THIS IS SO FUNNY,
THIS EXISTENCE
LASTING FOREVER
I throw an occasional iconoclastic bomb
I guess I do I suppose I do - they land and
crack something, usually my own skull.
All that glitters is not gold, but some things
are - those are the ones I go after : Grendel
and Ashurbanipal and Gilgamesh too. I
love the source of all things : my Mesopotamia
of a mind runs silent through marshes drained
by Saddam after thousands of years : every bastard
of history's take has done the same thing, smashing
idols like nothing mattered. A big Mao and a big
Pol Pot - pictures abrupt, hanging over the heliport.
-
I think I'm going back. I think I'm going back.
This existence lasts forever.
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