Saturday, 18 April 2009

  • No Belief

    Got to get off this island; mesmerized Medusa heads fall traffic on an already busy highway; tub train, it’s the caverns can’t touch; a craze of fire too true to feel, hiccup, cat scrap, tingle triangle trumpet, black men say, “Don’t bother with Nietzsche.” All you remember is the blade, heart explodes— nauseous, the bloody body releases its excrement; a kill the killer, ah what can be said?

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