The realistic body reaches across its frame to the hastily sketched impression of an outline of a body, smeared into its environment, imploring assistance or forgiveness. The worlds are silent at midday; two empty boats rock gently on the water. The realistic body falls from its frame, cutting its lips & chipping a tooth in the process. The hastily sketched impression of an outline of a body, smeared into its environment, runs until its lungs are fit to burst. All at once the area fills with police; I kick off my shoes & remove my socks & dream of Iain Duncan Smith metamorphosing into a giant lizard, tongue flicking in & out.
People begin to stroll nearby, children play at tag. The dark grows light & shadowless. The realistic body walks the streets, blood trickling from its mouth, invisible to the world of ideas.