DIVERSION
I feel this diversion occurring once more -
the apple box is on the stove, the lingering
girls won't leave. One after another, enticing
me more - I tell you, it's worse than one Eve.
-
There a television on in the other room, playing
shit from 1958 - it does seem, in fact, like another
age in there. The Price Is Right. To Tell the Truth.
Sky King. The Goldbergs again. What is this?
-
I lost my body a million years ago. Now only
Spirit is my cloak, and I inhabit as many things
as I can - no one recognizes me, nor my name
for what it is. I am kindred to the very God they
slobber over; made of flesh and blood; hearts of stone
I cannot think their way, and I will not speak.
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