a pseudo-community
is nothing but a panopticum with trees and grass and its domesticating role,
with snow and its forced movements off the various architectural designs
soon you'll discover who's in charge, anointed,
with a perpetual eye on you:
some modicum of specific symptoms of your non-existence noted
setting in motion action alerts organised by the one's who rule
by design by ruse
rule over you
you're a receiver of reason's objects
words situate you as an object within visible and imaginary space,
a moveable sign within the supervised landscape
if you speak words,
know, no object can speak, make sense,
nor give reason