Wednesday, November 11, 2009

608. THE COSSACK PEOPLE

THE COSSACK PEOPLE
Now they can tell you in the geography
books where the Enmit enters the Don or
the Splietz drops into the Oder - and it's
all for nothing but to take up space. These
idiots get paid by the word. Illustrating that
word gets them paid even more. Maps.
Diagrams. Drawings of farm wagons in
leftover fields, children playing sticks
in ostracized tents askew on a meadow.
Oxen and chattel, climate and dogs.
All that tendentious stuff goes to make
up a world; not mine mind you but a
world nonetheless. Something that saddles
with shoulders, wears truth and murder as
an ideology, brooms through the system
of man like a plague. There's nothing we
can do about it. Too vague. We're
entitled to a certain amount of time,
and then...we're gone.

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