a poem for today, 8 June 2012
[a syllable sorted sonnet of five sentences and its image]
It was simultaneously a commodity, a simulacrum, an erotic object and the embodiment of the uncanny.
I’m not in favor of, or against, anything here; all of it bores me equally.
If god wanted me on ice, he would have made me a vodka martini.
Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism.
The fact that we are all human beings is infinitely more important than all the peculiarities that distinguish humans from one another.
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