Tuesday, July 28, 2009

479. BLOATED RHETORIC LIKE INKY DOO

BLOATED RHETORIC
LIKE INKY DOO

This is a very vibrating life,
here where they stay, like
fiddler crabs in their
silly orchestra. Death Valley
to all who come here.
An aerie of figments
jesting as eagles.
-
The Vast Intensity Chemical
Club dips their fingers in
bloodied ink - a coagulated
goo from the Crimea, a mash
made of Russian saints.
-
That fourteenth kid on the
overhanging left: his name is
Fred and his mother's dead.
He said he was watching
baseball yet again the other
day and had to turn it off.
He suddenly realized, what he
said, was the following :
Every game, any, had all
been played before.
-
'No more, no more.'

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