2. "a speech duct taped over the ear"

In Sandra Simonds' Warsaw Bikini from Bloof Books there are many comments on liquids, the undersea life, the protection of the minority of the opulent in the academies of the future, and “corridors of torn prints that scrap the world to parenthesis.” Take the title: ONCE I WORKED WITH A MAN.

And the first two lines: “who wanted to be Garson. / Garson was the boss. . . “

Or THESE ARE THE DAYS OF MALTHUSIAN FOOTNOTES: “She wades in a pool of serum and amoebas where the oil slick / is a speech act duct taped over the ear.” Or that poem THEIR CATS, which says, “I am the lapse” and “I am the stone testicle” and “I am the (now vegetable oil) Hummer of Arnold Schwarzenegger” and after messing around a bit with the metaphor -- “No I’m not” and “I’m poor / so poor / that I vomit pennies / dimes trash / the sunset / so count them / if you want / to be loved tonight. / In this economy / I’m nothing / my friends are nothing / the poems they write / are good for nothing / and there is nothing / they can do about it. “

Sandra is a fellow-traveler to some celestial organization, a down low ideologue for the heavens, as if an aesthete were mistaken for an astronaut and given, as a costume, scuba equipment, and given, as reading material, Das Kapital.