The old man calling out the facade of fabricated authenticity as a fake balcony hangs above his head that calls “great gifts” and from cracked walls shakes out the long-haired wookie “wonders inside” “beyond your wildest” and the eeeeeeeeee-errrrrrrrggghhh of old boards underfoot asking which way to the ocean of filaments that weave us into a basket of bosons fighting fermions from the wrong side of the tracks even though that all depends which side you’re looking from as spindles centromize and wall from wall these flowers bloom sweetness and sea carries salt to season the taffy of air