a poem for today, 15 November 2012

a poem for today, 15 November 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of eight sentences and its image]

Anyway, yesterday I got back into bed, and then I wanted to go to this party or actually I didn't want to go but I wanted to go and then when I got there I felt fine.
This was all pretty kosher, and statistically significant, and I wasn’t interested, for the same reasons you aren’t.
Come on.
Bitch, fix your tuck.
Yeah she's gorgeous and naked and giving this look, but her feet are both totally filthy and gross.
The universe is not only queerer than we imagine, but it is queerer that we can imagine.
That's from Jesus.
Sit back.

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