Convenient Lessons in Honor
Julian Haladyn

I am so sick of Satie
Walking his dog
as it poops in the grass

It stood like an engraving
or an animorphic shaped stone
affixed proudly

to my ornamental lawn

A tall man walked up to me
asking for directions

His foot is a machine
stamping the material into a flattened plane
casting another of many sculptural interventions

He works in a bookstore on Spiegelgasse
which sells only copies of copies
material bound in copper

original works exist only as dreams of memories

Originally trying to catch a train
I read to myself from a soiled copy of a book
a book I hope to write

it was at that moment
Satie and his accomplice navigating a search pattern
they were quite the act

Demarcating notions of proper etiquette
Wrapped in paper bags