2020-10-14 06:09

man slept
immortality aged
the eternal

nineteen-fifties
the theatre was

a lonely vigil
at the beach
with other friends

even critics
(evasive epiphanies echo)

(2004-03-07)


cutup poem


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verb We are walking through the frost. The sunshine (always “abundant” even in shadow) melts the marrow. I am I am I am. Weaken the verb and you’ll