in the light of the world I took stock and, ate failing stars and, took pen to the felt of myself and, found the incision that makes man not like God and, ate of it in the basement behindthe oil-cover cloth and in the bathroombehind the triptych byzantine-style behindthe subwoofing house behind the dancers the… Continue reading poem: moonlighting with Madame Psychosis
Tag: infinite jest
poem: comet
this desert is worse than the others: yelow harlot, or during the brightest points of the afternoon a reminder of the infinite she last felt at twenty-two, or like a mousecarcass and the dwelling people with theirvulture eyes: here is the truth of out-here America, puremoral rot. and yet I would like to take out… Continue reading poem: comet
