This world without shadows. This overlit world. This overdeveloped world.
This transparent world – that’s only ever itself. This tautologous world. The same and the same same.
That knows only how to be itself. That’s never interrupted. That’s without … absence.
This is what they’ve made. This is what they’ve done. This is their crime, that pretends that it’s not a crime.
They stopped the world doing anything but appear.
This humourless world, though it laughs. This world without laughter, though it smiles.
This serious world. This weighing upon us world. This crushing us world. This impossible world.
Work in Progress 