Tuesday, July 8, 2014


You are a very serious baby.  They didn’t think you had the guts to wear the monocle before the House.  The chaos of your mind solved the problem.  Tank-lined streets.  The earth shifts her chthonic slumber.  Harvest comes in like stooks.  (What the fuck is a stook?)  More barbarous than beauty.  Unchained at the lip.  The buildings are next to the park and the park is next to you and all of us are inverted in space.  I don’t want you to sit there.  Change my diaper.  After I slaughter this ethnic minority.  Notes pocketed.  The smallish senator from Kentucky an intelligent fanatic would like to offer a platitude.  Eat me.  Prometheus to the vulture.  Cacophony sometimes dips into a splay of order.  The still-moving substance of everything that is.  Infinite.  White.  As a wave pushing back the edges of nothing.  Why is this a zero sum game?  Thales was right about you.

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