Wednesday, February 1, 2012

A Disastrous Cutup Poem

I Made This—

We know about the power of
space in time
your rubber soul.

Those stories you’ve heard,
about the myth
of the impossible,
they’re true.
Who knew?
A possible mission
behind the saint and
thirteen topless dancers
a pregnancy?

Well, pimps
we’re all puffed up now.
Eat, drink, smile, keep partying —
the cows aren’t coming home.

We want to join with you in
the ocular concern.
The giant
at the end of the world,
it was the best thing I ever

—sort of


---William James, 01/22/2012


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