Wednesday, March 11, 2020

wrong medicine


Johnson on Jenyns. "Many of the books which now crowd the world, may be justly suspected to be written for the sake of some invisible order of beings, for surely they are of no use to any of the corporeal inhabitants of the world."

Stabbing a bag of garbage.

listening to Webern on a mobled day
silence not a word for peace
into soap
went rainbow dreams that sparkle then yield
to the rending air
bejewelled road to nowhere

not like the torn up one that runs to Oak Cliff
silver toy car on the catafalque
i remember red
great spider

on the thrang road to nowhere

Something else that has changed. (And no one knows why.)


(via fractal5d on tumblr)

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