fast
Steeped in the tepid embellishments of end of day, Evening's horizon opens the market to her wishful
thinking, Salutes his efforts at accountability and record
keeping, And between a nod and wink, severs pine tree from sky.
Where all divisions widen a milk-white pill makes
whole, When powdered water provokes the walls to whispers, When second thoughts describe complicity of neighbors, When the sum result stutters, staggering the fittest
will.
In outrageous highlights their day of offices and
chairs Appears to dismantle shams and promises tommorrow; The season's serial departures fade to focus and
narrow; And evening's orchid contracts as night's dull thumb
forswears.
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