composite text from “The Bachelor” Season 24 & Louis D’aragon’s “Les Aventures de Télémaque,” 1922. (2019)

I. Then what do you think about?

II. Things that drown in ink, about the dust on garden paths 

I. Every single time we’re together, you’re always in a mood

II. I’m not attacking you

I. In the morning I eat forests on buttered bread

II. You’re doing yourself harm, you are not of an age to play with light effects

I. I’m going to cut everyone here’s legs off and arms off and there’s going to be torsos and I’m going to throw them in the pool and I’m going to fuck up this entire damn thing

II. As this brief speech is beginning to tire you as much as life bores me, let us find together an escape from this trap. Like the peddler who shows you postcards, then add discreetly: how about some photographs, Mister? After such decent preambles I whisper in your ear the offer of a system disallowed by the government, a brand new, hot off the fire beautiful system, with a badge on which is inscribed: don’t close the door, a system, finally, a system, a system

I. But, you give me reasons to have doubt

II. As an attraction it’s zero, yes.

I. Up to the last notch, from stiff fingers 

II. It seems to me this test tried in a scenic place was better when I ceased so I could gaze at your face. 

I. It makes me happy, but isn’t that looting? 

II. Oh, practically no sales at the store today

I. I never had the slightest idea how to incite desire, so how could I?

II. I see that, but why couldn’t you have made a few sales? 

I. It isn’t for lack of trying

II. The whole island is converging

I. Oh when

II. Sometime soon for the group date when an amateur company of water sprites is putting on a show

I. Will we ever be just one mummy under the ancient desert and the happy palms?

II. Never is likely

I. I will get her and when I do, we will be under the ancient desert and the happy palms