A   R U M I N A T I O N,
A S   Y O U   M I G H T   E X P E C T

BY JUNIOR DePASQUALE


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It is a frame of gilt. The photo is, as you already see, faded. I, as you suspect, do not see. Perhaps it is a willful rejection. Anti-see. Perhaps; I am only trying, no failing, anti-see, pating the wry rejoinder, am being clever. No.

[observations on the latent, the resultant, simulacra. Photos. The soul. Those New Guineans, they have it all on us. Break the lens, corrupt the exposure]

Who was it that said "My ass always looks big in photos."? I forget. So many things, nuggets of an education gone awry, squandered. They call the thing you put down the drain a snake, did you know that? Perhaps we could plumb, ach, that, that hurts even me to day. Sorry, right.

I read something about frames, and regressive navel gazing. Sociologists. Isn't that what they do, figure out how much less than minimum wage I get for this? So this here, even the smart-ass, or not so much so, comment about sociologists, is an act of framing. I have a friend, he lived in a frame shop, for months. No one knew. He is not much better than I at seeing the gilt. I don't know that he tries more, or less.





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