///The old man// calling out// the facade// of fabricated authenticity// as a fake balcony// hangs above// his head that calls// “great gifts”// and from cracked walls// shakes out// the long-haired wookie// “wonders inside”// “beyond your wildest”// and the// eeeeeeeeee-errrrrrrrggghhh// of old boards// underfoot asking// which way to the ocean// of filaments// that weave us into// a basket of bosons// fighting fermions// from the wrong side// of the tracks// even though// that all depends// which side// you’re looking from// as spindles centromize// and wall from wall// these flowers bloom// sweetness// and sea carries salt// to season// the taffy// of air///