SAY THIS AFTER ME
The nomenclature of Silence is silence. They keep
it in a drawer. The catalogue cards, still stuffy, reside
in their own little chill. I notice they're from another
time - before comics and graphic novels and the
alabaster ways of the sex novelteen. This will be
Rugs Mill, Natoon Township County Library.
Trying to figure place out from that is too hard
for me to do. I am 'here', like a marker on a
retard map in some cankered mall.
-
What mess people have made of messes, that too
has a nomenclature of its own : my eyes are bleary
and I peer for what to see. The riverbank seems
crowded with natives - Indians I mean - running
up from the watery banks and fleeing back into their
ghostly woods. Huge trucks roll by, driven only by
men with rifle-rack headsets and monstrous eyes.
No one gives a damn for that.
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