a poem for today, 16 July 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of ten sentences and its image]
The body is the only concrete instance for desolate individuals aspiring to enjoyment.
In such open situations, a new form of life has to be invented.
You are about to view content that may not be suitable for minors.
Nobody ever has the right to declare himself depositary of the Spirit's self-knowledge.
I say no and ask the taxi driver to turn the radio up.
They can kiss my ass on the pink.
In the center of the shop there was a void, a huge hole.
Commercial spaces can still be sacred.
The mouth is a sacred and intimate portal.
Suck.
No comments:
Post a Comment