HH06 - The Exquisite Corpse Shall Drink the New Wine

"The exquisite corpse shall drink the new wine", wrote the French Surrealists almost 100 years ago, and from this missive stems the parlor game in which we partake here. Through obscuring the tower itself, they cobble together meandering staircases in which to ascend with absent-minded haste; spontaneous line-weaving amasses figures and phrases into new planes of thought, therefore holding captive the illusion of creative reciprocity. Although housed in unrecognizable quarters, dull rain now tallies itself upon your window panes just as it once kept count on theirs. Apparitions unknown sound instruments of winding origin in celebration of the ink dry in the well.