Louis Armand
 

Dextrose
 
 
 
 
 

cut-out figures, from right to left in the shooting gallery: lunch of cold meat, salad—the weather is “changeable,” marked for replacement                          naked in the back  room: stringing up papier-mâché heads, filled with sand—the holes left unplugged, barely                         contained—no mystery  encroaches on the game at  hand (“can see  what’s on your mind”); the body is weightless, at intervals  which are no longer temporary—suspicion of returns, could  increase into a madness: the hidden                           laughter of canned goods, dis- played in serial revenance, infinitely identical—the others have been removed from the chain of being: an escalator  which leads upwards through incarnations, to the only available checkout

  (c)Louis Armand 2003