FETCH

That dusty Barbie Doll
Once wall-to-wall
Has been shelved
My Dove

Let’s return now
To the self
Whistling above
The old urinal

In view of Eternity
And all its polished teeth
Considering I am not

The only one tortured alone
Abominably–thinks and thinks
The attic dog in this life of fucking

Fetch.

 
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ENIGMA

It begins as it always begins when the mind has blown itself astray, below the bruised ashtray of New York, New York headlines where– at the top of a Bushwick Fire Escape as a matter of fact– a pigeon pecks at his post, at a... Continue →