Pineapple Day at the Warehouse of Platonic FormsJohn Mulligan
The night guard at the warehouse of Platonic forms dresses more wounded birds in corduroy than Nature. But if we go back in time no one will exist there. I am related to wolves so I can relate to being without an ideal form. That is why we must leave now. In the warehouse of Platonic forms mended wings are nursed back into the shapes of eggs by the Good, the Beautiful and the Wolf. But if we go to the warehouse of Platonic forms no one will shine there. The forms could in fact be no forms at all if the birds hatched only meager tautologies. As we approach the warehouse of PF's we are increasingly aware of our lack of conditions; I sprout nodes; lose ordinary teeth; fall there to the bottom of the laundry basket. Snuffed out by the density of ideal corduroy.
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