Sunday, July 05, 2009

every excuse for warfare

there was a poem that went nowhere

it went nowhere like this:


they were dead voices
down the bowling alley

it dropped down

the anus thrust back at the face

it was disquieting
all those absences
the roof leaning in on wires

two men danced opposite each other today
each connected separated
by blades of intent

the one pulling the other
push pull you know

as though there was something in it
I mean something in it

you things of light
saying nothing
now watch this moondragon bend at the waist
and lift


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