Activity

There were cubicles exposed at street level, men and women watching screens, and he felt the safety of their circumstance, the fastness, the involution of it, their curling embryonic ingrowth, secret and creaturely.

He sat before a plate of pancakes and sausages, waiting for the square of butter to melt and run so he could use his fork to swirl it into the torpid syrup and then watch the marks made by the tines slowly fold into the soak.

A suit subdued the camber of his overdeveloped chest.

A line from a recent interview in the White Review might explain this strange aporia

A former pornographer, he would transform himself into a Marxist saboteur and an AIDS activist, made and remade by the exigencies of each successive decade.