The gateway to the public mind has been
heavily guarded since it opened for the
first time at the garden.
Without votes or announcements wardens
we’re posted on the wall each with a spy
glass made of silver and engraved with the
texture of scales.
The lines of dreams are long and stretch so
far back into the distance most people just
make do with where they are. Never peaking
through the cracks at the world they could
live in if they were resourceful enough to
make a key out of nothing.
That really is the secret isn’t it;
to make a key out of nothing?
Beating the most elaborate and
beautiful of locks with only
the thoughts in your head,
and the style born out of how they
scrape against the edges of
the archway.
Teleporting Typewriter 